Chapter 92. Clean Up

Andre's POV

The morning sunlight poured into my room like a damn spotlight, but my eyes weren't on the rays. They were on her. Vanessa. Curled up in my bed, hair messy, lips parted slightly, cheeks flushed from last night. She was chaos and calm wrapped in one small, beautiful package.

I could count each soft breath she took, the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath my sheets. I'd memorized every freckle across her nose, the way her eyelashes fanned against her cheeks when she slept. The sheet had slipped down to reveal her bare shoulder, and I fought the urge to trace my lips on her and start over.

I didn't want to leave.

My chest ached with something I couldn't name. Something that felt dangerously close to forever.

My phone kept vibrating. Calls. Messages. One after the other. After a short deliberation, I took a quick look at Stanley's message, and I knew what it was all about. 

Another draining meeting with the boar