Nikolai's Point Of View
The night passed in a blur of whispered conversations, stolen glances, and the electric tension that always seemed to simmer between us. Morana stayed the night at my house, and though nothing happened, the air between us was thick with something unspoken, something neither of us dared to acknowledge.
I woke up early, as usual, stretching lazily in my massive bed before making my way downstairs. The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, mixing with the faint fragrance of her perfume.
Morana sat at the dining table, already dressed, her fingers lazily tracing the rim of her coffee cup.
"You're up early," I noted, taking a seat across from her.
She didn't look up, just took a slow sip of her coffee before answering. "I have places to be."
I smirked, propping my chin on my hand as I stared at her, watching and admiring the way she drank her coffee. "And here I was hoping you'd stay a little longer."
