[A/N: This chapter contains mature content.]
The balcony door creaks open, reluctantly exposing a world that feels untouched by time and yet utterly alive. As his contact lenses were off, his ocean blue eyes roamed around her room with amusement, his breath catching as he surveyed the space.
The room was an opposition of hers—it looked vivid & peaceful, while she was cold & ruthless.
The air is fragrant with an unusual mix: the sweetness of flowers wilting softly in a vase by the window and the sharp, almost rebellious hint of ink spilled onto a desk.
'Who has offended her again to cause this mess?'
Alex chuckled as he further inspected the room.
Books are scattered across every surface, some spines broken with wear, others pristine and untouched. Their titles range from old, leather-bound tomes to modern novels, and they speak in whispers of her curiosity, her longing for escapism, her hunger for stories.
