★★Leon's POV★★



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When you make someone fall in love with the darkest parts of you, there's nothing left to hide. Nothing you do, no secret you keep, will ever scare them away. In fact, the deeper you let them in, the more they crave you—the more they crave all of you, even the parts that could break them.As I slowly wake up, I open my eyes, and there she is—Mariella, peacefully resting on my chest. Her lips are slightly parted, her chocolate hair cascading over my arm and down to my hand, looking so soft, so real. The sunlight filters through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over her delicate features. Her long lashes flutter as they brush against her cheeks, creating shadows on her face, and her skin feels like the smoothest silk against mine. Her lips curl up slightly on my collarbone, and for a moment, I just gaze at her, completely mesmerized.

How does someone sleep this beautifully? I almost laugh, convinced she must be some sort of angel sent to me. Her quiet, faint snores make my heart melt, and I can't help but smile at the sound. I refuse to wake her; after everything last night, she needs her rest. I'm willing to give her that, to be the one who provides her comfort, her peace, her love.

She might not have said it back yet, but I know—I know—she will, sooner or later. I'm not going to rush it. I've been ready to make her mine since the very first moment I saw her at that club. The red dress, the fire in her eyes... everything about her pulled me in. I can't stop smiling to myself, mesmerized by her beauty.

I move slowly, like a sloth, trying my hardest not to wake her. Every little movement feels like a mission as I gently pry myself out from underneath her, careful not to disturb her slumber. When I finally get free, I place her down gently on the fluffy pillow, her body shifting a little as she groans, causing me to freeze for a second, but she settles back into sleep.

I pull the blanket up over her, tucking her in, making sure she's as comfortable as possible. Then, I pause for a moment, watching her, heart swelling with feelings I never thought I'd have the chance to experience.

I'll be here for her. Always.

I step into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind me. The cool splash of water on my face does little to shake off the lingering warmth of sleep, but brushing my teeth helps me fully wake up. I haven't been getting much real rest lately, but somehow, with her in my bed, I slept like a damn baby. Which, for me, is rare.

After getting dressed in a pair of boxers and sweats, I slip out of the room, pausing just for a second to glance at her still-sleeping form. Peaceful. Soft. Stunning

With a small smirk, I make my way downstairs, intent on grabbing some coffee. But the second I step into the kitchen, I stop dead in my tracks.

What the actual hell?

Eggshells litter the counter like a murder scene. Pancake mix is powdered across the island and floor like someone detonated a flour bomb. The sink is drowning in dirty utensils, some still dripping with batter. And in the middle of this apocalyptic mess?

Antonio and Damien.

They both freeze mid-action, slowly turning to look at me in perfect sync, like I'm the intruder in the house.

I stare. They stare back. No one speaks.

I finally break the silence, my voice flat. "What the fuck are you two doing?"

Antonio, looking suspiciously guilty, straightens his posture and wipes his flour-covered hands on his sweatpants. "Uh... making breakfast?"

I raise a brow, unimpressed. "Are you making breakfast or committing war crimes?"

Damien, who has a streak of batter across his cheek and looks like he's questioning all his life choices, lets out a tired sigh. "Antonio woke me up at six in the damn morning because he had this 'genius' idea to cook a full-course meal."

Antonio scoffs. "And it's gonna be amazing."

I glance at the countertop, where a few burnt pancakes and charred toast slices sit as if they were rejected by hell itself. I cross my arms. "Yeah. Real Michelin-star material."

Antonio waves me off. "We're just warming up. Cooking is an art, Leon. You gotta fail before you succeed."

Damien groans. "We've failed at least six times."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling slowly. "So why didn't you just—I don't know—order breakfast like normal human beings?"

Antonio gasps dramatically. "And miss out on the joy of cooking?"

Damien mutters, "More like the suffering."

Despite my annoyance, I can't help but feel a little intrigued. These idiots are really trying. And while they've successfully trashed my kitchen, I can't deny that their determination is oddly admirable.

Antonio claps his hands together. "Alright! One more try. I swear I've got the pancake ratio figured out this time."

Damien slaps a hand over his face. "This is how we die."

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face before finally stepping forward. "Move over. If we're doing this, at least let me make sure neither of you burns the damn house down."

Antonio whoops in victory while Damien just gives me a deadpan stare that says, "Save me."

What the hell did I just sign up for?

After several failed attempts, a near kitchen fire, and Damien dramatically declaring he was going to "retire from life" if Antonio cracked one more egg wrong, we somehow—somehow—managed to put together a decent meal. Pancakes that aren't burnt, eggs that aren't rubber, and toast that isn't a charcoal briquette. A miracle, honestly.

Antonio is still arguing with Damien about whether or not adding cinnamon to the pancake batter was "a stroke of genius" or "an act of reckless chaos" when I hear soft footsteps coming down the stairs.

I glance over—and freeze.

Mariella stands at the kitchen entrance, barefoot and half-asleep, drowning in my button-up shirt. It's so oversized on her it hangs just at mid-thigh, making it look like a dress. Her chocolate-brown hair is a mess of wild waves, and she lazily rubs at her sleepy, half-lidded eyes like a grumpy kitten just waking up from a nap.

I'm so fucking gone.

She's adorable. Like so adorable it's illegal.

She lets out a small, tired sigh and squints at all of us like she's trying to process what the hell is going on. "What—" she yawns, then blinks slowly. "—is all this noise?"

Damien points at Antonio immediately. "Him."

Antonio gasps dramatically and clutches his chest. "Excuse you, I am providing a service."

Mariella groans, clearly still half-asleep, and runs a hand through her messy hair. "At seven in the damn morning?"

Antonio grins proudly and gestures to the food on the table. "We made breakfast! Since you cooked last night, I figured it was only fair."

Mariella raises a brow and stares at the disaster zone that is still our kitchen—flour on the counter, eggshells in the sink, and an unfortunate pancake stuck to the ceiling that no one is acknowledging.

Her tired eyes narrow. "This... looks like a hostage situation."

Damien points again. "Because it was."

I chuckle under my breath, watching her every move, still stuck on the way my shirt swallows her up. She looks so small in it, so effortlessly mine. The way she's standing there, bare-faced and sleepy, looking at us like we've ruined her morning peace, makes something warm and stupid settle in my chest.

Mariella sighs dramatically, shuffling toward me with heavy, exhausted steps. Without a word, she walks straight into me, pressing her face into my chest.

I smirk, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Tired, princess?"

She mumbles against me. "No, I'm just trying to suffocate myself in your abs."

Antonio snorts. "Relatable."

I shoot him a glare, and he just grins.

Mariella hums sleepily, barely lifting her head. "If I eat, will you all shut up?"

Antonio places a hand over his heart. "Of course. What do you take me for?"

Damien, without missing a beat: "A menace."

Mariella giggles softly, and the sound goes straight to my chest. I guide her toward a chair, pulling it out for her. She plops down lazily, resting her head on my arm for a second before picking up a fork.

Antonio leans in smugly. "So? What do you think?"

She blinks at the plate, then slowly picks up a piece of pancake with her fork, chewing thoughtfully. We all watch her in complete silence, waiting for her judgment like we're on a cooking competition show.

She swallows, licks her lips, then nods. "Not bad. Actually edible."

Antonio throws his hands up in victory. "HA! I TOLD YOU, DAMIEN."

Damien groans, dragging a hand down his face. "I can't believe I let you drag me into this."

Antonio smirks. "You're welcome."

I lean down behind Mariella, resting my chin on her shoulder as I slide my hands around her waist. "You sure you're awake enough to eat?"

She hums, leaning into me. "Mmhmm."

Antonio points his fork at us. "You two are disgusting."

I smirk. "Jealous?"

Damien smirks. "No, he's just mad he doesn't have someone to smother him with love and pancakes."

Antonio grumbles under his breath, stabbing his food aggressively.

Mariella just laughs sleepily, and I swear I've never heard a better sound in my life. She lets out a content sigh, picking at her pancakes as the conversation drifts into morning grogginess.

"Gotta admit," I say, stretching lazily behind her. "I actually slept pretty damn good for once."

Mariella hums in agreement, still too sleepy to form real words, just pressing closer to me like I'm her personal pillow.

Damien shrugs, chewing thoughtfully. "Same here. Probably the best sleep I've had in a while."

Antonio slams his fork down, looking absolutely offended. "Glad you guys got some fucking sleep. I sure as hell didn't."

Mariella and I both turn to him, blinking.

She frowns sleepily. "Why not?"

Antonio gives us a deadpan stare, rubbing a hand down his face. "Because all I kept hearing was you two going at it all night."

Mariella chokes.

Full-on chokes on her pancake. Her eyes widen as she coughs violently, grabbing her water in a panic.

Damien, completely unaware of what's happening, just sips his coffee. "Damn. Glad I was at the bar all night then."

Meanwhile, I just smirk.

Antonio crosses his arms, looking personally victimized. "Seriously, bro. I thought a damn bear broke into the house at one point."

Mariella, still recovering, gasps, her face turning ten shades of red. "Antonio! Wha—SHUT UP!"

He ignores her completely and keeps going. "Like, I had my headphones on, volume at max, and STILL—"

"OKAY, WE GET IT," Mariella shrieks, slapping a hand over his mouth, mortified.

Damien finally processes what's happening and makes a face. "Wait, wait, wait." He glances between me and Mariella. "So, you guys actually—"

Mariella groans, hiding her face in her hands. "OH MY GOD, CAN WE NOT?!"

I just lean back in my chair, completely unfazed, popping a piece of toast in my mouth. "What can I say? She's vocal."

Mariella whips her head toward me, gaping. "LEON!"

Antonio snickers. Damien just shakes his head, looking both impressed and disgusted.

"I hate you all," Mariella mutters, burying her face in my shoulder.

I chuckle, wrapping an arm around her. "Relax, princess. It's not like they didn't already know you're crazy about me."

She whines dramatically, while Antonio just shakes his head. "I'm investing in earplugs," he mutters.

Mariella peeks out from my shoulder, still red-faced. "I hate you."

I smirk, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Love you too, baby."

As we finish eating whatever was actually edible, Mariella leans back in her chair, looking far too satisfied for someone who just ate charred toast and questionable eggs. But then her gaze shifts around the room, and I watch as her expression slowly morphs from relaxed to unimpressed.

She squints, her head tilting.

"...Is that a pancake on the ceiling?"

The room goes dead silent.

I follow her gaze, and sure enough, there's a perfectly intact pancake just stuck up there like it belongs.

Damien and Antonio both freeze.

Damien clears his throat. "That... uh... wasn't me."

Antonio, the idiot, scoffs. "Okay, first of all, that was a strategic move."

Mariella turns to him slowly, baffled. "A strategic move?"

Antonio nods, folding his arms like he's proud of his ridiculousness. "Yeah. I was trying to flip it like Gordon Ramsay—"

Damien cuts him off immediately. "No, you were trying to flip it like a damn lunatic."

Mariella just pinches the bridge of her nose, like she's physically holding back from murdering them both. "You two better have this place spotless by the time I get back."

Antonio raises a brow. "And where exactly are you going?"

She doesn't answer. Instead, she pushes back her chair, stands up, and then, without hesitation, grabs my hand.

I already know where this is going.

"We'll be right back," she says smoothly, interlocking our fingers with purpose.

Antonio and Damien groan instantly.

"Are you serious?" Antonio complains, throwing his hands in the air. "Again?!"

"Can y'all at least wait until we leave the house?" Damien adds, shaking his head.

Mariella just gives them a sweet, innocent smile, but the faint pink in her cheeks gives her away. She knows exactly what she's doing.

I smirk, pulling her closer. "Yeah, yeah. Just make sure the kitchen's spotless."

Then, before either of them can argue, she's leading me upstairs, her grip firm, determined.

And honestly? I'm not about to complain.

As soon as we step into the room, I shut the door and twist the lock. Before I can turn back around, Mariella's giggle fills the space, light and sweet, right before I lift her up effortlessly, her body molding against mine like she was always meant to be there. Her oversized shirt slides up, exposing the tops of her thighs, and I take full advantage—my hands gripping her ass, squeezing, earning another giggle from her.

"You're obsessed with my ass," she teases, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I smirk, walking us toward the bed. "Can't blame me when it's this damn perfect."

She lets out a playful squeal as I drop us onto the mattress, her body landing on top of mine. She straddles me immediately, pressing her hands against my chest, pinning me down like she thinks she's in charge.

Cute. But I let her have her fun.

Especially when she leans down, her lips brushing mine before she kisses me, slow at first, then deeper, more aggressive.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, and I groan against her lips, my hands roaming up her bare thighs, gripping them tight. She pulls back just enough to whisper, "I love kissing you."

I grin. "Then don't stop, baby. I'm all yours."

Her eyes flicker with something mischievous before she suddenly reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing something. I arch a brow as she pops the cap off a tube of red lipstick and starts applying it, her eyes locked onto mine the entire time.

I watch her, both amused and intrigued. "Feeling fancy for me?"

She smacks her lips together, flashing me a sly smile. "No, I'm claiming you."

Before I can even ask what she means, she leans down and presses a kiss to my jaw, leaving a perfect red mark. Then another on my cheek. Another on my chin. I chuckle, shaking my head, but I don't stop her—hell, I don't want to stop her.

She drags her lips lower, kissing my neck, my collarbone, her soft lips marking me in the most playful, teasing way. I feel my muscles tense as she moves even lower, planting a kiss right over my heart, then my abs.

She pulls back to admire her work, a triumphant smirk on her face. "There," she says, satisfied. "Now everyone will know you're mine."

I run a hand through my hair, staring at her in pure adoration. "Damn, baby," I murmur, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her back up so she's straddling me again. My fingers trail along the lipstick stains on my chest before I grin up at her. "You really just turned me into your personal art project, huh?"

She tilts her head playfully. "Mm, and what are you gonna do about it?"

I grip her hips, rolling us over so now she's pinned beneath me, a soft gasp escaping her lips as I hover above her, smirking down. "Oh, princess," I murmur, brushing my lips along her jaw before whispering against her ear, "I'm about to return the favor."

Her breath hitches, and I swear, I've never seen anything more perfect than her lying beneath me, blushing, smiling, and completely, undeniably mine.

Her body trembles beneath me, anticipation hanging thick in the air. My lips graze her jaw, slow and deliberate, relishing the way her breath hitches, how she melts under my touch. My breath fans over her ear, teasing, sending shivers racing down her spine.

"I'm claiming every inch of you, Princess," I whisper, my voice dark and possessive. "Your body, your moans, your pleasure—it's all mine."

I don't give her a chance to respond before my lips crash against hers, deep and demanding. She meets me with equal hunger, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer, as if she can't get enough. I groan into her mouth, letting her feel just how much she affects me.

Breaking away, I trail kisses down her neck, sucking lightly, letting my tongue glide over her heated skin. I reach the first button of her shirt and take my time undoing it, my fingers barely brushing against her as I part the fabric. Her breast rises with each shaky breath, her anticipation making me smirk.

"Look at you," I murmur, running my palm over her exposed skin. "So fucking stunning."

She lets out the softest whimper as I dip my head, capturing her nipple between my lips, rolling my tongue over the sensitive bud. She arches into me, her fingers gripping my hair, her breathless moans fueling my hunger. I give the same attention to the other, sucking and teasing, until her body writhes beneath me.

I continue my path downward, my lips leaving wet kisses across her stomach, savoring every inch of her. My hands glide down to her thighs, parting them easily, and I settle between them, looking up at her with a smirk.

"Already shaking for me, Princess?" I tease, pressing a lingering kiss to the inside of her thigh.

She glares down at me, lips parted, chest heaving, and I chuckle, dragging my tongue along the sensitive skin, biting down just enough to make her gasp. I soothe the mark with a slow, open-mouthed kiss, my hands gripping her hips as she squirms beneath me.

I place her leg over my shoulder, holding her steady, and just as she starts to plead, I give her exactly what she wants.

My tongue flicks against her clit, and her entire body jolts. I groan at the taste of her, the way she's already soaking for me, and I dive in, licking and teasing her with slow, deliberate strokes.

"Fuck, Leon," she moans, her hips bucking against my mouth.

I grip her tighter, keeping her in place as I continue my assault, my tongue tracing patterns over her, alternating between gentle flicks and deep strokes. I suck her clit into my mouth, and she cries out, her thighs trembling.

I hum against her, the vibrations making her whimper as I slide a finger inside her, feeling the way she clenches around me. I curl it just right, finding the spot that makes her back arch off the bed.

"There it is," I murmur against her, smirking as she gasps.

I don't stop. I push her higher and higher, my tongue relentless, my fingers thrusting in rhythm until she's right at the edge, her body tightening, her moans growing desperate.

And then she shatters.

Her thighs clamp around my head as she comes undone, her cries filling the room, her body convulsing with pleasure. I don't let up, licking up every last drop, milking every aftershock until she's a shaking mess beneath me.

Only when she's whimpering from overstimulation do I finally pull away, licking my lips as I move up her body, capturing her mouth in a deep, lazy kiss. She tastes herself on my tongue, and I groan, pressing my hardened length against her soaked core.

Mariella steadies her breathing, her eyes soft as she looks up at me. "You look handsome like this," she murmurs, gently holding my chin as though admiring the work of art she's created on my face. I chuckle and tease, "Yeah?"

Her lips curve into a playful smile as she focuses on my still-swollen lips. "Absolutely. I highly recommend you keep it that way all day," she purrs, her tone a blend of mischief and affection.

I grin, pulling her closer until she's nestled against my chest. "So, you want me to walk around with these red lipstick marks all over my face?" I tease.

She hums her approval, then straddles me, her fingers dancing teasingly along my abs. Every touch sends a jolt of heat through me, and I silently confess that I'd gladly go another round if she keeps up the teasing.

Just as she meets my gaze with that irresistible, cute spark—ready to say something more—my phone rings insistently beside us. I groan, running a hand through my hair, and she rolls her eyes in exasperated amusement.

I glance at the screen: it's Damien.

"Ah, worst timing, brother," I mutter, a wry smile tugging at my lips, as the playful moment is interrupted by the call.

I pick up the call, and Damien's voice comes through the line, casual and relaxed. "Hey, Leon, just a heads up, we've got a meeting in an hour. Don't forget, okay?"

"Got it, Damien. What's the plan after the meeting?" I ask, forcing my voice to stay steady.

Damien starts to answer, but my focus wavers as I struggle to suppress a groan. My gaze flickers to Mariella—her lips curled into a wicked grin, amusement dancing in her eyes. Her small hand tighten as she works her hand up and down on my shaft, one finger circling and teasing my tip.

Unbothered, Damien continues, "We need to swing by Elena's and grab some documents. She's got paperwork we need to grab real quick." His tone is casual, completely unaware of the silent battle I'm fighting.

Then, to my surprise, Mariella's lips are on my skin, warm and teasing as they trail up my shaft. Her tongue flicks out, barely grazing the tip of my cock, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me. My jaw tightens, my grip on control slipping as my cock twitches in her hand.

I force myself to stay composed, to keep my voice even. "Okay, cool. I'll make sure to stop by," I manage, though the strain in my tone betrays me. Mariella hums against my skin, her grin devilish, knowing damn well the effect she's having on me

I barely manage to hold back a groan as Mariella's lips press soft, deliberate kisses down my shaft, her tongue flicking out just enough to keep me on edge. She watches me, eyes dark with mischief, knowing exactly how close I am to breaking.

Damien, oblivious on the other end of the line, keeps talking. "We'll need to go over everything before the meeting. Shouldn't take long."

Mariella hums again, the vibration shooting straight through me as she drags her tongue along my length. My fingers tighten around the phone, my free hand instinctively tangling into her hair, trying to ground myself as she pushes me closer to the edge.

I clear my throat, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Yeah... sounds good," I manage, but Mariella isn't making this easy.

She takes me deeper, slow and agonizingly controlled, her tongue swirling around my tip before pulling back just enough to drive me insane. My grip on her hair tightens, and she smirks around me, knowing she has me exactly where she wants me.

Damien is still talking, but I barely register his words anymore. My focus is completely shattered, lost in the way Mariella's mouth works me over with the kind of skill that should be illegal.

I exhale sharply, gritting my teeth. "I gotta go."

Before Damien can respond, I hang up and toss the phone aside. Mariella pulls back, licking her lips, looking far too pleased with herself.

"You were saying?" she teases, her voice dripping with amusement.

I don't let her have the upper hand for long. In a swift move, I grab her, flipping us over so she's beneath me, her breath hitching as I pin her wrists above her head.

"You think that was funny, princess?" I murmur, my lips ghosting over her ear as my hand trails down her body.

She grins, breathless. "Hilarious."

I chuckle darkly, letting my fingers slip lower, teasing her the same way she just did to me. "Let's see if you're still laughing when I'm done with you."

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THERE TOO CUTE!!

we need a ship name. Any suggestion?

Bye, lovies! (っ◔◡◔)っ

Maddie♡