Now, I wake up slowly, the morning sun filtering through the curtains.
I’m still wrapped in Nico’s arms. He’s still sitting up against the headboard, his back straight, arms locked around me like he never moved all night.
I blink, realizing how uncomfortable he must be. His neck is probably killing him. How long has he been holding me like this?
Asleep, he looks different. Softer somehow. The hard lines that usually carve his features have eased.
Dark stubble shadows his jaw, his dark hair is a mess, falling across his forehead in unruly strands.
As I try to shift away carefully, his eyes open. He looks at me, and a soft, tired smile curves his lips.
“Hey,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I whisper back.
He brushes a few strands of hair from my face, his touch gentle. “Did you sleep okay?”
I nod. “Yeah…”
My eyes move over him. “You’ve been like this since my nightmare? Sitting up? You could’ve woken me. We could have laid down properly.”
He sits up straighter, cracking his neck with a small wince. “No. You finally fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”
The guilt deepens. “I’m so sorry. You must be exhausted and in pain because of me?—”
He shushes me softly, cupping my face with one hand. “Hey. Stop. If sitting like that all night is what you needed to get even an hour of real sleep, then I don’t mind. I’d do it every night if it helps you feel safe.”
His words hit something deep inside me. My eyes sting with sudden tears. I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tightly, burying my face in his shoulder.
“Thank you,” I whisper, voice breaking. “I don’t know if I deserve someone like you…”
He holds me close. “I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. You're too pure for me.”
“No, I'm not,” I murmur against his skin and he chuckles.
I eventually pull back, sitting up and folding my legs underneath me. He’s watching me quietly, that careful look in his eyes.
We haven’t really talked since before the Daniel incident. I told him I needed time to think about the engagement, about everything. And he’s respected that completely.
I look down at my bare finger for a moment, then back up at him.
“Can I… have the ring back?” I ask softly.
The way his face morphs is instant and breathtaking. A beautiful, relieved smile breaks across his lips, lighting up his entire expression.
Before I can even finish the sentence, he reaches over to the bedside drawer with lightning speed, pulls out a velvet box, and opens it.
In one smooth motion, he takes my hand and slides the ring back onto my finger, where it belongs. His thumb brushes over it gently, almost reverently.
“Right where it belongs,” he murmurs, voice low and thick with emotion.
His gaze lifts to mine, hopeful and intense. “So… that means you’re marrying me?”
I nod, a small, teary smile breaking through. “Yes. I’m marrying you.”
The joy that floods his face is something I’ll never forget.
“Best news ever.”
