Atasha's POV
"Let's stay somewhere," Antonio offered suddenly, voice low. "One night. No rush. No distractions."
Luna was already on her phone booking us rooms at a boutique hotel nearby—one of those cozy places with fairy lights and a rooftop that overlooked the coast.
The hotel was perfect.
Our rooms were beside each other, the walls thin enough to hear Luna giggling through hers. Antonio and I sat out on the rooftop, wrapped in silence and sea breeze, sipping from steaming mugs of hot cocoa the hotel had graciously served.
"I don't remember the last time I felt this… light," I whispered, pulling my legs to my chest on the cushioned bench.
Antonio turned toward me, the amber light flickering across his face. "Then let's not forget it."
Later that night, Luna crashed into her bed without a second word. But I stayed up. Antonio had sent me a soft "Good night" text, and when I peeked out my door, I saw his open too. He was there in the hallway, leaning against the wall, waiting.
We didn't talk. We just… walked, side by side, until we were beneath the stars again.
A trip that was meant to be a quick escape had somehow become something else—something permanent in my memory.
And as I closed my eyes that night, I felt it. Not just happiness.
Belonging.
The next day,
The rooftop smelled of fresh coffee and soft morning air. I leaned into Antonio's side, letting his arm slide around my waist as we both sipped from our cups, watching the city stretch awake beneath us. He looked down at me, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch so familiar now it felt like part of me. I rested my head on his shoulder, breathing in the faint trace of his cologne and warmth.
No words were needed. Just this—his presence, our coffee, the early hush before the city bloomed in noise again. I traced little circles on his arm with my fingers. He smiled at them.
Then came Luna—her entrance perfectly timed as always. She stepped onto the rooftop in one of oversized hoodies, rubbing her eyes. "I hope you two saved me some of that magic brew," she yawned, grinning.
Within the hour, the three of us were buzzing with energy, standing in front of a bed covered in dresses, jackets, boots, accessories—fashion war zone. I slid into a sleek satin burgundy dress, Antonio adjusting my strap like he'd done it a hundred times, his lips brushing my shoulder. Luna threw on her statement blazer over a crop top and flared trousers. Antonio, in all his charm, wore a dark shirt with rolled-up sleeves and that silver chain I adored on him.
We looked at ourselves in the mirror. A trio of sparkle, style, and a little chaos. And as we walked out the door, I knew today would be one for the books.