Chapter 65 65- Never Let Him Tuck Your Hair Back
LEXI
Blake stays late. Long enough that the room feels settled around us, like it has quietly accepted this as the new normal. When the movie finally ends and the credits roll, neither of us moves right away. I’m still curled comfortably against him, head resting where I fit just right, his arm loose around me like it belongs there. Eventually, though, he shifts. Carefully. Reluctantly. He slides me off his lap with deliberate slowness, hands steady at my waist as if he’s memorising the feel of me even while he lets me go. He makes sure I’m settled properly against the pillows before he straightens, like he can’t quite bring himself to just stand up and walk away.
“I don’t know how I’m still tired…” I grumble, voice soft and sleepy. He laughs quietly, that low sound that feels like it’s just for me, and leans back down. His hand braces beside me on the bed, his other hand cupping my jaw as he kisses me. Sweet, lingering and unhurried. Not desperate. Not uncertain. Just… Content.
“You’re not used to using magic yet. Remember? It will get better.” He says gently when he pulls back. His thumb brushes my cheek, slow and affectionate.
“And you were tense earlier. That makes a person tired.” He adds. The words are kind. Reassuring. But his expression? Smug. Not cruel smug. Not mocking.
Just deeply, profoundly satisfied. The kind of smug that comes from knowing things are going exactly the way he wanted them to. I narrow my eyes at him,
even as warmth curls through my chest. I suspect it has less to do with the conversation and more to do with the fact that I spent the entire movie curled
up on his lap, tucked against him like it was the most natural place in the world. I would be mad. But honestly? I feel a little smug too. Or something like it
at least. He lingers another moment, like he’s weighing something, how easy it would be to stay, how tempting it is to ignore the sensible choice. Then, with
visible effort, he straightens fully and steps back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says, voice low, certain. Like there’s no question about it. Blake goes to bed. The door closes softly behind him, and I hear my lock clicking. I drowsily thank the Academy. My room feels quieter. But it’s not bad. I feel warm in the aftermath. I lie there for a while, staring at the ceiling, replaying the night in my head. The conversation. The way he answered so easily when I finally asked. The way he looked at me afterward, like the uncertainty had never been needed. That it was just something he’d been patiently waiting for me to work through. My phone sits within reach. The thought of SCRI nudges at me again, familiar and insistent. Just a quick look. Just to see if anyone posted anything else. If there’s commentary. If there’s judgement. If there’s proof that other people are still trying to define me from the outside. My thumb even hovers over the screen. But I don’t pick it up. Because
tonight doesn’t feel fragile. It doesn’t feel like something that needs defending or explaining or checking against other people’s opinions. Whatever people are saying on that app, kind or cruel, it doesn’t get to touch this. Not tonight. Blake chose me. Clearly. Confidently. And I chose him right back. That’s enough. I set my phone aside, roll onto my side, and let myself sink into the mattress. The tiredness finally claims me, heavy and pleasant, and as sleep
pulls me under, warm and tired and quietly, deeply content.
The next morning I wake up refreshed and ready for the day ahead. It’s the good kind of rested, the kind where my body feels light instead of heavy, where the day ahead feels possible instead of daunting. I shower, letting the warm water finish waking me up, get dissed and then head off to have breakfast
with Blake. My door swings open for me before I even reach for it.
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“Thanks.” I murmur automatically, even though I’m smiling. The Academy hums faintly in response, lights shifting just a touch brighter as I pass. It’s almost… Cheerful this morning. Or maybe that’s just me. I feel like Blake’s actions have shifted again. Not dramatically. Just… Subtly. He holds me a little closer to his side than before, his arm firm and familiar at my waist. It’s not possessive or showy, just deliberate. Like he’s decided this is where I belong and sees no reason to pretend otherwise. When we walk, he matches my pace exactly, adjusting without comment, shortening his stride without breaking rhythm. It doesn’t feel calculated. It feels instinctive. When we reach the cafeteria, he carries my plate and pulls my seat out for me like usual. That part isn’t new, but somehow it feels different today. Maybe because he seems so happy to be doing it? I smile at that, warmth settling in my chest at the familiarity of it, at how naturally we fall into these small routines together. But once I sit down, instead of immediately taking his own seat, he pauses. He leans down toward me, close enough that I can feel the warmth of him, and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head. There’s no rush to it. No quick glance around to see who’s watching. Just a gentle, lingering touch, like he’s grounding himself before stepping away. It’s affectionate in a way that feels quietly claimed. Not loud, but almost a little performative. Is Blake showing off? My cheeks burn instantly, heat flooding my face as I become acutely aware of where we are, of the room around us, of the fact that this isn’t something he’s hiding anymore. And somehow, instead of making me want to pull away, it makes me feel steadier. Like this, us, is something he’s chosen, and isn’t second–guessing. I sit there for a second longer than necessary, heart beating just a little faster, before he finally straightens and takes his seat like nothing extraordinary just happened. Even though it absolutely did. I can practically feel the prying eyes on us, the subtle pause in the room, the attention snapping our way. Blake doesn’t even seem to register it. He pays them no mind at all as he straightens and takes his own seat across from me like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. Unlike dinner last night, he’s in no rush this morning.
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Chapter 65 65- Never Let Him Tuck Your Hair Back
There’s no urgency, no scanning the room, no tension coiled under the surface. We chat easily about classes, about the games we played, about which escape room we might try next. We eat at a leisurely pace, the conversation drifting comfortably from topic to topic. It feels… Easy. After breakfast, he walks me to my potions class like he always does. When we reach the door, he stops and turns toward me instead of immediately leaving. He gently strokes a hand down my hair, fingers brushing through it before he tucks a strand behind my ear. Then his attention drops to my necklace, and he reaches out to straighten the pink diamond so it sits properly against my collarbone. The gesture is careful. Familiar. Intimate in a way that makes my chest tighten.
“See you soon.” He says gently. I smile up at him, warmth blooming in my chest. How are people so scared of this guy? He’s ridiculously sweet to me. Okay, I know why. Because he isn’t nearly as nice and sweet to everyone else. But watching him now, I can’t help thinking that maybe he would be, if they treated him halfway decently. If they didn’t approach him already braced for the worst. The thought lingers just long enough to push me into action. I hug him impulsively, arms wrapping around his middle before I can second–guess myself. He hugs me back immediately, solid and reassuring, but when he pulls away there’s a curious expression on his face, like he’s trying to work out what prompted it. I just shrug, suddenly shy. Then I take a deep breath, turn, and head into class, feeling steadier than I have in days.
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RVisitor
super cute. I do hope there’s a little more progression now that they’ve established their relationship.
7 days ago
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
