<h4>Chapter 653: Her Condition</h4>


    <strong>Evaline:</strong>


    The moment Oscar lowered me onto the bed, a soft sigh slipped past my lips. Not from exhaustion. Not entirely. But from the overwhelming warmth still wrapped around me... inside me.


    Around us.


    He pulled the nket over my body with a kind of care that made my chest tighten. Like I was something fragile. Precious.


    His.


    The thought alone sent a quiet shiver down my spine.


    He was about to climb in beside me when I reached out, catching his wrist.


    "Wait."


    His brows lifted slightly as his gaze dropped to me with quiet curiosity.


    I pointed toward his robe, and watched as a slow knowing smirk spread across his lips instantly.


    Of course he understood.


    Without a word, he reached up and slipped the robe off his shoulders, letting it fall carelessly aside. My eyes lingered on his bare chest, still faintly damp from the shower. His muscles appeared rxed yet undeniably strong beneath my gaze.


    Heat curled low in my stomach again.


    Stars...


    I was never going to get enough of him.


    He climbed into bed then, and before he could even settle, I moved. Or more like got drawn to him like I couldn’t stay away even for a second.


    I shifted over him, straddling him lightly while hey on his back. I draped one of my legs over his, and wrapped my arm around his waist as if I needed to anchor myself there.


    To him.


    And finally, I let my cheek rest against his shoulder... but not before pressing a soft kiss right over his heart.


    I felt it skip.


    Or maybe that was mine.


    A quiet chuckle rumbled beneath me as his hand immediately came up to rest on my back. I felt his fingers spreading as if he wanted to feel every inch of me against him.


    "You are going to be the death of me," he murmured.


    I smiled against his skin.


    "Toote for that."


    His grip tightened slightly. It was possessive and equally protective.


    The bond between us pulsed softly, like a living thing - warm, steady, ever-present. I could feel him.


    Not just physically, but deeper - emotionally, instinctively. The mind link had also opened between us.


    Every flicker of his thoughts, every wave of his feelings... it brushed against me like a whisper.


    And right now...


    All I felt from him was me.


    I let my fingers drift absentmindedly over his chest until they found the lines of his tattoo. Slowly, I traced the pattern, following each curve and edge like I was trying to memorize it through touch alone.


    "It suits you," I murmured softly.


    "Hm?"


    "Your tattoo."


    He nced down briefly before looking back at me, his hand nowzily stroking my back.


    "You think so?"


    "I know so."


    Afortable silence settled between us after that. The kind that didn’t need to be filled. The kind that feltplete just by existing.


    After a while, I shifted slightly, tilting my head to nce at the wall clock.


    4:03 AM.


    A soft breath escaped me.


    "We didn’t sleep at all..."


    Oscar huffed out a quietugh. "And whose fault is that?"


    I lifted my head just enough to look at him, narrowing my eyes yfully. "Yours."


    "Mine?" he echoed, clearly amused. "I’m pretty sure you weren’tining."


    Heat rushed to my face instantly, and I buried it back against his shoulder.


    "I hate you."


    Hisughter came softer this time, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of my head gently.


    "No, you don’t."


    No.


    I didn’t.


    Not even close.


    If anything...


    It was the exact opposite.


    My fingers resumed their slow tracing over his tattoo, more thoughtful now. And then, without really thinking it through-


    "I’ll get one."


    He stilled beneath me.


    "...What?"


    I shifted slightly, resting my chin on his chest so I could look at him properly and exined, "The tattoo you mentioned."


    His brows furrowed in confusion, surprise flickering across his face. "You said you have never thought about it."


    "I hadn’t." I confirmed.


    "And now?" He asked, searching my eyes to find exactly what had changed my mind.


    I smiled softly as I spoke, "Now I have."


    Something in his expression changed. It softened, then deepened. "What changed?" he asked quietly.


    I held his gaze, my fingers still resting over his tattoo.


    "You."


    It was that simple.


    "I’ll get it around my graduation," I added softly. "So there’s still time."


    He was still watching me like he was trying to process everything at once.


    Then I tilted my head slightly and added, "But..."


    His eyes sharpened as he repeated, "But?"


    I smiled before revealing my condition. "You’ll have to do it."


    That definitely caught him off guard.


    "Me?"


    I nodded.


    "I want you to learn."


    His lips parted slightly, clearly surprised.


    "And then..." I lifted his hand and ced it gently against my corbone. "You’ll ink me yourself."


    For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at me. Then... a slow, wide smile spread across his face. It was bright, genuine... almost boyish.


    "You are serious."


    "Very."


    His hand tightened slightly where it rested on me, his thumb brushing slowly against my skin.


    "Then I’ll learn," he said without hesitation. There wasn’t even a second of doubt in his voice. "I’ll make it perfect."


    My heart fluttered.


    "I know you will."


    He exhaled softly, shaking his head a little like he still couldn’t believe this conversation was happening.


    "I didn’t expect this."


    "I didn’t either," I admitted. "But I like it."


    "I love it," he corrected quietly.


    My chest warmed at that. I leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. It wasn’t rushed or demanding, just... full of everything I felt, everything I couldn’t put into words.


    When I pulled back, I rested my head over his chest again, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.


    It was calming.


    Grounding.


    Safe.


    His arms wrapped around me tighter this time, one hand sliding up into my hair where his fingers gentlybed through the strands.


    His hold on me was possessive, but gentle.


    Mine.


    His voice echoed softly in my mind. The word felt not like ownership, but as belonging. As connection. As love.


    He rested his chin lightly against the top of my head as his fingers continued their slow, soothing movements.


    "Sleep," he murmured.


    I hummed softly in response, my body finally beginning to rx. The exhaustion I hadn’t noticed earlier slowly started catching up to me.


    My eyelids grew heavy.


    My breathing slowed.


    And thest thing I felt before sleep finally imed me... was his hold tightening just slightly around me.


    Like even in sleep...


    He wasn’t going to let me go.


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