He was warmth itself in the blazing cold of winter. His touch radiated comfort.
It felt good to hold his hand, to feel his skin. Just holding him like this was pure bliss.
She sniffed deeply, her face buried in his chest, and whispered, "You showered."
"Hmm, I wanted to smell good for you, Sunset," Laz murmured. Frida smiled, pulling him closer.
"You do smell amazing," she said, snuggling into him.
He kissed her hair, her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, and finally her lips. "When I woke up, you weren't here."
She sighed. "I went to get you some things, but apparently, you don't need them."
He grabbed the bag she carried and grinned. "I do."
She smiled softly. "I missed you," she whispered.
He led her to the bed. On the bedside table, food was laid out—rice, chicken, strawberries, mangoes, fruit juice, cupcakes, chips.
"You must be starving. I bet you haven't eaten in days," he said as she sat opposite him on the bed.
His gaze made her blush.
