A book in which you, the infamous ability stealer, are the newest member of the Port Mafia and as witty as they come. Being the constant centre of attention, you have managed to catch the eye of the notorious young executive; Chuuya Nakahara, but no...
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A/N - I highly recommend that you press play on the playlist above and let the music run throughout this chapter! :)
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When Chuuya woke up this morning, in your bed, he felt like...a fucking Disney princess. Not a prince. Not a king. Not a sarcastic and witty animal acquaintance. But a princess.
He felt like Cinderella after the prince had placed the missing glass slipper on her tiny foot, and Aurora after being awoken from her one hundred year slumber by true love's kiss. He felt like Jasmine flying over the golden sand dunes on a magic carpet with Aladdin and feeling the wind kissing every inch of her skin, and Belle after breaking the Beast's curse.
He threw off the covers and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and yawning in contentment. Chuuya sat back and let the happiness that had enveloped his empty vessel of a body soak right into his bones. He wanted the feeling to still be there when he was old and had one foot in the grave. He closed his eyes, tipped his head towards the mosaic ceiling, and savoured the moment. The happiness was infectious. It started as a tingle in his fingers and toes, much like the feeling he had when he was anxious, but instead of worrisome it was rather warm; approximating to the early morning sun. He felt it pass through him like a warm ocean wave, washing away the stress of the past week to leave him feeling rather refreshed and renewed inside.
He finger-combed and detangled his hair.
He smiled blissfully to himself as he swivelled his neck to look over his shoulder at you. You were fast asleep; as silent as the depth of night, and if it were not for your chest undulating, one may think that you were dead. He allowed his eyes to caress your angelically comatose form; tilting his head to the side as he observed you like you were a piece of timeless art in a museum. He sighed dreamily; noticing how soft, dainty and cherubic your face had looked while under the elysian command of slumber; your hair spilling all over the pillow like [H/C] feathers. He heard you stir softly as you rolled to your side, now facing the opposite direction, your hand under the pillow, your body nestled and curled up like a blue racer in a partridge nest restfully beneath the soft duvet. He slowly got up and walked around the bed to your side, before leaning over you and dropping the tenderest of kisses on your temple.
You were as ridiculously beautiful as ever; that was a fact, not a matter of opinion. Mouth soft, lips slightly parted, eyelashes long and pulchritudinous. He took one look at you and fell so fast and so hard in love that it was a wonder he even managed to remain standing at this point.
You moved just the tiniest bit at the feeling of his lips brushing a feather-like kiss on your temple, but you had made no indication to wake up. Not wanting to disturb you, he walked back around the bed and headed over to the window, leaving you be.
