By the time the feast and dancing were over, my head was swimming from the wine. By all accounts, the evening had been a resounding success. Striker had allowed me to lean on his arm while I made my way back to my own chambers, weak kneed from the dancing and drink.
I had allowed Striker to lead me in dance after dance to avoid Lord Lyle and the other courtiers who were just looking for a moment to ask for a favor. And while I knew this scandal would be the talk of the court by morning, I found myself hardly caring. It had been worth it to not have to deal with the endless requests like I was some kind of genie they had summonsed from a lamp.
"Thank you," I said as Striker pushed open the door to my inner chamber. Inside, the covers on the bed had been turned back by some dutiful maid.
"Of course," Striker replied. I supposed this was the moment where I would let his arm go and just tell him goodnight. Whether it was the wine or the moment, I didn't want to.
"Seriously, thank you." I repeated, "Everyone always wants something from me. Being able to enjoy myself tonight was a gift."
Our eyes locked for a long moment. Time felt as though it had frozen in place. There was no one else but Striker and I trapped in this little pocket of peace. Slowly, as if time had begun to thaw, Striker leaned in. My eyes closed as his lips brushed against mine in a soft kiss.
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Heavy is the Head | A Striker x Reader Story
RomanceHeavy is the head who wears the crown. And heavy is the heart yearning for love. From the creator of Big Cats and Cowboys, Ma'at in Hell, and others. I do not own Helluva Boss or any of its amazing characters. I'm just a fan who likes to write.
