I stared at the "Hey Milan boy…" message sitting proudly in the chat bar. It looked just. too innocent for the storm sitting in my mind.
My thumb hovered around the keypad. Then I clicked send.
The message flew off like a bird too eager to escape.
Almost instantly. PING
Mason: Good morning, sweetheart.
How was your night?
Mason: Can we call?
Voice or video, I don't care. I just want to hear you breathe.
My stomach flipped so fast it felt illegal. This boy, Lord.
I swallowed, typed before I could lose courage.
Me: Video call it is, but only for five minutes. I look like a runaway lamb.
Mason: Perfect, I love lamb.
I slapped a hand over my face. I hated how much that made me smile like a fool.
The call came through, and I accepted before my brain could say, "Bad idea, babe."
His face appeared — messy curls everywhere, a soft grin, eyes warm in that stupid heart-melting way.
"Hey," he breathed, leaning closer. My Milan queen.
I rolled my eyes, but the smile betrayed me. "Why the hell are you like this?"
Genetics, he shrugged. And the fact that I'm in love with your face.
My brain rebooted. I covered my mouth, eyes widening. Don't say things like that so early in the morning.
It's 9 a.m, Lyra. It's still early Mason, besides I just woke up.
He chuckled, that deep, warm sound that sticks right in my ears.
"So… am I forgiven?" he asked, raising a brow.
I tilted the camera upward, hiding my blush. Hmm, I'll think about it.
Think quick, he teased. I'm suffering over here. I haven't eaten, and I haven't slept.
You're literally chewing something right now.
He froze, stared at me, then slowly lowered the cookie in his hand like he'd been caught in 4K.
Ignore that.
I burst out laughing.
After that, everything just flowed, easy, sweet, stupid, perfect.
He made fun of my hair, and I made fun of his tragic eyebrows. He complained about jet lag and I complained that he looked too good to be talking nonsense.
He showed me a view from his hotel window, looked like it was some Oscar-winning masterpiece. And I pretended to be interested.
Then, he leaned closer to the screen, voice dropping. Tell me something cute, he said suddenly.
No, I answered immediately.
"Why?"
Because you'll tease me.
I won't, he lied with the confidence of a man who absolutely would.
I sighed dramatically. Fine, I kind of miss you.
He blinked, before saying. What was that?
You heard me.
No, say it again, please. And slowly, let it marinate.
I laughed hard I nearly dropped my phone.
He smiled too. Then, he came closer to the camera again. His voice became deeper than I was NOT prepared for.
You missed me? he repeated quietly.
The question hit harder than it should've.
I— I, I stuttered, my throat tightening. I think so.
"You think so?" he scoffed. Lyra, you're blushing so hard your nose is pink.
No it's not!
Proof, he zoomed in dramatically on my face. And pointed to my nose, you see it's PINK. Delete yourself, he added.
No, I stressed. I covered my face but I was laughing again, overwhelmed, warm, stupid, alive. He always did this, turn the room brighter without even trying.
Then he cleared his throat, suddenly shy. Mmh… okay, real question now.
I froze, the way he said it sounded serious. It gave this, I'm-serious-jokes-apart tone.
"Hmm?" I managed to say.
When I get back, can I take you on a date? Like a real on. The kind where you wear something cute. I pick you up, and I pretend not to stare too much.
His voice softened, almost vulnerable. Like a proper date, Lyra.
I opened my mouth, though nothing came out.
My heart was still busy doing gymnastics when he kept going, voice dropping lower and getting deeper. He had this to die for kind of tone, when he was serious.
And after dinner, if you want, maybe you could even spend the night at my place. He bit his lip. Not like too serious. Just you next to me, talking, laughing, and sleeping. I would like that.
I blinked, my soul blinked, literally everything blinked.
And, he added, smirking slowly, I really, really miss the taste of your lips.
My breath paused.
And your reactions, he whispered. The way you melt when I touch you. The way your lashes lower when I kiss you.
Lyra, you don't even want to know what I plan to do the next time I get to kiss you properly.
My entire body heated.
He leaned closer, eyes dark with mischief. Hands on your waist, or maybe your boobs. His smile turned wicked. Or that cute ass you keep pretending you don't know you have.
"Mason," I whispered, scandalized and blushing so hard my ears were sweating.
That's the combo, babe, he said, laughing softly. Lips on lips and hands wherever you want them.
My brain was melting, like fully melting
when—
The door creaked violently. Then swung open so loud it nearly stopped my heart.
Lyra, Mom called.
I froze, then panicked instantly, I'll call you back please. I cut the call so fast I was this close to blocking him. I shoved my phone under a pillow like it committed a crime.
My soul left my body. Heart racing, palm sweaty, I looked up just as Mom stepped in.
Her face wasn't angry. Just very serious and a little mixture of worried.
"Lyra," she said quietly, closing the door behind her. Sit please, we need to talk. It's important.
My heart dropped. Mom, can we talk later.
No, now, she said. Not harshly, just firm. Let's talk properly.
And just like that. Everything warm, sweet, chaotic and glowing crashed straight into the floor.