Bonus Snippet: Quiet Weekend, Wicked Flirting

The house was blissfully quiet. The only sounds were the twins scribbling in the corner, Adriana softly cooing in Terry’s lap, and Beckett humming to himself while brewing one of his herbal teas.

I leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. “You know,” I began, voice low and teasing, “I think you spend far too much time hiding behind that mask of yours.”

Beckett stiffened slightly, adjusting the surgical fabric over his face. “I—It’s… practical,” he mumbled, tone defensive but soft.

“Practical, hm?” I stepped closer, sliding a hand over his shoulder. “Or are you hiding from me?”

He froze. A faint blush crept into the corners of his eyes. “I’m… not hiding from you,” he said, though I could hear the hesitation in his voice.

I smirked. “Not hiding, are you? Then why don’t you let me see that perfect, brooding face of yours for once?”

He let out a quiet, defeated sigh. Slowly, cautiously, he tugged the mask down just enough for me to steal a quick peck on his lips. His hands tensed, then relaxed, and I leaned in again, playful, teasing—letting my fingers graze the edges of his gloves.

“I could get used to this,” I murmured. “You know… seeing you like this. Vulnerable. And cute. And… sexy.”

Beckett blinked at me, faintly flustered but quietly delighted. “I—You shouldn’t—”

“Shouldn’t what?” I pressed closer, nudging him gently, letting the corners of my lips brush his. “Shouldn’t enjoy me noticing just how impossibly handsome you are?”

He coughed softly, trying not to smile. “I’m… not—”

“Not what?” I teased, tracing a finger along his jawline. “Flustered? Embarrassed? Intrigued? All of the above?”

He let out a quiet, breathless laugh. “Maybe… maybe all of it,” he admitted.

I grinned, pressing my forehead to his. “Good. Because I plan to make sure you feel all of it.”

And just like that, the rest of the world disappeared. No school politics, no Karens, no chaos of any kind. Just us. Just the quiet comfort of being exactly who we were—him, brooding, clever, utterly captivating, and me, playful, teasing, impossibly in love.

He leaned into me, fingers brushing mine. I nipped his mask lightly with a playful grin. “You know,” I whispered, “I could get used to weekends like this. All to myself, with you. Completely.”

Beckett let out a soft chuckle, lips brushing mine once more. “I… think I already have,” he murmured.

And we laughed together, quietly, the kind of laugh that belongs to people who know the world is messy, foolish, and chaotic—but that none of it could touch them here.

Here, in this little gothic sanctuary, we were perfect.

All was well. And finally, completely, undeniably, perfectly wrapped up.