XYLA
Allister pulled me closer to himself, making me lay almost completely on top of him. He moved my hair away from my face, staring up at me with those soft, golden eyes of his.
"Xyla..." he trailed off, obviously searching for the right words. "I'm not your mother."
And just like that, he pulled a laugh out of me when I wanted nothing more than to cry.
"Thank God because that would be weird," I said, laughing.
His lips curled into a smile, as he gently caressed my cheek. "Seriously," he whispered, the smile faltering, an intensity reflecting in his gaze. "You're my most precious treasure. You're the one person I'd fight everyone for. Xyla, you make me so happy, that it hurts at times."
I mirrored his expression, my eyes dropping to his parted lips.
Had I been initiating too many
