LOGAN'S POV
Spending the weekend with Amira was nothing short of extraordinary—one of those perfect slices of time that make the rest of the world fade into the background. Saturday drifted by in the most beautiful blur. We spent the early part of the day teasing each other like a pair of carefree teenagers, laughing until our stomachs hurt, and playing ridiculous little games that had no real point other than hearing the sound of her laughter.
Later in the afternoon, she decided to bake for us, insisting that it was one of her favourite things to do when she wanted to unwind. I watched her move around the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, her hair tied in a loose bun, a little smudge of flour on her cheek as she danced slightly to the music playing from my speaker.
The scent of vanilla and c
