Chapter 154 CHAPTER 154:NO MORE SEPERATE ROOMS
~Wayne and Elara's Pov~
The scent of coffee woke Elara before the sunlight did.
She shifted under the blanket, stretching slightly, only to realize the other side of the bed was empty.
Her eyes slowly opened.
Wayne was gone.
For a brief second, panic flickered in her chest until she heard something clatter downstairs followed by a muttered, “Ow okay that was hot.”
She blinked.
Then she smiled.
He was cooking.
Elara sat up carefully, her body still slightly sore from the night before. A faint blush crept up her cheeks as memories flashed through her mind. She quickly shook her head.
Stop it.
She slipped out of bed and wrapped herself in a soft cream-colored robe. Her hair was slightly messy, falling over her shoulders in loose waves. She looked at herself in the mirror briefly.
Her cheeks were still naturally flushed.
“You need to behave,” she whispered to her reflection.
Taking a steadying breath, she walked downstairs.
The sight that greeted her made her stop midway.
Wayne stood in the kitchen wearing grey sweatpants and absolutely nothing else. His back was to her, muscles shifting as he flipped something in a pan. His tattoo stretched beautifully across his chest and shoulder as he moved.
She froze.
Oh no.
Why was he built like that in broad daylight?
As if sensing her presence, he turned slightly.
“Good morning,” he said casually.
She immediately looked at the floor.
“Why are you not wearing a shirt?” she blurted out.
He looked down at himself. “This is my house.”
She folded her arms. “You could at least pretend to be decent.”
He laughed. “After last night, this is what you’re shy about?”
Her face went crimson.
“Wayne!”
He grinned mischievously and walked toward her slowly. Each step made her heart beat faster.
“What?” he teased softly. “You weren’t shy when—”
She quickly covered his mouth with her hand. “Stop talking.”
He kissed her palm lightly just to make her jump.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered, trying not to smile.
He gently pulled her hand away and leaned down to kiss her forehead.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured.
She swallowed. “I just woke up.”
“Exactly.”
Her heart betrayed her by fluttering wildly.
He turned back toward the kitchen. “Sit down. Breakfast is almost ready.”
Elara obeyed, sitting at the small dining table while watching him move around confidently. There was something so intimate about this him cooking for her, sunlight pouring in, the quiet comfort of morning.
It felt… real.
“What are you making?” she asked.
“Pancakes. Eggs. Coffee. And I tried to cut fruits into heart shapes but that part failed.”
She laughed softly. “You tried?”
“I am a romantic husband.”
“Since when?”
He placed a plate in front of her dramatically. “Since I realized my wife deserves to be spoiled.”
Her cheeks warmed again at the word wife.
She looked down at the plate.
Perfect golden pancakes stacked neatly, scrambled eggs to the side, strawberries (poorly cut but adorable), and syrup already drizzled carefully.
“You did all this?” she asked softly.
He shrugged. “I wanted your first morning as my official ‘no more separate rooms’ wife to be special.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “No more separate rooms?”
He leaned on the table, looking at her with raised brows. “You plan on running back to yours?”
She nearly choked on air. “I I didn’t say that.”
“Good.”
He walked around and pulled the chair beside her instead of sitting across from her.
“Why are you sitting here?” she asked nervously.
“So I can feed you.”
Her eyes widened. “Wayne!”
He scooped a small piece of pancake with syrup and held it up to her lips.
“Open.”
“I can feed myself.”
“I know. But I want to.”
Her heart melted against her will.
She hesitated… then slowly opened her mouth.
He fed her gently, watching her reaction like it was the most important thing in the world.
“Well?” he asked.
She chewed thoughtfully. “It’s good.”
“That’s it? Good?”
She smiled teasingly. “Average.”
His mouth dropped open. “Average?!”
She burst into laughter, quickly dodging as he tried to lightly tap her shoulder.
“You’re ungrateful!” he said dramatically.
She laughed harder. “I’m joking! It’s really good!”
He narrowed his eyes playfully. “You’re bold this morning.”
“I learned from you.”
“Oh, you learned from me?” His tone shifted into mock seriousness.
She nodded, sipping her coffee.
Suddenly, he leaned closer.
“Then show me how much you learned.”
She nearly inhaled her coffee.
“You’re insane,” she coughed.
He laughed, clearly enjoying her flustered state.
“You should see your face,” he said. “It’s red.”
She covered her cheeks instinctively. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re planning something.”
He leaned back slightly, smirking. “Maybe I am.”
Her stomach flipped.
They continued eating, but the teasing didn’t stop.
At one point, syrup accidentally dripped onto her finger. She reached for a napkin, but Wayne grabbed her wrist gently.
“Wait.”
She blinked. “What?”
Without breaking eye contact, he leaned down and licked the syrup off her finger.
Her entire brain short-circuited.
“Wayne!”
He pulled back innocently. “What? I didn’t want it to waste.”
She stared at him in disbelief.
“You are not normal.”
“And you love me.”
She tried to fight her smile.
“…Unfortunately.”
He clutched his chest dramatically. “That hurts.”
“You’ll survive.”
They finished breakfast in comfortable laughter, the tension between them no longer awkward — just playful and warm.
After clearing the table together, Wayne suddenly grabbed her waist from behind as she rinsed a plate.
She gasped. “Wayne!”
He rested his chin on her shoulder. “You look cute doing domestic things.”
She elbowed him lightly. “Let me wash the plate.”
“I am helping.”
“This is not helping.”
“It is emotional support.”
She rolled her eyes.
His fingers traced small circles on her waist through the robe fabric, not pushing boundaries just reminding her he was there.
“You’re very quiet suddenly,” he noticed.
She hesitated.
“I’m just… happy,” she admitted softly.
He loosened his hold and turned her gently to face him.
“Talk to me.”
She looked up at him, vulnerability flickering in her eyes.
“I was scared,” she said quietly. “That things would feel different. Awkward. But it doesn’t.”
He cupped her face tenderly.
“It won’t,” he said. “Last night didn’t change us. It just… brought us closer.”
Her eyes softened.
“I like this version of us,” she whispered.
He smiled gently. “Me too.”
Then, just as the moment became deeply emotional
He suddenly lifted her off the ground.
She shrieked. “Wayne!”
He laughed. “You’re too serious. Where did my shy little wife go?”
“She disappeared when you started acting crazy!”
He carried her to the couch and dropped her gently onto it before falling beside her.
“You know,” he said casually, “you snore.”
She gasped dramatically. “I do not!”
“You do.”
“You’re lying.”
“It was cute though.”
She grabbed a throw pillow and hit him with it.
He caught it mid-air and pulled her closer instead.
They ended up tangled on the couch, laughing breathlessly.
He brushed her hair away from her face.
“You know what I love the most?” he said softly.
“What?”
“That you’re still you. Shy. Sweet. Dramatic. Even after everything.”
Her lips curved into a small smile.
“And you’re still annoying.”
He grinned. “But I’m your annoying husband.”
She sighed dramatically but rested her head against his chest anyway.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “You are.”
They stayed like that, sunlight filling the room, laughter slowly fading into comfortable silence.
The morning didn’t feel heavy.
It didn’t feel awkward.
It felt like the beginning of something steady.
Something warm.
And as Wayne pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, Elara realized something important
Last night had been intense.
But this morning?
This morning felt like love.