Page 151 of Eternal

I only want to be with him, nothing else… Nothing else matters.

He smiles and pokes my nose quickly. “Go sit. Dinner’s almost ready. You look tired.”

I shift my weight, swaying on the spot. “I want to watch you cook.”

He chuckles low. “You’re gonna make me burn the damn thing.”

“You’re that obsessed?”

He shakes his head with a slow, lazy grin. “If only you knew.”

“Okay… I’ll wait there then.”

I head to the couch, pop a disk into the player.

Background music for healing.

I pull off my jacket and toss it beside me. The FBI badge is still in the inside pocket. I see it, but I don’t touch it, I exhale slowly and lean back. I’m way too tired of fighting everything.

When Damir brings the food, I straighten up, he sets it on the coffee table and sits beside me. I curl into him without hesitation, pressing my cheek to his chest. Breathing him in, for a small hug, but then I freeze.

“Mansaf?” I whisper.

“Mansaf,” he murmurs.

It hits me, the first meal I ever made him. My mother’s dish, my childhood, my home.

He kisses my temple, then pulls back, holding up a spoonful. I let him feed me. I close my eyes, and for a second, I swear I could cry. It’s perfect. Salty, creamy, warm.

He made this for me .

When I open my eyes, his face is the first thing I see. Glasses still on, blue eyes steady on mine, that beautiful half-smile. He looks soft, but solid. Like safety with big arms and soft skin.

“It’s really good,” I murmured.

His fingers brush the corner of my lips, then pause. “You’ve got something here,” he says.

Before I can react, he rips his glasses off, tosses them on the table, grabs my jaw, and kisses me. Deep. Full. Like he’s been starving all day and I’m dinner and dessert.

“You taste better than the meal,” he growls into my mouth.

I gasp, laughing. “You’re so corny.”

“That’s how we court a woman,” he says with mock pride, then kisses me again, rougher, pulling me onto his lap like it’s second nature.

My hands slip under his shirt, his skin is warm and tight beneath my palms.

And for a moment… nothing else exists.

He pulls back slightly, eyes heavy-lidded, voice low. “You’re going to need to be patient for that, baby.”

I can barely breathe, I simply hum something soft, dazed. “Mmh…”

He chuckles low in his throat. “Be a good girl, alright? Wait for me here.” He sits me gently beside him, stands, and disappears down the hall.

I’m flushed, lips tingling, heart pounding. And when he comes back… he’s holding a cake.

I blink.

A round one, chocolate, clearly homemade, with ETERNAL scribbled in blue frosting across the top. A single candle shaped like a star flickers above it. He kneels in front of me, all of him soft and golden in the candlelight. “Happy birthday, partner ,” he says. “Make a wish.”

I blink again. Harder.

The little girl inside me, the one who never had parties, who never believed in wishes, she’s crying. He waited until midnight. He remembered. He made me a cake.

“You waited?” I ask.

“I was too excited,” he grins.

And then the next song starts playing.

And I'd give up forever to touch you… Cause I know that you feel me somehow…

“ You… ” I whisper, barely breathing. “Thank you.”

I close my eyes and make a wish. I wish for us to be forever, because with him… eternity isn’t scary.

When I open them, the candle’s still flickering, but Damir is already putting the cake aside.

He cups my cheek, brushing the tears I hadn’t realized had fallen.

“ Baby …” he whispers, thumb warm against my skin.

And then I’m in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, face buried in his shoulder. He rocks me gently. “Are you happy?” he asks softly in my ear.

I nod, crying. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“You can cry in my arms,” he says, kissing my neck. “I won’t tell anyone.”

I let out a wet, laughing breath and he pulls back, cradling my face in one big, warm hand, smiling fully. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“Stop it,” I smile, almost shy, ashamed of the state I’m in.

“There she is.”

And I don't want the world to see me… 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand…

He sits back on the couch and settles me in his lap again, reaching for the cake.

“Now. Let me feed you.”

I shift on his lap to sit up a little straighter, but he tightens his grip around my waist, cake in hand.

“I can feed myself, you know,” I murmur, lips already curved into a smile.

He dips a finger into the frosting and brings it up to my mouth. “Nope.”

“ Damir… ”

He leans closer, eyes dancing. “Hey. It’s your birthday. And when the birthday girl’s with me… she doesn’t lift a single finger.”

I chuckle quietly and open my mouth enough for him to slip the frosting in. Sweet. Rich. Still warm from his skin. He watches me too closely. Like he’s cataloging every shift in my face.

“Good?” he murmurs, brushing his thumb at the corner of my lip.

I nod, trying not to melt again. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Don’t care,” he grins, breaking off a piece of the cake and holding it up dramatically.

“I can literally reach the fork from here…”

“ Shhh. ” He presses the bite to my lips. “You’re interrupting a very sacred ritual.”

I laugh, letting him feed me again, but this time I grab a piece of cake with my fingers and shove it toward his mouth in retaliation. He catches my wrist mid-air, licks the frosting off my finger slowly, eyes locked with mine the whole time, then lets it go with a pop.

My heart drops into my stomach.

“Damir,” I whisper, suddenly breathless.

“What?” he says, mock-innocent. “It tasted good.”

“You are…” I shake my head, laughing, flustered.

“I am what?” He leans in, lips grazing my ear. “Too much?”

“Very,” I say, trying to sound annoyed, but my voice comes out too soft, too real.

He hums like that’s a win. “Good. You deserve too much.”

I glance at the table, at the crumbs, the little candle still half melted beside us. “You really did all this for me?”

He leans back, arms around my waist again. “Of course I did. You think I was gonna let you have a regular birthday?”

“I’ve never had one.”

His face shifts slightly, something darker, more knowing behind his smile. “Then this is your first,” he says, brushing hair behind my ear. “And your best. Starting now.”

I feel his words like a fingerprint against my ribs, warm and permanent.

“God, you’re so…” I stop myself.

But it’s there, loud in my throat.

I love you.

It stays trapped in my chest, pounding.

He watches me with that barely-there smile, like he hears it anyway, then he whispers, “Eat, birthday girl.” And kisses the side of my neck again.