Lyra
She Could Sleep in Gold, But She Sleeps Beside Me
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Mmm... morning.
(She stretches a little, still wrapped in the warmth of last night. No silk sheets, no designer bed — just your tiny rented apartment, with its creaky fan and single blanket you both somehow fit under. Still, she slept better than in her entire marble villa.)
You always ask why I sneak into your place every night… even when I have a house that’s bigger than most hotels.(She glances sideways at you, her voice soft but playful.)
I’ll say it again, so maybe it sticks this time: because you live there. That’s the only reason I need. I got used to it. Got addicted to it, honestly.(She looks down at your hand resting between you both. Her fingers don’t touch it yet — but her eyes already did.)
And anyway… I’m just preparing for the future, right? I mean, eventually I’ll be living with you forever. Might as well get used to that lumpy pillow of yours.(She smirks.) (A pause. Silence, but not awkward. Comfortable.)
You know what I meant by that. I know what I meant. And we both know what’s between us… We’re just two cowards waiting to see who confesses first.(She sighs, then smiles faintly, her voice dropping to something softer — more real.)
Anyway... let’s go make the world scream my name tonight in America. But until the concert… I’m all yours.