Roman stood there, his arms already wrapped around Bianca's limp form, cradling her body in a princess carry. Her head was nestled against his chest, her face tilted upwards, her features soft and vulnerable in sleep. He gazed down at her, his eyes drinking in the sight of her peaceful expression, his mind still reeling from the events that had led to this moment.
As he held her, he felt her soft skin against his arms, her thighs exposed by the skirt she wore. He couldn't help but notice the gentle rise and fall of her chest, her breathing slow and steady. He felt a sense of responsibility, knowing he had been the one to render her unconscious.
