The past few days had been a blur. Between filming, late-night takeout, and lazy mornings tangled in Layla's sheets, everything felt… right.
Being with her wasn't just easy; it was electric. Every laugh, every touch, every stolen kiss it all left me wanting more.
But there was one thing we hadn't done yet. A proper date.
It gnawed at me, that little detail. Layla deserved more than impromptu Netflix marathons and half-eaten pizza boxes. She deserved something thoughtful, something memorable. Something perfect.
I sat at my desk, fingers drumming against the surface as I stared at my laptop. Tabs upon tabs were open, each one showcasing different ideas: rooftop dining experiences, live music events, art galleries. My eyes skimmed through the options, but nothing felt quite right.
Think, Zaya. What would she love?
