Aurora Dourada: Retorno By Ricardo Almeida

Her eyes glistened with a misty haze, uncertain whether it stemmed from a sense of being taken advantage of or if she was lost in the

kiss. Her consciousness gradually drifted away.

Did such love truly exist?

The next morning.

Bella jolted awake to find Justin nowhere to be seen.

Bella’s heart skipped a beat as she reached out to feel the spot next

to her.

The absence of his warmth on the bed suggested that he had been gone for some time.

Leaning against the headboard, she felt a hollow ache in her heart, unable to shake off the sense of disappointment.

After panting and moaning due to the man’s actions the previous night, Bella found her throat parched. At this point, she did not have the time or energy to care about where the man had gone. Instead, she got up and went downstairs to get water.

As she walked down the stairs, she heard sizzling noises from the kitchen,

‘Hmm? It smells good and a little burnt…’ Bella’s nerves tensed as she hurried into the kitchen.

What she saw before her was extraordinarily striking!

There stood Justin, his sturdy and robust figure facing her, wearing an apron that looked out of place on him. It was almost comical

enough to make her laugh.

Yet, it only accentuated his well-proportioned physique, with broad

shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist. His shirt sleeves were

casually rolled up, revealing his well-defined forearms. As he handled

the frying pan, his arms flexed slightly. The muscles tightened,

looking powerful, defined, and incredibly manly.

Bella’s watery eyes narrowed as she silently approached him from

behind.

Since Bella was barefooted, her steps made no sound, allowing her to approach him from behind unnoticed.

Pssst–

The frying pan emitted a puff of hot air as Justin raised his hand to wipe away the bead of sweat trickling down his cheek, sighing in frustration. “Ugh, it’s burned again.”

It was then that Bella noticed the mountain of fried eggs piled up next to the trash can.

“Haha! You fool! With that blazing heat and boiling oil, you could probably run a chicken farm into the ground.”

Justin’s heart raced as he turned to face Bella, who met his gaze with

her narrowed, cat-like eyes.

“Did I wake you up?” Justin asked nervously.

“No, my body clock did. I don’t usually sleep in.”

Bella gestured toward the trash can and mocked, “Fortunately, Steve isn’t here to witness this. He despises people who waste food more

than anything. He may even make you eat all of it.”

“Well, when I was serving in the army, we were not allowed to waste food. It’s not a big deal to pick it up and eat it,” Justin replied

nonchalantly.

He had experienced similar situations in the past.

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