I cannot sleep.

  I can't believe I'm acting like this. The memory of Cra looking at Maya's phone did more to me than I could ever admit out loud. And I was never a jealous man. I had everything I wanted. Had.

  The first time I saw Cra, it was something close to what was usually described in a book. Not a movie. A book. Very descriptive.

  I sat behind the tinted gss of my car, waiting for Is to come with the reports. Needing a quick, fresh breath of air, I slid the window down. That's when my eyes fell on Cra Wilson.

  Her Medium, Wavy hair fluttered on her face making her look something like a painting people paid to see. Her Aura was welcoming and kind as she smiled effortlessly at the children I assumed she taught. The sun kissing her soft yet striking features. Her dimples... I felt something unknown flutter in my chest. She hadn't looked at me. Yet I couldn't help what I felt.

  I tried to distract myself by looking away, telling myself that Distractions had no pce in my life. But I always looked back at her, almost as if I couldn't forgive myself for resisting the pull I felt in that moment.

  "Sir?" Is's voice bought me back to the car. I look at her seated on the front passenger seat that I didn't realise she had sat on. I couldn't bme myself, Not When someone had caught my attention.

  I clear my throat slightly as I roll my windows back up "Let's go." My voice came out more gruff than I intended.

  I stare at the ceiling of my hotel room as my mind wandered back to that moment in loops. This was a new normal ever since I had seen Cra.

  Six months. One hundred and eighty two days. Four thousand, three hundred and sixty-eight hours. That's how long she has been tormenting my body, mind and soul. She owns me—and I wouldn't want to be called anything that didn't begin and end with her.

  I have seen death standing right infront of me, Stood in boardrooms surrounded by enemies who ought to backstab me. Yet building up courage to approach Cra was the hardest thing I've ever done.

  I've had a fair share of women throwing themselves at me. For my status, My name. None of them with their ghost touches and revealing cleavages made me stop to spare a gnce at them. Yet Cra did it so effortlessly.

  Nothing has ever made me nervous enough but Cra.

  Cra.

  Cra.

  Cra.

  Her name echoed through my mind like a silent prayer I hadn't realized I was devoted to—until Is walked in, details in hand, about the girl I saw that day.

  It took me Six months. Six months to memorize all the lines on her face. Six months to knowing how many strokes of my paint brush it took to paint her on my canvas. Six months to learn everything about her on record and off. Six months to know her better than she knew herself. Six months of plotting on how to get close to her. Six months of yearning to be close to her.

  And Now she's finally here. In the room beside mine. So close yet so far away from reach.

  She's nothing like me. And yet... she feels like a mirror. We're cut from the same soul but shaped by different storms. I'm the darkness—chaotic, unforgiving, a storm always one breath away from drowning everything in my path. But she—she's the light. Soft where I'm sharp, calm where I burn. Like she was made to bance the parts of me I never thought could be steadied.

  She doesn't know it, but she owns every breath I take. Every step I make, every choice, every gnce—it all pulls me closer to her. She's the gravity I never asked for, the end I never saw coming. And I don't mind the fall. She'll be my undoing, my beautiful ruin. If she's the fire at the end of this path, then let me burn—because I'd rather be destroyed by her than saved by anything else.

  Slumber steals me away from my thoughts about her. Only to be pulled into my dreams haunted by her in them.

  Cra Wilson, I am YOURS.