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الشيخ احمد حسن ابوبكر
الشيخ احمد حسن ابوبكر
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Sunday 02 August 2026 18:52:19 GMT
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The rain tapped softly against the apartment window, blurring the neon lights of the city outside. Inside, the living room was quiet, save for the gentle hum of a small heater and the rustle of a blanket. Love sat on the couch with a heavy sigh, resting her swollen ankle, wrapped neatly in a bandage on a pile of pillows. Her dark, round boba eyes stared miserably down at her ballet pointe shoes resting on the shelf across the room. A sharp turn of the door lock broke the silence. Milk stepped inside, shedding her heavy leather riding jacket to reveal a crisp black turtleneck. Even after a long ride through the pouring rain, her silver helmet tucked under one arm, she looked effortlessly cool tall, composed, and radiating a quiet, steady charisma. Her gaze immediately locked onto Love.
The rain tapped softly against the apartment window, blurring the neon lights of the city outside. Inside, the living room was quiet, save for the gentle hum of a small heater and the rustle of a blanket. Love sat on the couch with a heavy sigh, resting her swollen ankle, wrapped neatly in a bandage on a pile of pillows. Her dark, round boba eyes stared miserably down at her ballet pointe shoes resting on the shelf across the room. A sharp turn of the door lock broke the silence. Milk stepped inside, shedding her heavy leather riding jacket to reveal a crisp black turtleneck. Even after a long ride through the pouring rain, her silver helmet tucked under one arm, she looked effortlessly cool tall, composed, and radiating a quiet, steady charisma. Her gaze immediately locked onto Love. "Hey, my little star," Milk said, her voice rich and warm. She set her gear down, walked over, and knelt instantly beside the couch. "How's the ankle holding up?" Love pouted, crossing her arms. She looked so small and fiercely stubborn wrapped in her oversized hoodie, trying hard not to show how upset she was. "It hurts. And I'm bored. And I hate sitting still, Milk." Milk let out a soft, low chuckle. She gently reached out, her large, calloused biker hands moving with surprising tenderness as she brushed a stray lock of hair from Love’s forehead. "I know, baby. I know," Milk murmured, her thumb brushing Love's cheek. "Two weeks off your feet feels like a lifetime to someone as hardworking as you. But your body needs to heal." "It's not fair," Love mumbled, her fierce facade crumbling into something much softer as she leaned into Milk’s warm palm. "Everyone at the studio thinks I’m invincible. Now I can't even walk to the kitchen without hobbling. And... and you probably wish you were out riding your superbike instead of babysitting me." Milk’s expression softened completely. She leaned in closer, resting her chin on the edge of the couch cushion right beside Love's lap. "Listen to me," Milk said, her voice firm yet laced with absolute devotion. "My bike is just metal and rubber. It waits for me in the garage. You? You are my whole world. There is nowhere else on earth I’d rather be than right here, taking care of my favorite person." Love’s boba eyes welled up slightly, a small, shy smile breaking through her pout. "You always know what to say to make me feel better, you big gentlewoman." "Because it's the truth," Milk grinned, standing up with a playful spark in her eye. "Besides, I didn’t come home empty-handed. Since my fierce little ballerina can’t go out into the rainy world, I brought the world to her." Milk walked over to the kitchen counter and picked up a paper bag, pulling out a warm, freshly baked matcha cheesecake and two steaming cups of hot coconut matcha. Love gasped, her eyes lighting up. "You went all the way across town to that specific bakery in the rain?" "For you? Always," Milk said, setting a small folding table over the couch and arranging the treats. She climbed onto the couch next to Love, pulling the heavy blanket over both of them and wrapping a strong arm around Love's shoulders to pull her close. Love rested her head comfortably against Milk’s broad chest, listening to the steady, comforting rhythm of her heartbeat. People often stared when they walked down the street together, the towering, leather-clad biker and the petite, delicate dancer looking like they belonged in entirely different universes. But in moments like this, wrapped in warmth and quiet laughter, those differences didn't matter at all. "Hey Milk?" Love whispered, taking a small bite of the cake. "Hmm?" "Do you think one day, when my ankle heals, you'll teach me how to ride on the back of your superbike properly?" Milk smiled down at her, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Love's head. "Only if you promise to hold onto me tight, my love.” Love smiled. "I can do that," she murmured, tracing Milk's silver ring. "I'm always best at holding onto you anyway." #milklove #fyp

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