Chapter 78: An Evening Tale

Martin released his hand from Miranda's mouth, his lips curving into a faint smile as his gaze lingered briefly on her before he turned away.

"Quickly, put your clothes on!" he said firmly.

From behind him, Miranda's voice floated hesitantly, tinged with embarrassment. "Alright... okay!"

When Martin turned back, he was startled to find her still under the covers, entirely unclothed.

"Do you sleep without any clothes on?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," she replied casually. "I find it more comfortable this way."

Martin chuckled, shaking his head. "Fine, suit yourself. Anyway, do you want to hear a story? I've been working on something new. Interested?"

Miranda looked at him intently, her expression suddenly curious. "Martin... did you peek at me just now?"

Her unexpected question caught him off guard.

"Does it look good?" she pressed, her cheeks faintly pink.

He hesitated for a moment before replying, grinning cheekily. "Of course. Perfect body."

Miranda blushed deeply, the redness spreading from her cheeks to her neck before she quickly ducked back under the covers. Despite her shyness, her confidence as a model—accustomed to the chaotic world of fashion—helped her recover quickly.

With a mischievous smile, she poked her head out from beneath the blanket and whispered, "Martin, since you've seen me, it's only fair that I get to see you too."

Martin leaned back, smirking lazily. "I don't mind. But if you want to see something, you'll have to take it off yourself."

His roguish tone left Miranda momentarily speechless, her mouth opening in protest before she gritted her teeth. "You think I won't dare?" she challenged.

"Go ahead, try me!" Martin teased.

With trembling hands, Miranda reached out, attempting to unbutton his shirt. Her fingers fumbled, either from nerves or the smooth fabric.

Martin couldn't help laughing triumphantly. "See? You can't even manage that!"

Irritated by his taunts, Miranda suddenly reached down and pinched him sharply.

"Ouch!" Martin yelped, jumping up and glaring at her. "What was that for?"

Miranda giggled, covering her face with the quilt. "That's what you get for being so smug, little brat!"

Martin narrowed his eyes playfully. "Not fair! My turn now!"

Her voice came from beneath the covers, teasing yet coquettish. "Fine, but you'll have to show me first before you get your revenge!"

Before she could react, Martin flipped the edge of the quilt and dove under it.

"Gotcha! Lightning attack!" he exclaimed, tickling her mercilessly.

Miranda squealed, laughing uncontrollably. "Stop it! It's so itchy! Don't—stop making a fuss!"

Eventually, their playful scuffle subsided, and Martin stretched out beneath the covers, catching his breath. Miranda lay beside him, her eyes shining as she gazed at him.

"Didn't you promise to tell me a story?" she murmured, curling into his arm.

Martin smiled down at her, her innocent yet enthralled expression lit softly by the glow of the nightlight. He leaned back against the headboard, resting his hands behind his head, and began to speak.

"This is a story about love," he began. "Bella Swan is a seventeen-year-old high school girl. Her father, Charlie, is a workaholic police officer, and her mother is impulsive and unpredictable. After their divorce, Bella went to live with her father in a small, rainy town called Forks..."

He continued weaving the tale of Twilight, altering its narration with his own flair to make the story more compelling. As he spoke, Martin's mind wandered to his plans for adapting the story into a screenplay.

The idea had struck him as the perfect transitional project for his career. He was entering that awkward phase between child and adult roles, a perilous time for any actor. Many young stars had faded into obscurity during this period. Martin was determined not to let that happen to him.

Twilight's appeal lay in its simplicity—a love story with a hint of fantasy, minimal special effects, and a broad audience. It was a safe yet strategic choice. Moreover, he had adapted the original plot to increase Edward Cullen's presence, confident that the changes would elevate its charm while keeping its essence intact.

As Martin spoke, his voice softened. He glanced down, realizing Miranda had fallen asleep. Her head rested lightly on his arm, her breathing steady and peaceful. The faint scent of her shower gel lingered in the air.

Smiling to himself, Martin gently turned off the bedside lamp and settled in, the girl beside him lost in dreams as he planned his next steps toward stardom.

[•———•——•———•]

𝙥𝗮𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙤𝙣(.)𝙘𝙤𝙢/𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙊𝙛𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

✨ • 𝗘𝘅𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀: 𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝟲𝟬+ 𝙖𝙙𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚.