The Heat Between Us

The music was loud, but somehow, all Zara could hear was her own heartbeat.
Across the room, Arman watched her—intensely, unapologetically. The kind of look that made her feel exposed without a single word being spoken. She tried to ignore it, sipping her drink, but it was impossible.
He was already walking toward her.
“Running away from me?” he teased, stopping just inches away.
“Maybe,” she replied, though her voice wasn’t as steady as she wanted.
He smirked, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between them. The air shifted—warmer, heavier. His presence was overwhelming in the best way.
“You don’t look like you want to run,” he whispered.
Before she could respond, his hand gently tilted her chin up. Their eyes met for a split second—then everything blurred.
His lips found hers.
The kiss was sudden, deep, and full of tension that had been building all night. Zara froze for half a second, then melted into it, her fingers gripping his jacket as if letting go wasn’t an option.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t shy.
It was bold.
He pulled back slightly, their breaths mixing, foreheads almost touching. “Still want to run?” he murmured.
She shook her head, breathless.
That was enough.
He kissed her again—slower this time, more intense, as if he was memorizing every second. The world around them disappeared completely, leaving only the heat, the closeness, the undeniable pull.
In that moment, nothing else mattered.
Not the crowd, not the noise, not the consequences.
Just him. Just her.
And the fire they both knew had only just begun.