The city lights blurred behind the rain-streaked window as she stood there, heart racing for reasons she didn’t want to admit. When he walked into the room, everything changed—like the air itself had shifted.
“You’re late,” she said softly, trying to hide the way her voice trembled.
“I didn’t want to come,” he replied honestly, stepping closer instead of leaving.
That was the problem between them—truth. Too much of it. Too dangerous to ignore.
The silence stretched, heavy and electric. She turned away, but he didn’t let the distance grow. One step closer. Then another. Until she could feel the warmth of him behind her.
“Why do you always do this?” she whispered.
“Do what?”
“Make it impossible to think straight.”
A low breath escaped him, almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it. Just tension. Just everything unspoken between them.
When she finally turned around, she regretted it instantly. Not because she shouldn’t have—but because she should have known what it would do to her.
The space between them disappeared in seconds. Not rushed. Not forced. Just inevitable.
His hand lifted—but stopped just short of her face, waiting. Asking without words.
She closed her eyes for a moment… then stepped closer herself.
That was all the permission he needed to close the distance completely.
No more distance. No more pretending.
Just two people standing too close to walk away from what they had been fighting all along.
And outside, the rain kept falling—like it already knew the night had changed everything.