The Risk of Wanting You
She knew this was a mistake the moment she saw him again.
It wasn’t just the way he looked at her—it was the way her heart reacted, like it remembered something she had tried so hard to forget. Something dangerous. Something unfinished.
“We said this wouldn’t happen again,” she said, her voice quieter than she intended.
He leaned against the wall, calm, unreadable. “And yet… here we are.”
That was the problem. No matter how many times they walked away, they always found their way back. Like gravity. Like something inevitable.
“You don’t make this easy,” she added, trying to keep her distance.
A faint smile crossed his face. “It’s not supposed to be easy.”
He stepped closer, and the space between them shrank instantly. Her breath caught, her thoughts slipping out of control. She could leave—she should leave—but her feet refused to move.
“Tell me you don’t feel it,” he murmured.
She looked up at him, her eyes betraying everything. “I wish I could.”
That was all the permission he needed.
Slowly, he reached for her, giving her time to pull away. But she didn’t. Instead, she leaned into him, like she had been waiting for this moment longer than she would ever admit.
Their lips met in a kiss that was soft at first—hesitant, uncertain. But the tension between them didn’t stay quiet for long. It deepened, turning into something warm, consuming, impossible to ignore