Naivety World

He followed me into the ladies room.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” he said, low and menacing. 

“Or what!” I shot back, turning to face him. 

He stepped closer, his jaw clenched, eyes burning with something dark and desperate. For a moment, silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. He closed the gap between us in a single step.

“You don’t get it, do you? This…us…it’s never been a game for me.”

He reached out, but I took a step back, my hands pressing against the cool surface of the sink behind me. Undeterred, he moved closer, threading his fingers through my locs and tilting my head back until our eyes met.  His breath brushed against my skin, close enough to feel the heat radiating from him. My heart raced, my pulse drumming in my ears.

“You don’t get to do this,” I muttered, the words falling out sharper than I intended, my hands gripping the edge of the sink as if it could anchor me.

“Do what?” he asked, his voice low, intimate. “Tell the truth?”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. His eyes searched mine, piercing through my armor. I tried to look away, but his fingers tightened just enough to hold my gaze.

“You’ve always run from this,” he said, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. “From us. But I’m not letting you run anymore.”

“You think you can just walk back into my life and—”

“I never left,” he interrupted, his voice rough, the frustration clear. “You pushed me out. But I stayed. I’m still here.”

A lump formed in my throat.

“Then why now?” I whispered, the question slipping out before I could stop it.

His eyes softened for the briefest moment. “Because I’m done pretending I can live without you.”

How was I supposed to respond to that? His thumb grazed my cheek, slow and deliberate, the roughness of his skin sending a shiver down my spine. His grip on my locs loosened, but he didn’t let go, keeping me in place as his other hand trailed down my arm, barely touching me.

I could feel the heat of him, so close, his body almost pressing against mine. My breath hitched when he leaned in, his lips hovering near my ear, his voice a hushed rasp that made my skin tingle. “You feel that, don’t you?” he murmured.

He moved closer still, his chest brushing against mine, the space between us evaporating until there was nothing but heat, and the thrum of tension that neither of us could ignore. His lips ghosted over my jaw, so close yet just out of reach, teasing, like he was daring me to push him away or pull him closer. I could feel the soft drag of his thumb as it traced the curve of my jaw, sending warmth pooling deep inside me.

His fingers tangled deeper into my locs, pulling my head back just enough to expose my neck, and he pressed a kiss there. My breath caught in my throat, a soft gasp escaping. His lips traced a slow path up my neck, stopping just below my ear, his voice like velvet as he whispered, “Tell me to stop.”

But I didn’t. Couldn’t. My body betrayed me, arching toward him, drawn in by the electric pull I’d been fighting for far too long. His lips curved into a knowing smile against my skin. His hand left my arm, trailing slowly down my side, and every inch of me burned under his touch. When his fingers found my waist, he gripped me firmly, pulling me against him until there was no space left between us.

My breath came in shallow, uneven waves, the intensity of the moment threatening to unravel me completely. He moved his other hand from my locs, sliding it down the back of my neck, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin there, sending a ripple of heat through me.

I bit my lip, trying to steady myself, but it was useless. The air between us was thick with tension, the kind that made it impossible to think clearly. His hand skimmed lower, tracing the curve of my hip as he pressed his body more fully into mine. My head fell back against the mirror behind me, my heart racing as he kissed along my collarbone, his lips soft but insistent, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmured against my skin, his voice low. “Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

My hands, still gripping the edge of the sink, slowly loosened as I reached for him, my fingers brushing against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under my palm. His breath hitched at my touch, and for a moment, it was like we were both on the edge. His lips found mine, slow at first, like he was giving me one last chance to pull away, but when I didn’t, when I kissed him back, the floodgates broke.

The kiss deepened, all the tension, all the frustration we’d been holding back pouring into it. His hands tightened on me, pulling me closer, his mouth moving against mine with an urgency that made my heart pound. I could taste the hunger in his kiss, feel the raw desire in the way his fingers dug into my waist, as if he was afraid to let me go.

I could barely think, barely breathe, as his lips moved with mine. There was only the heat between us, the way my body responded to his touch, and the way every inch of me seemed to come alive under his hands. In that moment, nothing else mattered.