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🕑 Added 2025-06-16 17:00:07 +0000 UTCThe apartment was quiet, except for the hum of the heater and the soft creak of the old floor beneath my steps. It was past midnight, but neither of us had gone to bed. Not really. Not with this pull between us β warm, steady, and just beneath the surface.
I wore my favorite pajama set β loose and light, soft against my skin. The sleep mask Iβd meant to wear hours ago was pushed up on my head, forgotten, nestled in the mess of my hair. Candlelight flickered on the coffee table, casting shadows across the walls and catching in his eyes every time he looked at me.
Which was often.
I crossed the room barefoot, dragging the plush throw from the couch behind me like a makeshift cape. He was already on the floor, back against the cushions, legs stretched out. Waiting.
Without a word, I dropped the blanket between us and climbed into his lap.
The moment I settled there β knees on either side of his hips, my arms resting loosely around his neck β he exhaled. Slowly. Like Iβd knocked the breath right out of him just by being close.
I smiled, brushing my nose against his.
βYou werenβt going to sleep, were you?β I whispered.
He shook his head. βNot without this.β
We stayed like that β forehead to forehead, breath mingling β for a moment longer. And then his hands found my waist, sliding beneath the hem of my shirt, not rushing, just feeling. Like he was learning the shape of me all over again.
My lips brushed his β a kiss barely there, more promise than action. But it was enough. Enough to shift everything.
Our bodies pressed closer, warmth rising between us, the softness of cotton and flannel replaced by the fire building just beneath skin. His touch wandered up my back, down my spine, across my hips. My head tipped back with a sigh, the sleep mask falling loosely from my hair to rest against his shoulder.
Time didnβt matter.
It was just the two of us, lost in slow touches and quiet moans, the glow of city lights spilling through the window and painting gold across our tangled silhouettes.
And when we finally curled up together on the rug β blanket pulled over us, breath slowing, hearts still racing β I felt more awake than I had all day.
Maybe it was the intimacy.
Maybe the way he held me, like I was the dream he didnβt want to wake from.
Or maybe⦠it was just us.
