Dear Destiny

18- Dear Strength

*REET*

"I was literally controlling my urge to spit on her face due to her disgusting touch but lucky me who got gifted with this mad injury and this mad girl by side" He said looking playfully to me

The intensity of the moment left me speechless, my body trembling, torn between confusion. Ariv spoke again, his voice softer, more concerned.

"But just tell me, Reet," he repeated, his tone holding a vulnerability that tugged at my chest. "You didn't get hurt too, did you?"

A sting bloomed in my chest, and my heart twisted painfully. Yes, I had gotten hurt-both physically and in ways I didn't want to acknowledge. I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes, so I looked down, trying to hide the ache that was threatening to overwhelm me. But Ariv wasn't someone to let things go that easily.

Before I could react, he grabbed my ankle and tugged me toward him. A gasp escaped my lips as he pulled me closer, until our faces were just inches apart. His breath mingled with mine, and I could feel the pounding of my heart reverberating through every part of my body, the rhythm quickening with every second. His hands moved lower, brushing against my socks as he gently pulled them off.

At that moment, it felt like I'd lost all control of myself. His touch-it had this strange power over me, making me passive, weak. My bare feet, still stained with the red alta, were now fully exposed to him. His eyes traced the injured mark I got by falling, a smirk playing on his lips. But this wasn't his usual teasing grin; this one was different. It was softer, almost... admiring.

Without a word, he turned me around effortlessly, as though I weighed nothing. My back was now pressed against his firm chest, his thighs resting on either side of me. My breathing hitched as I craned my neck, catching his hazel eyes that were now intently fixed on me. He didn't break the gaze, but his hands moved, grabbing my foot and resting it on his thigh.

"What are you-" I started to ask, my voice faltering.

"Shhh," he silenced me, his breath warm against my skin. His hands reached for the ointment, and I watched, confused and overwhelmed, as he poured some into his palm. I should have stopped him. I should've said something. But I couldn't. I didn't want to.

He leaned closer, his chin brushing against my collarbone, and my breath caught in my throat. My body felt like it was no longer mine-like I had surrendered control the moment his hands touched me. Why was I feeling like this? Why did his touch make me weak, and yet... I craved more.

Slowly, his hands started massaging the ointment into my aching feet. The pain flared, and I hissed softly, arching my neck in response. He sensed my discomfort and, without warning, leaned deeper into the curve of my neck. His breath was hot against my skin, sending waves of electricity through me.

I couldn't handle it. His touch-it burned. It overwhelmed. His nose buried itself into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply, and I closed my eyes, surrendering to the feeling. His hand moved up, tracing a path that left heat in its wake, squeezing my ankle gently, almost possessively. Every inch of me was on fire. I could feel my heart thudding, pounding against my chest as his hands travelled higher to my ankles then towards my knees, making me burn from the inside out.

A moan slipped out before I could stop it, the sensation too much to hold back. His fingers traced higher, leaving me breathless, and without thinking, my hand lifted, finding its way to his cheek. I pressed him closer, pulling him deeper into me, wanting more, needing more of this overwhelming sensation that I couldn't name.

But then, the sudden sound of the doorknob twisting brought me crashing back to reality. My heart leapt into my throat as panic washed over me. What if someone saw us like this?