In the aftermath of their kiss, the silence between them grew heavier, thick with the intimacy they'd just shared. Richard led her outside, his hand firmly clasped around hers, reluctant to let her go even for a moment. They walked slowly along the quiet street, their footsteps echoing in sync, each one taking them closer to a place they'd never been before — and yet, closer to something that felt intensely familiar.
Eve looked up at him, her eyes bright with an unspoken question, as though she were trying to understand the depth of what was unfolding between them. Richard felt her gaze like a caress, igniting parts of him he’d thought had gone dormant. He paused, pulling her gently toward him, his hand slipping around her waist as he felt the soft warmth of her skin beneath the fabric.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Richard,” she whispered, her voice laced with vulnerability, yet touched by a hunger he knew well.
“We don’t have to know right now,” he replied softly, brushing his lips against her forehead. “But I can’t pretend anymore, Eve. I can’t walk away from you again.”
Eve’s lips curved into a small, wistful smile. “I don’t want you to.”
He pulled her closer, his arms encircling her fully, as if she were the only thing grounding him. The world beyond them blurred into insignificance; only the softness of her hair against his cheek, the rhythm of her breath, and the rapid beat of her pulse remained. They moved together like two parts of the same heartbeat, an unstoppable rhythm guiding them to his apartment.
