In the privacy of his home, surrounded by the quiet intimacy of soft lighting and faint scents of cedar and leather, Richard felt the reality of the moment settle in. He watched Eve as she slowly took in her surroundings, her fingers trailing along the edges of his shelves, her curiosity bringing warmth to every corner.
He stepped closer, drawn by her presence. “I missed this,” he murmured, his hand slipping beneath her hair to rest against her neck. “Just seeing you here… it’s everything I thought I’d lost.”
Eve tilted her head, her gaze intense as she searched his eyes. “Then show me, Richard.”
He drew her in with a fierce need, his hands roaming her back as their mouths collided, their kiss deepening with every passing second. His fingertips traced lines along her shoulders, over her arms, down to her waist. Every touch was a map of memory, rekindling the fire that had lain dormant. She melted into him, her hands pressing into his back, pulling him closer as if she, too, feared losing this again.
Their movements became a slow dance, lips tracing every curve, rediscovering each line and contour, their breaths mingling as they whispered the secrets of their past selves. There were no more words, just the language of touch and sensation, of skin against skin and shared vulnerability.
