Say my Name-rewrite

"Goddamnit."

Maya's POV:

Everything about this felt wrong.

Not because I didn't want it. But because I did.
Because being in his arms—it felt good. Too good.

And that was dangerous.

Every instinct in me was screaming to run. To put distance between us before this became something I couldn't control. Before I let myself feel too much. Before I forgot why I never let myself have this.

I should have pulled away. Should have cracked a joke, brushed it off, turned it into something meaningless—something I could walk away from without consequence. Because that's how I survived. That's how I stayed safe.

But I didn't move.

Because something held me here. Not his strength. Not his grip. Something else.
Something deep inside me that didn't want to give this up. Because God help me, it felt good.
The warmth of him, the solid weight of his body against mine. The way he was holding me—not restraining, not trapping. Just holding.
Like I wasn't something to push away, or something to figure out. Just something to be near.

And the worst part?

I wanted to lean into it. I wanted to close my eyes, to let myself sink into the warmth, to feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek.
I wanted to let myself stay.

A breath shuddered out of me before I could stop it. My fingers clenched in his shirt, my forehead pressed against him, and before I even knew I was saying it, the words slipped past my lips, so soft I barely heard them myself.

"You're going to ruin me, aren't you?"

His chest rose beneath me with a deep inhale, like he felt those words in his bones.

He didn't answer right away. Didn't pull back.
Didn't try to deny it. Because we both knew the truth. This? Whatever this was between us?
It was already happening.

I clenched my jaw, my body still pressed against his. Every part of me should've been fighting this.
Should've been pushing him away, forcing the space back between us before I lost myself in it.

But I wasn't. I was just...here.

And for the first time in longer than I could remember, I let someone hold me. And it felt so damn good. And that's what scared me the most.

God, he was annoying.

Not just because he was standing here, holding me like he had a right to. Not just because he had seen me—really seen me in a way no one ever had. But because he was devastatingly beautiful and just as broken as I was.

I hated that about him. I hated that it made me feel like I wasn't alone. Like he would actually catch me if I fell.

I lifted my chin, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

His eyes moved over my face, slow and deliberate, like he was searching for something—something only he could see.

Then, gently, his fingers brushed my hair away from my face. Soft. Careful. Like he wasn't afraid of what he might find there. Like he wasn't afraid of me. And when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet.

"I think we're gonna ruin each other."

Something in my chest tightened. Because he wasn't trying to scare me off. He wasn't warning me. He was just telling the truth.

I searched his eyes—those stupidly gorgeous, stupidly kind, stupidly blue eyes.

No malice. No games. Just warmth. Just honesty.