She told herself she wouldn't come. She told herself staying away was safer, smarter.
And yet here she was—library's deserted top floor, the shadows of midnight pressing in, her heartbeat betraying her with every step.
He was already there. Waiting.
Riyan leaned against the window frame, city lights painting fire across his sharp features. But his eyes—dark, unreadable—snapped to her the instant she entered.
Her breath caught.
"Running again?" His voice was low, rough, scraping against her nerves like flint on stone.
Her fingers tightened around her notebook. "I'm not running."
"Liar."
The word cut, but not cruelly—more like a challenge, daring her to step closer instead of retreat.
And against all reason, she did.
She moved toward him, hesitant but burning, like a moth daring the flame. He should've stayed silent, should've kept his distance—but he couldn't anymore.
He pushed off the wall, closing the space between them until there was nothing left but heat and breath and reckless, dangerous want.
Her eyes lifted, defiant even in her trembling. His hand found her jaw, thumb grazing her skin like it had always belonged there.
"Tell me you don't feel this," he whispered. His forehead brushed hers, his voice breaking in the cracks. "Tell me, and I'll stop."
Her lips parted, a shaky exhale spilling between them.
But no words came.
And that silence was the answer.
Then his mouth crashed into hers.
It wasn't soft. It wasn't tentative. It was fire, desperate and consuming, like he'd been caging it for too long and now it ripped free.
Her hands fisted in his shirt, dragging him closer, her back hitting the wall as his body pressed against hers. The kiss deepened, rough edges melting into something that left her dizzy, undone.
Every thought, every fear, every wall—they burned away in that moment.
She wasn't the invisible girl anymore. Not here. Not with him.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, he pressed his forehead against hers, still holding her like he couldn't let go.
"This…" His voice was hoarse, raw. "This isn't going away."
Her chest heaved, her lips tingling, her entire world tilted. She didn't answer—she didn't need to.
Because for the first time, she wasn't running.