She woke with bruised lips.Not visible, not obvious—but she could feel them, tingling like a secret kiss-mark carved into her soul.
All day she caught herself smiling at nothing, drifting into memories of his mouth on hers, the way his hands had clutched her like he was drowning. And every time she remembered, her stomach swooped, her cheeks heated.
She told herself to focus. But her eyes kept finding him. Across the lecture hall. In the canteen. By the library steps.
And every single time, his gaze locked on hers like a magnet. Heated. Possessive. A silent promise.
It was unbearable. Deliciously unbearable.
He couldn't stop.
Every rule he'd built, every mask he wore—it was all unraveling, thread by thread. And the worst part? He didn't care.
Between classes, he brushed past her, fingers ghosting over her wrist just long enough to leave sparks.In the library, he leaned too close, his breath teasing her ear as he explained a line she wasn't even reading.On the staircase landing, when no one was around, he caged her against the railing, lips grazing hers in a kiss stolen like contraband.
She gasped, scolded, pushed at his chest—then melted right back into his arms.
Every secret moment burned hotter. Every kiss grew wilder, more reckless. And still, it wasn't enough.
She hated how much she craved it.
How she found herself sneaking out to meet him on the rooftop at night, the city spread out like a glittering confession beneath them. How she let his hands explore the curve of her waist, her spine arching when his mouth traced her throat.
Every kiss was a dare. Every touch a battle she wanted to lose.
But afterward—when her pulse slowed, when she stumbled back to her hostel room, lips swollen, heart aching—fear crept in.
Because secrets like this didn't stay secrets for long.
And deep down, she knew…
They were playing with fire.