The air in the apartment was different now—thicker, charged, humming with an energy that neither of them could ignore.
Amara's lips still tingled from their kiss, her pulse racing wildly, as though her body couldn't catch up with what her heart had just decided. She had let him in—not just into her home, but into the part of her that she had guarded so fiercely.
Adrian's eyes never left her. They burned with a heat that made her chest tighten, but beneath the fire was something even more dangerous—gentleness. A softness that stripped her of every last defense.
"You don't know what you've just done to me," he murmured, his voice low, rough.
Amara's breath hitched. "What have I done?"
He stepped closer, each movement deliberate, until his chest nearly brushed hers. His fingers ghosted along her jaw, trailing down to her collarbone, barely touching—yet it was enough to set her entire body alight.
"You've made me yours," he whispered.
Her heart stuttered at the confession. The room seemed to shrink around them, the silence broken only by the sound of their uneven breaths.
She tried to look away, tried to ground herself, but Adrian gently tilted her chin back to face him. Their eyes locked, and she was undone.
He kissed her again.
This time, it wasn't slow or tentative. It was urgent, consuming—like the storm they had held back for too long had finally broken free. His lips claimed hers with a hunger that made her knees weaken, his hands pulling her closer as though he could never be close enough.
Amara melted into him, her fingers tangling in his hair, her body pressed against his. The kiss deepened, a fiery clash of need and surrender, and she knew in that instant: there was no turning back.
When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Adrian rested his hand against her heart, feeling its frantic beat. His eyes softened, his voice trembling with raw truth.
"Do you feel that?" he asked. "That's what you do to me. Every time I'm near you, my heart feels like it might explode. I can't… I can't live without this. Without you."
Tears blurred Amara's vision, but this time they weren't born of fear. They were born of something stronger, something she had once thought she'd lost forever—hope.
She covered his hand with hers, pressing it harder against her chest. "Then don't. Don't live without me."
Adrian closed his eyes as if the words were too much to bear, and when he opened them again, his gaze was blazing with devotion.
Their lips met once more, softer now, slower—less a collision, more a promise. A promise that whatever storms lay ahead, they would face them together.
For the first time in years, Amara's heart felt whole.