The city vibrated with activity, the steady thrum of engines, of chatter, of neon lights. Kael got out of the cab, the rush coursing through him. New city. Fresh chances. Fresh temptation. He lugged the bags down the sidewalk to the shiny apartment high-rise, the boxes heavy against him, the thrill of expectation high. The apartment tower loomed above him, smooth glass that mirrored the golden twilight, and the promise of it took him over like he hadn't experienced it since he'd been a teenager.
Inside, his apartment smelled faintly of fresh paint and new beginnings. The floor gleamed, the walls were pristine, and large windows offered a view of the sprawling city below. Kael dropped his boxes with a satisfying thud and stretched, feeling his muscles protest and thrill in equal measure. Moving was always a laborious task, but he loved it, the feeling of creating a new life from scratch, the sense of freedom.
Then he saw her across the courtyard.
She stood on her balcony, nurturing her tiny group of plants. At first, Kael believed it to be the sunlight dancing across her hair, a golden halo that made her almost otherworldly. But the instant he looked closely, he experienced an electrical shock pass through him. She was young and fragile, yet every action exuded a delicate sensuality. The wafer-thin dress clung softly to her contours and emphasized them, but it didn't quite appear to be on purpose, and the swing of hips as she reached down to a flowerpot caused an unintended shiver down the spine of Kael.
He could hardly breathe. This was no ordinary neighbor. There was something about her—this innocent glow plus an accidental come-hither quality that drew him with a kind of magnetic attraction. He could not turn away.
He shook his head. "Just a neighbor," he grunted, but the fact remained irrefutable. Every glance made him imagine, made him fantasize about the things he hadn't thought of indulging in since years ago. She stroked her hair gently over her shoulder when turning to move a flowerpot, and Kael imagined his hand there instead.
The following day, Kael could not sit still. He unpacked a bit, then paced the corridors, feigning curiosity. Chance or perhaps curiosity drew him to the doors directly opposite his own, where he spotted her bearing a laundry basket. Eyes locked, and Kael experienced a compression of breath, a savory pain of expectation.
Hi," he panted, maintaining the casual tone, but the longing within the tone could not be concealed.
Her eyes widened slightly, and a soft smile touched her lips. "Hello," she replied, in a lilting voice that made Kael's imagination twist and coil. She was Liora, his neighbor, a woman whose mere presence made him ache.
"I'm Kael," he continued, offering him a handshake.
She didn't pause long, then reached out and took his hand gently, the contact delicate and brief. But it burned in him like flames. "Liora," she breathed, the tone soft, almost demure. Innocence coupled with accidental come-hither tantalized Kael's heartbeat. They made small talk, but Kael could not help noticing every slight movement, how she pushed a strand of hair away from her face, the curve of the mouth as she beamed, and the tilt of the head that seemed to encourage him to look at her. Every action tempted him, kindling fantasies he did not intend to hold down.
By nightfall, he could think of nothing else than of her. He stretched on his bed, gazing at the ceiling; visions of her smooth curves and smiling face crowded him. He pictured the touch of her skin, the taste of those soft lips, and the innocent sighs she could possibly utter if he ever took the risk of grasping her hand with his own. Longing swirled inside of him, bitter and insistent.
The next morning, he willed himself out of the apartment, even as every movement down the path to the balcony felt burdened with anticipation. And there she was once more, caring for her plants, basking in the morning sunlight, the glow illuminating her hair and making her appear unreachable and captivating at the very same time.
Kael's chest constricted, and he moved forward to the railing. "Pretty morning," he called out, maintaining a casual tone, yet every statement held a concealed yearning.
Liora looked up, her cheeks coloring slightly. "Yes, it is," she said softly, brushing a hand across her neck. That subtle gesture sent a shiver of raw desire down Kael's spine. He imagined tracing the line of her throat with his lips, imagining her soft sigh as he lingered there.
"Do you stay here all by yourself?" he asked, curiosity and a lingering hunger coloring his voice.
"Yes, my parents are away for a bit," she told him, looking at him with innocence and a little sly glance of dare. "Just me."
His mind ran wild. She was flirting with him and didn't even know it, tempting him nearer with every statement, every look. "You have lovely hands," he breathed aloud, barely above a whisper.
She gazed down at her hands as if seeing them for the very first time, then at him again, her mouth opening slowly. "Thank you," she murmured, and Kael's head exploded with sensory detail of cradling those hands, of kissing the skin, of causing her to shake within his arms.
They stood, it seemed, for an eternity, the tension between them electrical. The warmth of the body of the woman reached out to him; the movement of the hips and the brushing of the hair, each of these feeding the hunger that was consuming him.
And then Liora moved away, going back into her apartment, but the pink on her face revealed that she knew of their intimacy. Kael laid his palm on the railing, as if it were she, imagining the gentle heat, the provocative caress that left him yearning.
That night, Kael lay awake, fantasies of her consuming him. He imagined their hands entwined, lips brushing, bodies pressed close, every innocent smile hiding a promise of something more. Desire coiled in him like a living thing, whispering that he could no longer resist. By the following day, Kael knew that Liora was a neighbor and more than that. She was a test, a temptation, a flame he longed to immerse himself in. And he was prepared- starving, restless, and completely enthralled.