street was quiet, the lingering scent of rain clinging to the air, when Chris walked Taylor to her doorstep. Their fingers intertwined, each brush sending a spark of warmth up her arm. The soft glow of the streetlights painted them in gold, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.
"Tomorrow morning…" Chris murmured, his thumb stroking the back of her hand in slow, deliberate circles. "You're really leaving so soon."
Taylor's chest tightened. "Yeah… my mom's waiting," she whispered. Her gaze fell to the ground for a fleeting second before returning to his. "I promised I'd come back."
Chris stopped, turning her gently to face him. The depth of his dark eyes made her pulse quicken — intense, unwavering, yet tender. "I hate goodbyes," he confessed softly, his voice almost breaking.
Taylor's lips trembled as her breath caught. "Me too…"
For a heartbeat, the rest of the world vanished. Slowly, instinctively, Chris leaned in, and their foreheads touched, warm and intimate. The first kiss was soft, exploratory, almost hesitant. Then, as if pulled by some invisible thread, it deepened, slow and languid, a kiss that lingered, carrying every ounce of longing, need, and love they had held back.
Taylor's hands slid along his chest, feeling the heat radiating from him, the steady beat of his heart under her touch. She pressed closer, letting herself sink into his warmth.
Chris wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him as if letting go could make her vanish. His lips traced hers again, soft and lingering, each brush, each press, electric and intoxicating.
"You… drive me crazy," Taylor whispered, voice barely audible, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt.
"I know," he murmured against her lips, voice low and thick with emotion. "And I can't help it." His hands roamed gently, brushing along her back and arms, pulling her impossibly closer. Every motion was tender, deliberate — a silent promise of safety, desire, and devotion.
They kissed again, slower this time, with a deliberate urgency that spoke of everything words could never convey. Taylor felt the electricity of their closeness in every nerve, every shiver, every breath. Chris's lips followed hers to her jaw, her temple, lingering just long enough to make her shiver in anticipation.
Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, craving the warmth and intensity of him. "I… I love you," she whispered, her voice trembling with unspoken emotion.
Chris's lips brushed her temple, her cheek, as if memorizing every curve of her face. "I love you too… more than you'll ever know," he murmured, fingers tracing her arms lightly, holding her with a combination of need and reverence.
They stayed pressed together, lost in each other, exchanging soft whispers, shy laughs, lingering touches, and shivers that made their hearts pound. Every glance, every sigh, every shiver was a silent confession, drawing them deeper into a cocoon of intimacy.
Finally, Taylor rested her head on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat, letting herself melt completely into him. Chris's hands lingered along her back and hair, brushing away loose strands as he held her close.
"I'll miss you tomorrow," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.
"I'll miss you too…" she breathed, closing her eyes, a small, contented smile tugging at her lips. "But we'll see each other soon."
Chris pressed her impossibly close, nuzzling her temple. "Always," he whispered, voice low, promising that no distance or time could break what they had.
And in that quiet, golden-lit room, they remained, hearts beating together, pressed in a cocoon of warmth, intimacy, and longing — a night that belonged entirely to them, every touch, kiss, and whispered word etched in memory.