The door swings shut behind us, and everything goes silent for a second.
Not quiet—charged. Like the whole room is holding its breath.
I'm in his arms, my legs around his waist, breath hot against his neck.
And he's looking at me like I'm the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
"You love me?" he says, voice low, dangerous.
Not mocking. Just needing to hear it again.
I look away like it cost me too much to say it once.
But he grabs my chin gently, forcing me to look at him.
"Say it."
My throat tightens. "Why? So you can leave again?"
His eyes flash. "I didn't leave. You told me to forget you."
I flinch. That guilt—real and sharp.
He leans in, forehead against mine. "You can't ask someone to forget a fire like you. You don't get to."
His hands slide under my thighs, walking them both to the bed like it's instinct.
I am still fighting the way my body arches toward him—like my heart already decided and my pride's trying to catch up.
He lays me down slowly. Hovering. Heavy with restraint.
But his eyes?
They're devouring me.
"You said you loved me," he says again, pulling off his shirt.
I watch him like I'm afraid he'll disappear if I blink.
"Yeah," I whisper.
"Prove it."
I pull him down to me by the chain around his neck, lips crashing into his with teeth and hunger and pain.
Like I have been starving and he's it.
His hands explore me like they forgot nothing. Like every inch still belongs to him.
"You still taste the same," he mutters against my mouth.
I bite his lip. "Still talk too much."
He chuckles—low. That sound that used to undo me.
"You liked it when I talked you through it the first time," he whispers, brushing his knuckles along my ribs.
"You remember how shy you were? Blushing. Trembling."
He tugs my top over my head—slow, taunting. Like unwrapping a secret.
"I had to teach you everything."
His lips ghost over my collarbone.
I grab his hair, yanking his face up to mine. "And now?"
He grins. Eyes locked with mine.
"Now you show me what you learned."
And when I pull him down again, there's no hesitation.
Only fire.
Only us.
Because this time—
It's not about forgetting.
It's about never letting go.
My breath stutters as he moves over me—
not fast, not rough.
Intentional.
Like he's making sure I feel every second of this.
Every place he touches.
Every way I used to fall apart for him—and still do.
Sheets twist beneath us.
My hands claw at his back, his neck, anywhere we can hold onto.
Because I need to anchor myself, or I might shatter.
"You're shaking," he murmurs, lips brushing my ear.
"I'm fine," I lie, voice raw.
But he knows me more than I know myself.
Always did.
"You're not fine," he says, slipping a hand between my thighs.
"You're mine."
I gasp, back arching. "You're such an asshole—"
He smirks, dragging his mouth down my chest, slow and wicked.
"You used to love that about me."
"I still f***ing hate you," I whisper.
And he pauses—looks up at me, pupils blown wide, chest rising.
"Then why are you falling apart every time I touch you?"
I can't answer.
So I kiss him instead—hard. Needy. All tongue and desperation.
He pins my wrists above my head with one hand, voice dark and low:
"You want to act like you forgot what we had?"
He slides into me like it's home—slow, deep, unrelenting.
"Then let me remind you."
I cried out, legs trembling, eyes already glassy.
But he doesn't stop.
"You said 'stop' back there," he whispers, dragging his mouth along my neck.
"But your body says 'don't you f***ing dare.'"
My breath hitches.
"You think I haven't thought about this?" he growls, moving with a rhythm that makes me see stars.
"Every night I wanted to forget you, I remembered this instead."
I try to say his name—fails.
He grins, kissing the corner of my mouth.
"That's right, baby. Lose it for me."
And when I do, it's messy, loud, uncontrollable—like my heart split wide open and only he knows how to hold it.
He follows right after me, burying his face in my neck, voice wrecked.
"God, I f***ing love you."
And just like that—
Silence.
Not empty.
Full.
Our bodies tangled, breath mingling, skin still burning.
A moment suspended in the aftermath of everything we ran from.
I blink up at the ceiling, my voice small.
"…What now?"
He turns to me, brushing hair from my face.
"Now?" he whispers, kissing my forehead.
"Now I never let you go again."