The storm outside had nothing on what churned inside them.
Riven lay tangled in Cassian's sheets, his body still aching from the night before. Every bruise, every mark was a silent echo of Cassian's mouth, his hands, his need.
But now… there was quiet.
Cassian stood at the edge of the bed, shirtless, watching him. His chest rose and fell slowly—as if holding something in.
"Why are you staring?" Riven asked, voice hoarse.
Cassian moved closer, brushing Riven's hair off his forehead. "Because I've never wanted someone to stay before."
Riven swallowed hard. "Don't say things you don't mean."
Cassian crawled back into bed, sliding over him. "I mean every word. Even the ones I haven't said yet."
Their mouths met—slow, reverent, no less intense than their wildest moments. Cassian kissed him like he wanted to know his soul. Riven kissed back like he was terrified it would vanish.
Hands explored again—this time unhurried.
Cassian took his time tasting every part of him. Chest. Thighs. Inner wrist. Every kiss a silent vow.
And when he finally entered Riven again, it was slow. Deep. Unbearably intimate.
No demands.
Just a need to feel everything.
Riven wrapped his legs around Cassian's waist, fingers clawing into his back as they moved together—rhythm steady, breaths syncing, hearts pounding.
Their climax hit not like a storm—but like gravity—pulling them into something neither was ready to name.
After, they lay tangled—silent.
Cassian broke it. "You feel like a tether."
"To what?"
"To who I used to be. And who I could be again."
Riven didn't reply. He just held him tighter.
Maybe that was answer enough.