Maria.

"You two seem to be getting pretty close."

Galen’s words lingered in the air long after she said them.

There had been something in her tone, something unreadable, that left me puzzled. It wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t exactly accusatory either. But it carried weight, enough to make me pause.

What was her own with our relationship?

The question formed instantly in my mind.

Why did it matter to her?

I wanted to ask.

The words rose to the tip of my tongue, ready to demand an explanation. But I swallowed them back down. I was already drained, physically and emotionally. The day had been overwhelming enough, and the last thing I needed was another confrontation.

And beneath everything else, one worry overshadowed all others.

Noah.

I walked to my bed and sat down slowly.

The mattress dipped beneath my weight, and for a moment, I simply stared ahead. My thoughts refused to settle. Galen’s words. Anabel’s presence around Noah. The way he had collapsed earlier. The look on his face before everything spiraled.

I tried to close my eyes.

Maybe if I shut everything out, even for a few minutes, my mind would quiet down.

But it didn’t.

Instead, images kept replaying.

Noah’s unconscious state.

Anabel, hovering over him.

The tension in the air.

My chest tightened.

I couldn’t rest.

Without realizing it, I pushed myself to my feet.

The movement was almost automatic.

Before I could talk myself out of it, my legs were already carrying me toward the door. I needed to see him. I needed to make sure he was okay with my own eyes.

Regardless of whether Anabel was there or not.

I stepped into the hallway, my heartbeat slightly unsteady. I tried to calm myself down as I walked.

He’s fine.

You don’t need to overreact.

But the further I moved from my room, the louder the worry became.

At one point, I slowed.

Maybe I should go back.

Maybe this wasn’t necessary.

Maybe I was overstepping.

But my feet didn’t turn around.

I kept going.

When I finally reached his door, I hesitated for only a second before pushing it open.

His voice rang out instantly, sharp and unrestrained. "I said I want to be alone...!"

The force of it made me flinch.

My hand tightened around the edge of the door. For a split second, I considered stepping back, apologizing, and leaving.

But then he saw me.

And everything changed.

His expression froze.

The anger that had laced his voice vanished, replaced with something else, something intense and unreadable.

Before I could process it, he moved toward me quickly.

Too quickly.

He grabbed my hands tightly.

The sudden contact startled me.

For a brief moment, panic flickered through me.

Had he lost control?

Had something happened?

His grip was firm, almost desperate.

"Noah, are you okay?" I asked immediately, concern overtaking my surprise.

I gently removed my hands from his grasp, not in rejection but to examine him properly. My eyes scanned his face, then his shoulders, his arms. My fingers moved lightly over him, checking for bruises, injuries, anything that might explain the earlier chaos.

Checking for any possible harm.

"You scared everyone," I murmured softly, almost to myself, as my hand brushed against his chest.

He looked fine.

No visible wounds.

No signs of damage.

Just that intensity in his eyes.

And before I could speak again, before I could ask what truly happened...He grabbed my wrist.

The movement was swift.

My breath caught.

He guided me backward until my back met the wall behind me. It wasn’t violent, but it was decisive. His hand slid to my waist, steadying me, while the other moved up to cup my face.

My heart pounded.

His touch was warm.

Firm.

Claiming.

And then, without hesitation, he closed the distance between us.

His lips pressed against mine.

I froze.

For a second, I didn’t understand what was happening.

Why was he doing this?

Why now?

Confusion flooded my thoughts.

But the kiss wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t uncertain. It carried urgency, emotion that felt deeper than impulse. My fingers, which had initially stiffened against his chest, slowly relaxed.

The warmth of him.

The familiarity.

The way his hand held my face as though I was something fragile yet precious.

The confusion didn’t disappear, but it softened.

His lips moved against mine with a desperation that made my heart race for entirely different reasons.

And despite the questions still swirling inside me, despite the surprise, I felt myself surrender.

Not out of weakness.

But because somewhere beneath the confusion, beneath the chaos of the day, there was something undeniable between us.

His hand tightened slightly at my waist, pulling me closer, my breath mingled with his.

The world outside the room seemed to fade.

And for those few suspended moments, there were no rumors, no accusations, no lingering questions.

Just the warmth of his lips on mine.

And the quiet storm of emotions I could no longer pretend not to feel.

His lips moved against mine with a hunger that stole the air from my lungs.

My fingers, which had been braced lightly against his chest, curled into the fabric of his shirt. I felt the steady, rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath my palm. It wasn’t calm. It wasn’t controlled.

It was real.

I parted my lips slightly, allowing the kiss to deepen. A quiet breath escaped me as his hold tightened at my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. The wall at my back felt cool compared to the warmth radiating from him.

My confusion slowly melted into something else, desire. A steady growing one.

His hand shifted from my cheek to the side of my neck, his thumb brushing gently along my skin. The touch sent a soft shiver through me, and I couldn’t stop the way my body responded.

I leaned into him.

Accepted him.

My other hand slid upward, resting against his shoulder before moving to the back of his neck. I felt the tension there, the coiled emotion he hadn’t spoken out loud.

His kiss softened slightly, losing some of its desperation and gaining something deeper. Slower. More deliberate. As if he was savoring the moment rather than claiming it.

My breath grew uneven.

I could feel the heat building between us, not just from closeness, but from everything unsaid that had been brewing for so long.

His forehead brushed mine briefly before his lips trailed down to the corner of my mouth, then along my jaw. The sensation made my fingers tighten in his hair. I felt my heart race wildly, each touch igniting a new spark beneath my skin.

"Noah..." I whispered softly, though I wasn’t sure if I meant it as a warning or an invitation.

His name tasted different on my lips now.

His hand at my waist slid slightly upward along my back, pressing me closer. I could feel the shift in his breathing, the way it deepened, roughened.

And for a moment, I thought...maybe this was where everything would finally cross the line.

My pulse hammered in my ears. My body responded to every movement of his hands, every brush of his lips. I felt lightheaded, not from confusion this time, but from the overwhelming intensity of him.

I wasn’t pulling away.

I wasn’t resisting.

I wanted him.

That realization startled me almost as much as the kiss had.

But before the moment could spiral any further, before we could lose ourselves completely, he suddenly stilled.

His lips lingered against mine for one final second.

Then he pulled back abruptly.

The warmth vanished.

The pressure of his body against mine disappeared.

The sudden absence left me breathless in a completely different way.

"I’m sorry, Maria," he said quickly, his voice strained. "I didn’t mean to do that."

His hands dropped from me.

He stepped back as though the closeness had burned him.

I blinked, still trying to steady my breathing, still trying to understand the shift.

He turned his face away from me, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His shoulders were tense, rigid.

The intensity that had filled his eyes moments ago was replaced with something conflicted.

Guilt.

Regret.

Or maybe fear.

I remained where I was, my back still against the wall, my lips still tingling from his touch.

I was stunned.

The warmth he had ignited hadn’t faded yet. My heart was still racing. My hands felt empty without the weight of him beneath them.

He didn’t mean to do that?

The words echoed in my mind.

Did he regret kissing me?

Or did he think I didn’t want it?

I slowly pushed myself off the wall, trying to steady my thoughts. The room felt different now, charged yet painfully quiet.

Just moments ago, everything had felt certain.

Now, it feels fragile.

Uncertain.

And as I watched his turned back, his jaw tight, his body rigid, I couldn’t tell what hurt more.

The abrupt distance he created.

Or the fact that, for those few seconds, I had wanted him just as much.