Captured by the Yandere Space Pirates-Chapter 17 -

"Yes, you did," Syn rasped, his throat still raw from Aster's chokehold as he slumped against the cell wall. "I nearly died back there." He forced a weak chuckle, a half-hearted attempt to lighten the moment, but Aster's gaze remained fixed on the floor, her broad shoulders hunched as if she hadn't heard him—or couldn't. Her blonde hair spilled forward, veiling her face, and the silence stretched taut between them, heavy with something unspoken.

She lifted her head slowly, her eyes glistening as they met his, and her voice trembled when she spoke. "It's all because of you, Syn. You're so damn stubborn." The words carried a sad undertone, her usual bravado wavering as emotion cracked through. "And selfish. And infuriating. And just... bad. So bad." Her voice broke on the last word, a childish litany spilling out as tears welled in her eyes, her tall, muscular frame trembling like a storm about to break.

Syn watched her, the sight tugging at him uncomfortably. It was like she was throwing a tantrum, but beneath it was a wound he'd helped carve. "Yeah," he said softly, his tone heavy with acceptance, "I am all those things. I'm sorry, Aster." He let her insults settle over him like a weight he deserved, his hands resting limply in his lap.

Aster's glare sharpened, her tears brimming but not yet falling. In a sudden surge, she swooped forward, her hands seizing his collar with a grip that rattled his bones. She shoved him back against the wall, the cold metal biting into his spine as she loomed over him, her face inches from his. "Sorry?" she snapped, anger flaring through her sadness, her voice rising with a jagged edge. "What's that supposed to mean, huh? You think 'sorry' fixes anything?"

Her hands tightened, bunching the fabric of his shirt as she pressed closer, her breath hot against his face. "You think it erases all those years you left me behind? How are you gonna make up for that, Syn?" Tears spilled now, streaking down her cheeks, her voice cracking under the weight of her pain. "Come on, say something, you bastard. Do you even know how much I missed you? Do you have any idea what I went through—what you put me through? You saved me that day, dragged me out of hell, and then you just walked away like it meant nothing. Why'd you even bother if you were gonna abandon me?"

She shook him vigorously, her hands trembling with fury and anguish, her tears falling onto his chest in small, warm drops. Syn's head rocked with each jolt, his mind blank, words failing him as guilt surged up like bile. That day—the rash choices, the chaos he'd fled—flashed behind his eyes, a decision he'd buried deep but never outrun. It had come back to bite him now, in her shaking grip and broken voice, and he could think of nothing to ease it, nothing to erase the hurt he'd sown.

"I don't know why," he murmured, his voice barely audible, thick with regret. "I'm a mess, Aster. You're right here, right in front of me, and I'm still a mess. I don't know why." His admission hung there, raw and unguarded, and she shook him harder, her sobs hitching as she demanded an answer he didn't have.

In that moment, with her pain echoing in the cell's confines, Syn acted on instinct. He leaned forward, closing the scant distance between them, and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss silenced her wails, the cell falling as still as the void outside, the only sound the faint rustle of their breaths mingling. It was soft, tentative, a quiet plea woven into the contact, and Aster stiffened for a heartbeat before her grip on his collar loosened, her hands sliding to rest against his chest.

He pulled back after a lingering moment, his dark eyes searching hers as he whispered, "Aster, I'm so sorry. For every tear, every sleepless night, every scar I left on your heart—I'm sorry from the depths of me. I never meant to hurt you like this." His voice cracked, thick with emotion, his hands hovering near her face, hesitant to touch as if he might break her further. The words carried a weight that begged her to feel them, to know the remorse that gnawed at him now, raw and real.

Aster stared at him, her lips parted, her breath uneven as the tears dried into faint tracks on her cheeks. The sight was jarring—her towering, muscular frame softened by vulnerability, her overdramatic nature laid bare in the quiet aftermath.

It was who she'd always been, a storm of emotion wrapped in strength, and Syn felt the ache of recognition twist in his chest. "Umm... okay," she mumbled, her fingers brushing her lips as if testing the memory of his kiss. "That's it?" Her voice tilted upward, a spark of her usual fire flickering back as she shifted focus, the weight of her grief momentarily overshadowed.

"What?" Syn blinked, caught off guard by the shift.

"That was too short," she said, her tone half-accusing, half-playful, as if the kiss had eclipsed her earlier tirade. "Barely felt it."

"No, it wasn't," he countered, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself. "It was at least twenty seconds."

"No way!" she exclaimed, her voice rising with indignation, her tears forgotten in the sudden flare of drama. "You're lying again, Syn!"

He wasn't, but her spark reignited something in him—a flicker of their old rhythm, a way to soothe her without stoking her anger further. With a quiet sigh, he leaned in once more, kissing her again, this time softer, steadier. Her lips met his with a tentative warmth, but as he started to pull away, her hands shot up, swift and unyielding, clutching his head to hold him there. His fingers danced over hers, tugging lightly to break free, but her strength pinned him, her kiss deepening with a fervor he couldn't resist. She released him only when she chose, her breath ragged as she pulled back, her eyes alight with a triumphant gleam.

"Wow," she breathed, her voice brimming with delight, "that was so much better than our first kiss." She grinned, her hands still resting on his shoulders, her enthusiasm bubbling over. "This time it was like something from a story—my mind went blank, my stomach fluttered, all I could feel was your lips. Dreamy, right?" She tilted her head, her blonde hair spilling over one shoulder as she looked at him expectantly. "You felt it too, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Syn said quickly, nodding with a faint smile, though half his focus had been on prying her hands away during the second half. Her grip had been a vise, her passion a force he'd weathered rather than matched, but he let her have the moment, her joy a balm against the tension.

This content is taken from freёnovelkiss.com.

Their first kiss flickered in his memory—a clumsy, bruising clash from years ago, back when they were teenagers perched on a cliff's edge in the Kingdom's wilds. The night had been chilly, three moons glowing silver above an ecosystem alive with rustling leaves and distant calls. They'd sat there, half-bruised from a skirmish, their breaths visible in the crisp air as they gazed at the shimmering sky. Aster had turned to him, her face flushed from the cold and the fight, and decided it was the perfect moment.

"Syn," she'd said, her voice a nervous trill as she nudged him to look at her.

"Yeah?" he'd replied, turning, his dark eyes catching the moonlight.

Her courage faltered, panic flashing in her gaze, and she'd lunged too fast—her lips crashing into his with a force that split his lip, her teeth clacking against his. Pain flared, and they'd both reeled back, clutching their mouths as blood welled on his lip and hers ached from the impact. "Why? What was that?" Syn had sputtered, wiping the blood away with his sleeve, confusion furrowing his brow as he stared at her.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Aster had wailed, her hands covering her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes, her voice muffled with mortification. She'd bolted upright, fleeing into the woods, her sobs echoing through the trees as Syn sat dumbfounded, the moons above bearing silent witness to their botched first kiss.

That was their first kiss—a collision of intent and innocence, a memory now softened by time and the weight of all that followed.