The entire room seemed suspended in mid-air. There was no sound, no wind, nothing but Sapphire's accelerated breathing and Vergil's uneven heartbeat, still trying to keep up with the speed at which she had pulled him close.
The first touch of her lips was almost an emotional collapse.
There was no warning, no hesitation. Sapphire simply fell upon him like someone who had spent too long holding back their emotions with trembling hands—and now, finally, letting it all out at once.
Vergil didn't even have time to react. Sapphire gripped his shirt with almost desperate force, as if any distance between them was a threat. She pulled him to her, knocking him onto the mansion's sofa with a movement so urgent it seemed her body had decided on its own.
She climbed onto his lap without thinking, without analyzing, without considering the consequences. And then the kiss came—deep, frantic, breathless, as if her heart had spent an entire month trapped in some dark corner begging to be heard.
