The room was dark, the only sound the rain whispering against the windows—soft, steady, like a secret being told again and again. Between the hush of thunder came slower sounds: sighs, breaths, the faint press of lips.
Their soaked clothes fell away, one layer at a time. They found each other's warmth, tracing familiar maps they'd both memorized in dreams. His hands followed the curve of her back as though confirming she was real; her fingers caught in his hair, pulling him closer until the space between them dissolved.
They moved through the dim apartment—laughing, gasping, stumbling into walls, refusing to let go—until they reached her bedroom. With hearts pounding and breath colliding, they fell to the bed. His kisses came fast and desperate at first, then slower, deeper.
Every touch was a reminder of how much they yearn for each other. He kissed every part of her, each kiss fiery than the next. He sink into her gentle and lovingly. She grasped him harder as she let go of soft sweet moans. Over and over again.
When exhaustion finally tangled with peace, they stayed like that—her head tucked beneath his chin, his arm wrapped around her as if holding the whole world in place. Curtis brushed her damp hair from her face and kissed her forehead. Never again, he promised silently. I'll never lose her again.
Allie woke first, shifting closer, curling herself into him until she could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. She hadn't slept that deeply in years. When she tilted her head, she found his eyes already open, smiling at her through the gray light.
"Why aren't you asleep?" she murmured, voice still thick with dreams.
"I'm afraid if I close my eyes, you'll disappear again." He rubbed his nose against hers, a soft laugh escaping between them.
"That won't happen, silly. You're in my place now." She smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "You're not going anywhere, and neither am I."
He chuckled, finally letting his body relax. She stroked his hair. "Sleep. You didn't get any rest after that flight. I'll still be here when you wake up." He believed her. Within minutes, he drifted off, still holding her hand.
When Allie woke again, the clock read noon. She turned toward him, studying the quiet way he slept, his lashes dark against his skin. She pressed a light kiss to his lips before sinking back beside him. For the first time, the future didn't scare her. Whatever came next, she'd face it with him.
Curtis stirred, eyes fluttering open. He smiled—sleepy, boyish—and she melted. She climbed onto him with a playful grin. "Sleep well?" she teased, peppering his face with kisses. He laughed, catching her around the waist before she could escape.
The rest of the day became a gentle blur of closeness. They showered together, her laughter echoing against the tiles. When she cooked, he refused to leave her side, stealing bites and kisses in equal measure. On the couch they curled together beneath a blanket, watching the rain slide down the window. Every small thing felt sacred.
Allie told him stories—about her first weeks in Tokyo, the endless shifts, the ramen shops she'd fallen in love with, and the neighbor who'd asked her out before becoming her friend. She talked about Jessica, about Rouge, about the chaos and pride of building a new life. Her eyes sparkled when she spoke; she looked alive, free. Curtis listened, entranced, smiling at every detail.
"I missed you so much," he said quietly. "I missed us."
He told her how he'd quit KAIA, started a smaller firm, visited the senior center, and adopted a dog named Milo—because she'd once said he needed someone to come home to.
Allie's eyes softened. She cupped his face. "You see? You did it. You found your peace."
He caught her hand, pressing a kiss into her palm. "I'll never get over you," he whispered. "You became my world."
Tears welled up. She sat back, voice trembling but clear. "Kit… I'm happy you found me. I'm thankful you still love me. But I need to be honest. I don't know if this—what we have right now—can last the way it used to. I've worked hard for this life here. I can't just walk away from it. Our future won't look like our past."
He met her gaze without flinching. "Allie, I didn't come here to take you away. I came to tell you I love you. If your happiness is here, then this is where I'll stand behind you. I meant what I said—I'll be whatever you need me to be, for as long as you'll have me."
Her tears spilled over, and she pulled him close, burying her face in his shoulder. "You're shaking my resolve," she whispered.
He laughed softly against her hair. "My love isn't supposed to stop you. It's supposed to give you courage. Don't worry—we'll make it work."
He didn't say he wasn't afraid. He was. The thought of the ocean between them, the months apart—it terrified him. But losing her again would be worse.
Allie took a week off work. They filled every hour together like it was borrowed time—morning coffees under blooming cherry blossoms, temple visits, late-night convenience-store snacks, ramen in street markets, quiet walks along the river. Every ordinary thing became a memory they'd keep alive for when distance returned.
At night, they fell asleep tangled intimately together, whispering stories until the city went quiet.
When his departure day came, they stood together at the airport gate. The world around them was a blur of announcements and rolling suitcases.
They kissed—slow, aching, unwilling to end. His forehead rested against hers as he whispered, "I'll miss you so much. Call me, and I'll fly back anytime. I already miss you."
She smiled through tears, rubbing his arm. "Go, Kit. Go live your life. I'll be right here when you come back."
He nodded, pressing one last kiss to her forehead—long, tender, final. Then he turned toward the gate.
Allie watched him until he disappeared from sight, her heart full and breaking all at once.
Outside, the spring rain had stopped, but the world still shimmered as if the clouds themselves were rooting for them—two souls learning, at last, that love doesn't end when you let it breathe.