After a kiss that felt like both a beginning and an ending, I finally pull back.
My breath is unsteady—I hadn't realized a kiss could steal the air from your lungs like that. My cheeks are burning, a shy, hot flush. Deniz's face is still cradled in my hands, but he's silent, his gaze downcast, his own skin warm and pink under my palms.
My heart is a frantic drum against my ribs. Nervous.
Is he upset?
Does he hate it?
Did I ruin everything?
What do I do now?
I gather every ounce of courage.
"Deniz…" I finally murmur, the name a question and a plea.
He stays silent. Eyes still down. I can't read him, and the not-knowing is a special kind of torture.
God, Neon. You shouldn't have done that. You were greedy.
Selfish....
You took too much.
I drop my gaze, my fingers loosening slightly, shame creeping in.
The weight of my own presumption crushing me. We stand there in the cold night, suspended in a silence that feels like it could shatter everything.
