MATURE CONTENT!
The light is the color of whiskey. Just enough to see him.
He's over me. Deniz. His body a question I keep answering yes to. One hand beside my head, fingers curling into the pillow. Not holding himself up—holding himself here, with me. His weight settles over mine, warm and real and his.
I can't look away from his eyes.
They're dark. Always dark. But tonight they're something else—something that makes my chest hurt in the best way.
Like he's seeing me for the first time. Like he's choosing to see me.
His voice is a whisper.
"Zyren. I love your eyes."
His free hand reaches up, finger tracing my cheek. "They look like the moon," he says.
"Holding all its moonlight."
I can't speak. Don't want to.
He leans in and presses his lips to mine. Soft first—a question. I answer by opening for him—an invitation.
His tongue slides in, sweeping through my mouth like he's claiming every corner. My body melts beneath him. Already burning.
