The night sky stretched like velvet, studded with diamonds. Kiara stood at the edge of Aarav's private observatory, her breath catching as the dome opened to reveal a universe she had only seen in movies.
"This is… breath-taking," she whispered, her voice hushed as if afraid to disturb the stars themselves.
Aarav adjusted the telescope, his fingers moving with precision. "They've been here forever," he said softly. "We just forget to look."
Kiara turned to him, her eyes reflecting the starlight. "You never forgot."
He smiled faintly, but there was a shadow in his gaze—a weight she wanted to lift. "Sometimes I wonder if chasing them is worth everything I've lost."
Her heart clenched. "What have you lost?"
He hesitated, then met her eyes. "Time. People. Maybe… chances."
Kiara stepped closer, her heels clicking softly against the metal floor. "Maybe you didn't lose them," she said gently. "Maybe they're still here."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, charged and fragile. Aarav's breath hitched as she reached out, her fingers brushing his sleeve—a touch so light it felt like a question.
"Kiara…" His voice was low, rough, as if her name was something sacred.
She smiled faintly. "You once said you remembered everything. Do you remember… us?"
His gaze darkened, and then—slowly, deliberately—he closed the distance. The warmth of his hand slid over hers, firm and grounding.
"I remember," he murmured, his forehead resting against hers. "Every glance. Every smile. Every time I wished I had the courage."
Her pulse thundered. The stars above blurred as his breath mingled with hers, their lips a whisper apart. For one suspended heartbeat, the world held its breath.
But then Aarav pulled back, his jaw tight, his restraint a blade cutting through the moment. "Kiara… if I kiss you now, I won't be able to stop."
Her voice trembled. "Maybe I don't want you to."
His eyes burned with longing, but he stepped away, turning toward the telescope like a man fleeing his own desire.
Kiara stood frozen, her heart aching with the weight of an almost-kiss—a promise hanging in the starlit air.
And she knew then: this wasn't just attraction. It was gravity, pulling her toward him, no matter how far he tried to run.