"I kissed her. And now I can't stop wanting more."— Elias
I want more than that kiss. A lot more.
Elias
I shouldn't have kissed her.
Not even on the forehead.
It was barely a second. A whisper of contact.
The softest touch I could manage without crossing the line.
But it still crossed something.
Because now I couldn't stop thinking about it.
Her skin.
Her breath.
The way she blinked up at me like I'd just rewired her whole world.
And mine.
I sat on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, replaying the moment like a man torturing himself on purpose.
She didn't pull away.
She leaned into it.
She wanted it.
But that didn't make it safe.
Didn't make it okay.
Didn't mean I had any right.
I ran both hands through my hair. Stared at the floor like it might know what to do.
This wasn't some passing crush.
Wasn't lust.
Wasn't confusion.
I wanted her.
Not just her body.
Her laugh.
Her stubbornness.
The way she wore that damn necklace every day like it meant something sacred.
It did mean something.
I gave it to her.
I gave her everything.
I looked at my phone again.
Nothing.
No new message.
No "goodnight."
No "thanks for today."
And that was fine. I told her to text me when she got home, and she did.
That was enough.
Except it wasn't.
I wanted more.
I wanted her to say she felt it too.
That it wasn't just me.
That I hadn't imagined the shift in the air when I touched her.
I typed out five different messages.
Deleted all of them.
I couldn't push.
I wouldn't push.
Not with her.
But if she came back—
If she gave me even the smallest sign—
I'd stop pretending I didn't want this.
Didn't want her.
Because this time?
This wasn't about guilt. Or obligation. Or protecting what was broken.
This was want.
Real. Steady. Blinding.
And I was done running from it.
So I picked up my phone.
Typed one more message.
Didn't delete it this time.
Dinner, Friday? Just us.
💬 Should Elias be the one to make the next move—or wait for Liana to come to him?
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🖤 Don't miss what happens when the line between protection and desire finally breaks.
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