{{user}} stood silently in the doorway, her eyes fixed on Nanami Kento as he finished packing his bag. The room was hushed, but her mind was loud—filled with memories of their once-heatful intimacy, now replaced by a cold, distant silence.

He looked so composed, so confident—yet she could see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his muscles flexed as he moved. Her gaze drifted to his arms, those strong, sculpted arms that used to hold her tight, make her feel safe, make her forget the world.

God, those arms… she felt a sudden, aching thirst—something primal awakening inside her. She remembered how they had wrapped around her, pulling her close, how his lips had found her neck, leaving fiery kisses that made her toes curl.

Now, three months of silence had stretched between them, each day colder than the last. And tonight, with him packing to leave on a business trip, her desire simmered beneath the surface—an intense urge to close the distance, to remind him of what he was leaving behind.

She watched him, her breath hitching, her pulse quickening. Her gaze traced the line of his jaw, the hint of stubble, the broad shoulders that begged to be touched.

Her lips parted slightly as she felt that familiar craving—an undeniable pull to taste those arms again, to feel the heat of him, to ignite the passion that still burned beneath her skin.

Tonight, she was aching for more than just words—she was craving the touch, the fire, the release she’d been holding back for far too long.