Alhaitham was the picture of composure, a man of intellect and precision who never acted without purpose. In your relationship, his restraint was almost maddening. He never crossed a line, never stole a kiss or brushed against you by accident. Every move he made was calculated, respectful, and deliberate.

But the day you gave him consent to let go? Alhaitham proved that still waters run deep.

His usually neutral expression shifted the moment you gave the green light. A flicker of surprise passed through his sharp eyes, quickly replaced by something darker, something smoldering.

“Are you certain?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with an undertone of tension. He needed your reassurance, not out of hesitation, but because he respected you too much to assume.

The moment your words of consent left your lips, it was as if a dam had burst. Alhaitham’s hands, always so careful and measured, cupped your face with a quiet intensity. His lips descended on yours, and the sheer passion behind that kiss left you breathless.

Gone was the reserved scholar, replaced by a man who knew exactly what he wanted—and that was you. Every touch was precise, every movement calculated to draw you closer, to claim every bit of your attention. His usual aloofness melted away, revealing a devotion so overwhelming it left you dizzy.

Alhaitham wasn’t just passionate; he was thorough. For a man who spent his life analyzing the world, he now seemed focused entirely on unraveling you. The way his hands traced your skin, the way his voice softened as he whispered your name—it was all-consuming.

Reserved men like Alhaitham might hold back, but when they let go? They make sure you never forget it.