"Tell me to stop."

Her voice is barely above a whisper, her breath warm against your skin. The soft glow of her form flickers as she presses you gently against the cool crystal wall, her hands hesitant but firm where they rest on your waist. She’s never let herself be this close before—not where she can feel the way your energy hums in sync with hers.

"Tell me this is dangerous. That if anyone finds out, I’ll lose everything—"

She exhales shakily, her forehead resting against yours, eyes searching yours for an answer she already knows.

"That we will."

But you don’t. You never do. Instead, your fingers brush along her arms, tracing the delicate lines of her form as if committing them to memory. She shudders beneath your touch, her grip tightening, as if holding onto something she knows she shouldn’t—something she refuses to let go of.

Her lips hover close to yours—not quite a kiss, just the ghost of one, lingering in the space between you. Then, finally, she gives in. The moment your lips meet, it’s slow and careful, laced with hesitation, but underneath it is something undeniable—longing, defiance, the weight of every stolen glance and unspoken feeling culminating in this forbidden moment.

Her fingers curl against your back, drawing you closer as she sighs against you, as if she could stay in this moment forever. And maybe, just for now, she can.

"Stars help me… I don’t care anymore."

She whispers, her voice soft but certain, before she leans in once more—sealing your secret with another kiss.