Amir stood there—half in shadow, half in the soft glow of the clinic lights—breathing a little too hard. Yuna could see the battle in his eyes, the push and pull between retreat and surrender. He was a man built on control, on walls so thick no one had ever dared to climb them.
Yet here he was, unraveling in front of her.
“You shouldn’t care this much,” he murmured.
Yuna stepped closer. “And you shouldn’t bleed on my floor. Yet here you are.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t hide the tension beneath. “You think everything is simple. You don’t know the danger I carry.”
“Then tell me,” she whispered.
“I can’t.”
“Then stay,” she said. “Just… stay tonight.”
He closed his eyes briefly, as if the word stay hit somewhere deep inside him. When he opened them again, the softness was gone—replaced by something darker, something hungry.
“Yuna,” he warned, his voice low. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand enough,” she whispered. “You’re hurt, you’re exhausted, and you’re… trying too hard not to feel anything.”
His chest rose sharply. “You make it difficult.”
“Then stop fighting.”
Silence stretched between them, electric, trembling. Yuna moved closer, her hand brushing against his arm—barely a touch, but enough to make him inhale sharply, like he’d been starved for warmth.
He caught her wrist gently. Not restraining. Just holding.
“Yuna,” he said again, but this time her name sounded different—deeper, rougher, like a confession.
Her eyes lifted to meet his. His gaze dropped to her lips. Slowly. As if he was giving her time to pull away.
She didn’t.
He stepped forward, closing the last inches between them. His forehead touched hers, breath mingling with hers. Every part of him felt tense, held together only by the thin thread of control he was about to lose.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.
“I won’t.”
The moment the words left her mouth, something inside him snapped. His hand slid to the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair as he drew her toward him.
His lips met hers—slow at first, soft but burning, like he was memorizing the shape of her mouth. Then the kiss deepened, all restrained hunger and forbidden longing. He kissed her like a man who hadn’t touched warmth in years, like he was tasting something he’d convinced himself he didn’t deserve.
Yuna’s hands pressed lightly against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under her palms—fast, powerful, alive. He groaned softly against her lips, the sound low enough to curl heat in her stomach.
He pulled her closer, his body warm and solid against hers despite his injury. Every inch of him felt like danger. And safety. And something she wasn’t sure she should want—but couldn’t deny.
When he finally broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers, breathing hard.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered.
“Then why did you?”
His thumb brushed her lower lip, his expression torn and dark with desire he couldn’t hide anymore.
“Because,” he murmured, voice rough, “I can’t stay away from you… no matter how dangerous it is.”
Yuna’s heart hammered.
For the first time, Amir wasn’t hiding.
And for the first time, Khalid—the man behind the lies—let himself feel.
To be Continued…..
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