Chapter 10
1452 Words
The Bali sun was different.
It didn’t just warm the skin—it seeped into the bones, coaxing out everything Tori had tried to keep buried.
She stood barefoot on the terrace of her retreat villa, the sky melting into molten gold over the horizon. Her fingers toyed with the silver crescent moon pendant, its cool weight pressing against her chest like an unanswered question.
Twenty-seven days.
Twenty-seven days of teaching, of guiding strangers through shadow work and moon rituals, of dancing barefoot until she forgot her name. She had laughed more than she expected. She had cried more too.
But every night, she came back to one thing—
Vios.
Not just the heat of him. Not just his hands or his mouth. But his stillness. His way of seeing her like she wasn’t a collection of cosmic metaphors, but a woman who took up space.
Her phone buzzed on the railing.
> Garage’s quiet. Vios is quieter. You coming back soon? — Wigo
She smiled, a sad, twisted thing, and typed nothing back. Not yet.
That night, she sat cross-legged on the beach, hair tangled from the salt air, tarot cards spread across the sand like pieces of herself.
The Lovers.
The Chariot.
The Moon.
Choice. Movement. Mystery.
She pressed them to her heart and whispered into the waves,
“I’m ready.”
---
The garage smelled like home.
Grease. Metal. Rain-soaked concrete.
He was under a car when she stepped in, his legs sticking out, music humming low from the speaker. Her heart clenched.
She didn’t announce herself right away—just stood there, letting the sight of him fill the hollow space inside her.
“Vios?”
He slid out from beneath the car. His shirt was stained, his hands dirty, but when he saw her, everything in him went still.
“Tori.”
Her breath caught.
“I didn’t come back for the job. Or the city,” she said.
“Then why?”
She stepped closer, heart pounding.
“I came back for you.”
For a second, the whole garage held its breath. Then Vios dropped the rag and crossed the space between them, kissing her like he’d been waiting a lifetime.
It was rough, hungry, a clash of teeth and breath. She grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him closer until she could feel the beat of his heart against hers.
When they finally broke apart, gasping, he pressed his forehead to hers.
“Are you staying?”
“I’m choosing,” she whispered, voice trembling. “And today, I choose you.”
He kissed her again, slower this time, like he wanted to memorize her mouth.
---
Later, they ended up in the kitchen, sitting on the sink the way they had that first night.
But this time, there was no hesitation.
Vios stood between her knees, his hands on her thighs, kissing her until she arched forward, clutching his jaw like she was afraid he’d disappear if she let go.
The kisses deepened, turned molten. His fingers slid up to her hips, gripping her like he needed to keep her anchored.
“Tori…” he said against her lips, his voice breaking just slightly.
She cupped his face. “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t.
He kissed her again, harder, until she was dizzy. When he finally pulled back, it was only to lift her off the counter, carrying her down the hall with his mouth still on hers.
---
In his room, the air felt charged, like the moment before a storm breaks.
He set her down gently, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
She shook her head, smiling through the tears she hadn’t realized were falling. “I want you to keep going.”
What happened next was slow, almost reverent.
They undressed each other like it was a ritual, every piece of clothing falling to the floor like shedding the last twenty-seven days of longing. His hands were sure but gentle, tracing her skin as though memorizing a map he never wanted to forget.
Their kisses turned soft, then fierce again, their breaths mingling as he laid her back against the sheets.
For a moment, they just looked at each other — no words, just heartbeats syncing.
When they finally came together, it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t just about hunger. It was about everything they’d been holding back: the fear, the hope, the choice.
It was slow, deep, grounding — like coming home.
---
After, they lay tangled in the sheets, his fingers brushing lazy circles on her back.
“I missed you,” he murmured against her hair.
“I missed myself,” she replied, kissing the line of his jaw. “But I found her again. And she still wants you.”
He smiled, kissed her forehead, and pulled her closer until there was no space left between them.
This time, the world didn’t fade. It sharpened — every detail, every heartbeat, every promise between them.
They weren’t perfect.
But they were real.
And that was enough.
---
The first thing Tori noticed was the sunlight.
It streamed through the half-open blinds, turning the room into a wash of gold. The second thing she noticed was the weight of Vios’s arm draped over her waist, warm and heavy, like an anchor keeping her exactly where she wanted to be.
For a moment, she just lay there, letting herself breathe him in — the faint smell of motor oil clinging to his skin, mixed with the clean scent of last night’s shower. His chest rose and fell steadily against her back.
Safe.
Steady.
Home.
She turned slowly, careful not to wake him, and propped her head on her hand.
He looked softer in sleep. The sharp edges of his jaw relaxed, the constant focus in his brows smoothed out. She brushed a strand of hair off his forehead before she could stop herself.
His eyes cracked open. “You’re staring.”
She flushed, caught. “You look less scary when you’re asleep.”
He smirked, voice still gravelly. “Good morning to you too.”
Tori laughed, the sound surprisingly light after last night’s intensity. “I didn’t think you were the type to smirk before coffee.”
He rolled onto his back, stretching lazily. “You’d be surprised what I’m capable of before coffee.”
She swatted his arm, but he caught her hand, pulling her down until she was half sprawled across his chest.
“Stay like this for a minute,” he murmured.
She did. Just listening to his heartbeat, feeling the quiet between them settle into something comfortable instead of tense.
After a while, her stomach growled — loud enough that he laughed.
“I was going to make coffee,” he said. “Maybe breakfast too, if you play your cards right.”
She raised a brow. “Play my cards right? You do remember who the tarot reader is here, right?”
He grinned, leaning up to kiss her quickly, a soft, teasing press of lips that still made her toes curl. “Then you should know I’m already planning to cook. You just have to sit there and look pretty.”
---
In the kitchen, Tori sat on the counter again — a familiar position — while Vios moved around barefoot, rummaging through cabinets. The domesticity of it all felt surreal.
“You cook?” she teased as he cracked eggs into a pan.
“Better than you,” he shot back. “Last time you tried, the smoke alarm filed a restraining order.”
She gasped in mock offense. “That was one time!”
“That was three times,” he corrected, glancing back at her with a smirk.
She tossed a dish towel at him, which he caught without looking. “You’re insufferable.”
“You still came back,” he said simply.
That shut her up — in the best way.
When breakfast was done, he handed her a mug of coffee, the crescent moon pendant glinting against her collarbone as she accepted it.
“You know,” she said softly, staring into the steam, “I was afraid it wouldn’t feel the same when I came back.”
Vios leaned on the counter beside her. “Does it?”
She turned, met his eyes, and smiled — the kind that reached all the way to her chest.
“No,” she admitted. “It feels better.”
He kissed her again, slow and sure, and for the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel like a question mark.
It felt like a beginning.
- Writer
