Chapter Two: The Pull
344 Words
She told herself she should leave early. The night was already too heavy, too charged, and she feared what might happen if she stayed. But when his hand lingered on hers, when his gaze held her like a tether, she knew leaving was no longer an option.
He didn’t speak much. He didn’t need to. The silence between them was louder than the music, filled with all the things she couldn’t yet admit. Every time his thumb brushed her skin, every time he leaned closer to murmur a simple word, her body betrayed her with a shiver she couldn’t control.
“Walk with me,” he said at last.
It wasn’t a request. And she didn’t resist.
They slipped away from the crowd, into a quieter corner where the sounds of the night softened. The air was cooler here, but it did nothing to settle the heat racing through her veins.
For a long moment, he simply studied her. His eyes roamed her face as if memorizing every detail. It was almost unbearable, the way he looked at her—like he already knew the thoughts she worked so hard to hide.
“You’re not used to this,” he said quietly.
She swallowed. “Used to what?”
“The way it feels. The way it takes you over.” His voice dropped lower. “Like gravity. You can’t fight it.”
Her lips parted, but no answer came. Because he was right. She did feel it. A pull so strong it frightened her, yet she had no will to resist.
When his hand slid gently up her arm, stopping just before her shoulder, she swore her heart would burst from the sheer intensity of it. He hadn’t even kissed her, and already she was trembling as though he had undone her completely.
She forced herself to look up at him, to meet that gaze that never let her go. And in that instant, she realized she wasn’t afraid of what might happen. She was afraid of how badly she wanted it to.
- Writer
