THIS IS WHAT MARMALADE TASTES LIKE

Aira’s POV The world felt softer at this hour — as though time itself had paused to breathe. The night was unusually still — the kind of stillness that felt like a secret waiting to be told. I climbed the creaky stairs slowly, each step echoing with nerves I didn’t quite understand. Above me, the sky was ink-blue, brushed with stardust and quiet. And there he was — already there. I stopped in the doorway, watching him tune the strings, his brows furrowed in thought. The breeze tugged at my sleeves, but it wasn’t the wind that made me shiver. The rooftop, worn and familiar, welcomed me like an old secret. Above us, the moon poured its silver light across cracked tiles, casting gentle shadows that swayed with the breeze. The cool air kissed my cheeks, but it was not the cold that made my heart tremble. He sat with his back resting lightly against the railing, his guitar balanced effortlessly on his knee. His fingers traced the strings with a tenderness that felt almost intimate, as though each note was meant only for me. The melody floated into the night air — warm, delicate — speaking words neither of us had yet dared to say aloud. He didn’t look at me at first, but the faint curve on his lips told me he knew I was there. That quiet smile always did things to me — small things that grew heavier in my chest with every passing night. The music wrapped itself around us, as if the rooftop had transformed into our own small universe, untouched by the world below. Each chord he played felt like a heartbeat, steady and careful, like he was afraid any wrong note would expose something hidden. I stood there a moment longer, watching him, wondering — did he know? Could he feel the weight of my unsaid words? The late-night wishes I whispered when no one was listening? Then, softly, his voice cut through the melody. “You’re here,” he said, softly as if he hadn’t been sure I’d come. “You okay?” he asked, finally lifting his gaze to meet mine. His eyes—gentle, searching—always made it harder to breathe. I nodded, offering a fragile smile. “Yeah,” I whispered. “Just… listening.” He chuckled quietly, lowering his head again. “Good. I was hoping you’d hear this one.” I didn’t ask what he meant, though part of me desperately wanted to. He smiled — not the playful kind I usually saw, but something gentler, quieter. “Sit,” he said. “Just listen.” And then, as the melody shifted, something changed. The notes slowed, drawing me closer like invisible threads. He set his guitar aside and stood, his hand reaching toward me. “Come,” he said softly. “Dance with me.” For a moment, I froze — heart pounding against my ribs like wild drums. The world around us faded, leaving only him, his outstretched hand, and the fragile distance between us. My breath caught. “Here?” I asked, surprised. He chuckled under his breath. “There’s no one watching.” I placed my hand in his — slowly, like stepping into a dream. Our steps were small at first, barely swaying beneath the moonlight, as though afraid that too much movement might shatter the quiet magic around us. But slowly, I allowed myself to melt into the rhythm, letting him guide me through the silent music only we could hear. We danced — no music now, just the echo of the melody still lingering in the air. Our steps were awkward, unsure… but our hearts moved like they already knew this rhythm. The night was cold, but in his arms, I felt nothing but warmth. And at that moment, I wasn’t afraid of anything. Not the silence. Not the closeness. Not even the truth I’d hidden for so long. Instead, I let his melody fill the silence again, letting the notes say all the words we were both too scared to speak. And for now, that was enough. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Rayyan’s POV The night air was colder than I expected. The breeze slipped beneath my jacket, but I barely noticed. My fingers hovered over the strings of the guitar, as if waiting for permission to begin. Tonight mattered. I had played for her many times before — countless nights under this same moon, sharing melodies that filled the spaces our words couldn't. But tonight was different. Tonight, I had written something meant only for her. Every note carried pieces of the feelings I had buried for far too long. As the first chord rang softly into the quiet sky, my heart stumbled. Would she hear it? Would she understand what I was trying to say without saying it? And then, like she always did, she appeared. Aira. The moonlight kissed her face gently as she stepped onto the rooftop, her eyes reflecting the soft glow above. She stood there for a moment, watching, listening. I caught the way her fingers played with the hem of her sleeve — a small nervous habit I had memorized over the years. I pretended not to notice, letting the melody wrap around us like an invisible thread pulling her closer. Every note was a silent confession, every pause a held breath. I didn’t dare look up at first. My hands needed the safety of focus. The music steadied me, but my mind was racing with questions. Does she know? Can she feel it? Will I ruin everything if I let it show? The song shifted — softer, more vulnerable. I couldn’t hold the distance any longer. My eyes lifted, searching for hers. “You’re here,” I said softly, my voice betraying the small fear that she might not have come. “You okay?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended. She smiled — that small, delicate smile that always undid me. “Yeah,” she whispered, “just… listening.” My heart tightened. If only she knew how long I had waited for her to truly hear me. I smiled faintly and looked back down, afraid my gaze might give away too much. “Good. I was hoping you’d hear this one.” “Sit,” I offered, gesturing beside me. “Just listen.” The words hung between us, light but heavy with meaning. As the final chords softened into the night, I knew I couldn’t leave it there. My courage was thin, but present. I set the guitar aside, my pulse racing. I stood, reaching out my hand toward her — hoping, praying — that she would take it. “Come,” I whispered, “dance with me.” For a moment, she hesitated for a second, her voice soft. “Here?” she asked, almost surprised. I chuckled quietly, heart aching at how effortlessly she could disarm me with such a simple question. “There’s no one watching,” I reassured, though part of me wished someone was — just to witness this fragile, perfect moment. And then — her hand found mine. Under the silent gaze of the moon, I pulled her gently into the space between us. The rhythm was barely there — a slow, quiet sway — but it was enough. Enough to feel her heartbeat close to mine. Enough to let her know, even without words, that I had fallen long ago. Tonight, I was no longer afraid of the silence. Because at that moment, the silence was finally full of hope. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Aira’s POV  The world had shrunk into this tiny rooftop. It was just the two of us, swaying under the pale glow of the moon, as if even the stars were holding their breath. Rayyan's hand was warm against mine, his touch steady yet gentle. His other hand rested lightly at my waist, fingertips barely grazing the fabric of my sweater — and yet it was enough to send a quiet ripple beneath my skin. I couldn’t meet his eyes for too long. Every time I did, my chest tightened, as though the weight of everything unspoken threatened to rise. His gaze held something different tonight — not playful, not teasing. It was raw. Unshielded. We moved in slow circles, our steps small and careful, like we were afraid to break the spell hanging in the air. The melody in my mind had long faded, yet somehow, the silence was louder. His thumb brushed lightly over my hand, tracing soft, slow patterns that made it almost impossible to focus on anything else. And then — as if drawn by some quiet pull between us — I felt his breath brush softly against my forehead. So close. My heart stuttered. I glanced up. His eyes were already waiting for mine. Neither of us spoke. The air between us grew warmer despite the night chill, the distance between our faces closing without either of us making a conscious move. My pulse thundered beneath my ribs. Rayyan exhaled slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve wanted to hold you like this for a long time.” The confession floated in the air, delicate as glass. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Then why didn’t you?” I whispered back, surprising myself with the boldness in my voice. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes, but it was quickly softened by something deeper — something tender. “Because once I start…” he murmured, his forehead gently resting against mine, “I’m not sure if I want to stop.” My breath hitched. His words settled into my chest like embers, warm and dangerous. The space between us disappeared entirely. His hand slid carefully up my back, resting between my shoulder blades, while my own fingers curled slightly into the fabric of his shirt. The beat of his heart pulsed under my palm — steady but strong. The world outside this rooftop no longer existed. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me. His lips hovered close — just close enough that I could feel the faint warmth of his breath ghosting over mine. My eyes fluttered shut instinctively, my heart pounding so fiercely I was sure he could hear it. But instead, he paused. Lingering. Teasing. Testing the fragile line we were now standing on. When I finally opened my eyes, he was watching me again, his expression torn between restraint and desire. “Aira,” he breathed, voice almost trembling, “if I cross this line… I won’t pretend anymore.” I stared at him, pulse thundering, unable to speak. My body answered for me — leaning in just slightly, enough to close the distance. And then, finally, his lips met mine. Soft. Cautious. As if both of us were still unsure if this was real. But it was. The kiss deepened gradually, slow and warm, like the gentle unfolding of something long-awaited. His hand cupped the side of my face, thumb brushing my cheek with delicate care. I felt my fingers tighten slightly against his chest, grounding myself to the moment. There was no rush. No urgency. Only us, under the moonlight, surrendering to everything we had quietly longed for. When we finally pulled away, barely inches apart, I could see the vulnerability swimming in his gaze — but also relief. The silent question that had hovered between us for so long had finally been answered. He rested his forehead against mine once again, breathing deeply as though committing the moment to memory. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he whispered. “I’ve been here,” I whispered back, my voice shaking, “waiting too.” And just like that, under the moon’s silent witness, something shifted between us. Something that could no longer be undone. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Rayyan’s POV "I’ve been here... waiting too." Her voice trembled, but her eyes held mine without flinching. That simple confession slammed into me like a quiet storm, stealing the air from my lungs. I felt my chest tighten as I stared down at her — at the way her lips quivered ever so slightly after her words, at the way her cheeks flushed under the silver glow of the moon. God, she had no idea what she was doing to me. The distance between us was nothing now — our bodies pressed gently together, her warmth seeping through my skin, setting my nerves alight. My hand still cupped her cheek, thumb tracing her soft skin, while my other arm remained locked around her waist, holding her there — right where I had always wanted her. I could feel her heartbeat against me, rapid, wild — like mine. My voice came out lower, raspier than I intended. "Aira..." She looked up at me with those wide, soft eyes — trusting, open, pulling me deeper into her without saying a word. My restraint was burning thin. My heart was screaming for more — not just the stolen kiss, not just the gentle touch — but everything. I wanted to memorize every inch of her, to explore all the spaces between us that had remained untouched for too long. But I had to control it. I had to slow down. "You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hold you like this," I whispered, my breath warm against her lips. "And now that you're here, I..." I trailed off, afraid my hunger might show too clearly. My fingers slipped from her cheek to the back of her neck, gently tangling her hair. Her skin was warm beneath my touch, sending sparks down my spine. Her breath hitched. She felt it too. She bit her lower lip — barely — and that tiny, unconscious gesture nearly undid me. A soft, teasing smile played at the corner of her mouth, as if daring me to take the next step. I leaned in slightly, my lips grazing hers — not quite kissing, but close enough to make her shiver against me. "Rayyan..." she whispered, her voice breathless, fragile. Her saying my name like that — soft, barely audible — sent a heat curling low in my stomach. I pressed my forehead against hers again, trying to ground myself, but my body was buzzing with tension. Her hands clutched my shirt tighter, pulling me even closer, leaving no space between us now. I could feel her chest rise and fall against mine, our hearts pounding an unspoken rhythm together. I closed my eyes briefly, exhaling sharply. "You have no idea what you do to me," I breathed. My fingers moved gently along her waist, tracing the curve of her silhouette beneath the thin fabric. Every touch was a silent promise, every breath a dangerous edge. I opened my eyes, finding hers again — her gaze darkened with the same desire I was barely holding back. "I won’t hurt you," I whispered, voice low, "but I can’t pretend anymore." And this time, when I kissed her again — it wasn’t tentative. It was deeper, slower, but filled with the fire we had both been holding back for far too long. She melted into me, her lips parting slightly, inviting me further into the space we had both been too scared to cross. Her fingers slipped into my hair, pulling me closer, and I couldn’t stop the quiet growl that escaped my throat. The rooftop disappeared. The city disappeared. Only her. Only us. Her breath mingled with mine as we finally parted, but I didn’t move far. My lips hovered near her ear, my voice low, intimate. "You’re mine now," I whispered, my pulse roaring, "if you’ll have me. No, you’re mine even if you don’t want me. You stuck with me forever now and, yeah, I’m selfish for my love." She nodded softly, her lips brushing my jaw. "I’ve always been yours." And just like that — under the moonlit sky, I knew I was lost. Completely. Beautifully. Irrevocably lost in her. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Aira’s POV Without realizing it, we were in my room. I wasn’t even sure how we got here — whether we walked or floated — but his hand had never once left mine. It was as though my body moved on its own, following the pull of his touch, the weight of his gaze. The door closed softly behind us, muffling the outside world. Now, it was only us — only the two hearts that had finally dared to collide. The kiss that started slow, deep, and fragile — heavy with months of silent emotions — was no longer gentle. It shifted into something rawer, more desperate, like a dam had broken inside us both. We were starving. Starving for everything we had kept at arm’s length for far too long. Rayyan’s hands gripped my waist firmly now, pulling me flush against him, his breath hot against my lips as his kisses deepened — tasting, exploring, claiming. My fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on, feeling the quiet growl vibrating in his throat that made my knees weak. Every touch sets my skin ablaze. Every breath we shared felt like fire and oxygen tangled together. "Aira..." he whispered between kisses, voice low, almost trembling — like he was holding back a storm. The way he said my name was sinful, reverent. It made my heart race, made my stomach tighten with butterflies that spun wildly inside me. His lips trailed down to my jawline, then lower to my neck, planting slow, burning kisses that made me arch slightly into him. My hands clutched his shirt desperately, anchoring myself while my pulse thundered louder than my thoughts. The world outside didn’t exist anymore. There was only the heat of his touch, the electricity of his breath on my skin, the way his hands roamed with such tenderness but also hunger — like he was memorizing every inch of me he had been forbidden to touch before. My breath caught as he whispered softly into my ear, voice rough, "Tell me if I need to stop." His restraint made my chest tighten even more — the fact that even here, with his control slowly slipping, he still placed my comfort above everything else. I shook my head, breathless, unable to form proper words. "Don’t." My voice came out softer, but full of all the permission he needed. He exhaled shakily — like hearing that both relieved him and drove him deeper into the fire. Our lips met again, hotter this time — desperate to close any gap that still remained. His hands slid under the hem of my sweater, his touch warm against my bare skin, sending shivers across my body. The quiet tension between us now burned like an unspoken promise. It wasn’t just about desire. It was about all the emotions we had swallowed for so long finally bursting free — messy, raw, beautiful. And as his forehead rested against mine once more, both of us breathing heavily, I could feel it in his trembling voice: "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this..." "Me too," I whispered, my voice shaking, "I’ve wanted you for so long, Rayyan." And as the words left my lips, something shifted in his eyes. The restraint he’d been clinging to loosened, like he finally allowed himself to want — fully, completely — without fear. His hand slid higher along my waist, warm fingertips skimming the curves of my ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Every inch he touched made me melt further against him, my chest pressing softly into his as our breathing tangled. Rayyan’s lips hovered dangerously close again, teasing, brushing against mine but never fully closing the gap — as though testing how much I could take. My fingers curled into the back of his neck, pulling him back into another kiss — deeper this time, more urgent. Our mouths moved together in a rhythm that had long been waiting to be discovered. God, he tastes like home. His hands traveled slowly, reverently, sliding beneath the fabric of my sweater, palms splaying across my bare waist. My skin burned under his touch, my heart hammering wildly as his thumbs traced soft circles along my sides. I gasped softly against his lips when he suddenly lifted me gently, guiding me backward until my back met the cool surface of the wall behind us. The contact sent a sharp contrast of heat and cold through my body, making my breath hitch once more. "Aira..." he whispered again — almost like a plea, like a confession — his voice rough and low against my ear, sending a delicious shiver through me. The way he said my name — so full of hunger, reverence, and something dangerously close to worship — made my legs feel weak beneath me. My hands roamed under the fabric of his shirt now, feeling the firm muscles beneath my fingertips, desperate to feel more of him. He leaned in closer, lips skimming down my jawline to the sensitive spot behind my ear, and I couldn’t stop the soft gasp or maybe a moan that I don’t know what escaped me. Because everything about him are never be sane for me. "You’re driving me insane," he murmured, breath hot against my skin. I could only clutch him tighter, as if he could already read my mind, overwhelmed by the fire building between us. Every touch, every breath, every heartbeat felt heavier — like we were standing at the edge of something deeper, something that had waited far too long. His hand slid upward, fingertips brushing along the delicate curve beneath my chest, but he paused, holding himself back with trembling control. I could feel the tension vibrating through him — the war between his desire and his respect for my boundaries. I whispered breathlessly, trying to steady my voice, "Don’t stop." That was all he needed. His lips found mine again, hungrier, deeper, pulling me fully into him as though he wanted to memorize my very soul. His hands also began to explore my body more boldly, without the hesitation from before, as though he wanted to study and memorize every curve of my body. The room spun around us, lost in the heat we had surrendered to — and I let myself fall completely, knowing I was safe here. Knowing I was safe here. With him. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Rayyan’s POV Ahhh... I really couldn’t control myself anymore. I had already warned her. I told her I was on the edge. But even after she had given me permission, a part of me still hesitated. My body burned with the need to claim her fully, but my mind was screaming caution — afraid that if I went too far, it might seem as if I only desired her body. But that wasn’t it. It was never just that. She was everything. Yet, my body trembled against my restraint — like my instincts had long mastered the art of wanting her. I felt her fingers caress my cheek gently, grounding me for the moment. “Rayyan, don’t be scared,” she whispered softly. “I really want you... like you want me right now.” Her voice melted into my veins like liquid fire. God... she could feel my hesitation. She could see right through me. Her honesty undid the last thread of my control. My eyes met hers, wide and warm, shining under the soft glow of the room. My breath shook as I leaned in, capturing her lips once again, this time with no more hesitation, no more holding back. I slid my hands beneath her sweater fully now, lifting the soft fabric gently over her head, revealing her delicate skin to me. She let out a small breath as I tossed it aside, my gaze falling upon the bare beauty in front of me. "You're so beautiful, Aira," I whispered, my voice hoarse with emotion. Her cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling with each breath as my fingertips traced the smooth curve of her waist, up to the softness of her ribs, memorizing every inch of her skin like fragile art only meant for my eyes. I felt her hands tug at my shirt, wordlessly asking. I let her pull it over my head, discarding it somewhere behind us. Her warm hands explored my chest, sending sharp shivers racing up my spine. We stumbled back slowly toward the edge of her bed, lips locked, breaths tangled, hands exploring. Every step backward was like descending deeper into the fire that had long been simmering between us. Her knees hit the edge of the bed first, and I followed, guiding her gently down as I hovered above her. The sight of her lying beneath me, looking up with complete trust and longing, made my heart swell painfully inside my chest. “Are you sure?” I asked again, my voice nothing but a husky whisper. She reached up, cupping my face with both hands, pulling me closer. “Yes... I want all of you, Rayyan.” And with those words, I surrendered. I lowered my lips to her neck, kissing the sensitive skin there, feeling her arch beneath me as soft sighs escaped her lips. My hands roamed across her body, learning her, worshiping her, as if every touch was a silent vow. The rest of our clothes found their way to the floor in a slow, feverish blur — a mixture of soft gasps, quiet moans, whispered names and breathless laughter. We moved together in rhythm, not rushed but deliberate — like two souls finally colliding after too long apart. Her fingers tangled in my hair, her nails grazing lightly along my back, pulling me deeper into her warmth. The world spun into nothing but heat, softness, and whispered promises. Our bodies fit perfectly together, like we were always meant to find one another this way — not out of lust, but out of love that had been blooming beneath the surface for so long. Every kiss, every slow thrust, every tightening grip of her hands on my shoulders made the air between us feel electric. We whispered each other's names like prayers as waves of pleasure and emotion crashed over us again and again. Every breath we took was heavy with unspoken devotion, every soft moan a silent confession of everything we’d been too afraid to say until now. Her hands clutched me tighter as I leaned closer, my lips brushing against her ear as I whispered, “I’ve wanted this for so long.” She gasped softly, her voice trembling under me as she replied breathlessly, “You have all of me, Rayyan… you always have.” And with that, we both surrendered completely — not just to the passion between us, but to the love that had always quietly bloomed beneath it. Time no longer existed. Only us — lost in the depths of something far greater than either of us had ever dared to imagine. And when finally, we collapsed together, breathless, tangled in each other’s arms beneath the soft sheets, I pulled her into my chest, holding her as close as possible. Our hearts still raced, but our breaths slowly steadied. I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, feeling her body melt into mine like she belonged there — like she always had. "I love you," I whispered into the quiet. She lifted her head slightly, her eyes half-closed from exhaustion, yet glowing with a soft smile. "I love you too, Rayyan," she whispered back, nuzzling into my neck. We lay there, wrapped in the warmth of each other, her fingers softly drawing circles on my chest. The world outside faded entirely as sleep gently pulled us under, still locked in each other’s embrace. That night, I fell asleep with her heartbeat against mine — knowing that for the first time, we truly belonged to each other. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Some songs are never sung aloud — only felt between two trembling hearts.” __________________________________________________________________________________________________________