The door clicked shut behind me, the soft sound echoing in the quiet apartment. She was already walking ahead, slipping off her shoes and shrugging her jacket onto the hook by the wall. She looked radiant, her hair slightly tousled, her cheeks still flushed from the chilly air outside.
She turned to me, smiling softly. “Do you want tea or—”
Before she could finish, I closed the distance between us in two quick steps. My hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, and my other hand tilted her chin up gently. Her eyes widened, surprised, but before she could ask, I kissed her deeply, urgently, with a hunger I couldn’t contain.
She froze for the briefest moment before melting into me, her hands instinctively gripping my arms as I pressed her against the wall. My lips moved against hers, tasting her, claiming her, pouring all the words I couldn’t say into that kiss. Her breath hitched, and I felt her fingers curl tighter, her body molding perfectly to mine.
When I pulled back slightly, just enough to let us both breathe, her eyes searched mine, her voice soft and breathless. “What’s gotten into you?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I leaned down, my lips finding the curve of her neck. Her skin was warm, impossibly soft, and I kissed her there, slow and deliberate, feeling the way her pulse quickened beneath my lips. She shivered, her hands moving up to my shoulders, gripping me as if she needed something to anchor her.
“Tell me,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as I kissed lower, tracing a path to her collarbone. “What’s wrong?”
I paused, lifting my head to meet her gaze. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes were a mixture of confusion and something deeper something that mirrored the storm I felt inside.
“You,” I said softly, my voice rough with unspoken emotion. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Her brow furrowed slightly, her fingers brushing against my jaw. “What are you talking about?”
I swallowed hard, my grip tightening around her waist. “The way people look at you, the way they want to be close to you... and the way you don’t even notice.”
Her lips parted, and I saw the realization flicker in her eyes. “You’re jealous,” she murmured, her tone somewhere between surprise and disbelief.
“I’m not proud of it,” I admitted, my forehead resting against hers. “But I can’t help it. You’re mine, and sometimes I just... I just need to remind myself.”
She stared at me for a long moment, her hands moving to cup my face. “You don’t need to be jealous,” she said softly. “I’m here. With you. Always.”
Her words were like a balm, but the fire inside me didn’t dim. If anything, it burned brighter. Without another word, I lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist as I held her close. Her arms circled my neck, her breath warm against my ear as I carried her across the room.
When I sat her down on the counter, she pulled me closer, her fingers threading through my hair as our lips met again. This time, the kiss was slower, deeper, a quiet reassurance that neither of us needed to voice. My hands gripped her waist, pulling her as close as I could, as if proximity alone could silence the lingering insecurity.
Her lips left mine, her mouth trailing soft, lingering kisses along my jawline, then to my neck. The roles reversed, her touch igniting something in me that made my breath hitch. “You’re ridiculous,” she whispered against my skin, her voice tinged with affection. “But I love you for it.”
I smiled, my hands sliding up her back as I buried my face in her shoulder. “And I love you,” I said quietly. “More than anything.”
For a while, we stayed like that, her hands in my hair, my arms around her, the tension slowly ebbing away. The jealousy that had driven me home in a storm of emotion faded into nothing, replaced by the steady rhythm of her breath, the warmth of her body against mine, and the quiet certainty that she was, and always would be, mine.
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