The fire had long since burned down to embers, its glow reduced to a quiet shimmer against the dark earth. The night stretched vast and endless around them, the stars burning cold and distant overhead. But Aaravi barely noticed any of it.
Her world had shrunk to the space between her and Vihan.
They had not moved for what felt like hours, the charged silence between them heavier than any battlefield tension she had ever known. Every shift of the wind, every crackle of the dying fire felt magnified, as if the universe itself was waiting—holding its breath along with them.
Vihan had pulled away after their kiss, but not far. He sat mere inches from her, his breathing uneven, his hands resting against his knees as if trying to steady himself. But the heat in his gaze—the barely restrained longing—told her everything she needed to know.
He wanted this.
Wanted her.
But something inside him was still fighting it.
Aaravi's fingers curled into the fabric of her tunic, grounding herself against the ache in her chest. She knew what this was. Fear.
Not of her.
But of what she made him feel.
She exhaled softly, letting the quiet stretch between them a moment longer before she spoke. "Why do you keep pulling away?"
Vihan's jaw clenched. He didn't answer right away. Instead, he dragged a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "Because if I don't, I won't stop."
The raw honesty in his voice sent a shiver through her.
Aaravi swallowed, gathering her courage. "And if I don't want you to stop?"
Vihan inhaled sharply, his eyes snapping to hers. The fire in them—gods, she felt it like a brand against her skin.
His restraint was fraying. She could see it in the tension in his shoulders, in the way his fingers twitched as if aching to reach for her.
Aaravi shifted closer, just enough that her knees brushed against his. A deliberate touch. A quiet challenge.
"Tell me what you're afraid of," she whispered.
Vihan exhaled, his breath uneven. "You. This." He gestured between them, his voice rough with something he couldn't quite name. "I don't know how to want something without destroying it."
Aaravi's chest ached at the confession.
She reached out, taking his hand in hers. He stiffened, but he didn't pull away.
"You won't destroy me, Vihan," she murmured. "You're the only one who's ever seen me."
His fingers curled around hers, his grip tightening as if she was something fragile, something precious he didn't quite know how to hold.
Silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of everything they weren't saying.
Then, finally—finally—Vihan moved.
Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his free hand, tracing the curve of her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Aaravi shuddered at the touch, her skin tingling beneath the gentle caress.
"You undo me," he whispered, his voice rough, almost pained.
Aaravi leaned into his touch, her heart pounding. "Then let me."
The words broke something in him.
Vihan exhaled a curse, then closed the space between them, capturing her lips in a kiss that was deeper, slower, more devastating than the last.
There was no hesitation this time.
No restraint.
Only want.
Aaravi melted into him, her hands sliding up his arms, fingers digging into the hard muscles beneath his tunic. Vihan groaned against her mouth, his grip tightening as he pulled her fully against him.
She gasped as the warmth of him surrounded her, as the world outside of this moment ceased to exist.
Vihan kissed her like she was something sacred, something he had spent his whole life searching for and never expected to find.
And Aaravi kissed him back like she was claiming him.
She had spent so long giving, healing, tending to others. But this—this was hers.
And she wasn't letting go.
Vihan shifted, guiding her backward until her back met the cool grass beneath her. He hovered over her, his golden eyes dark with hunger, his breath ragged.
Aaravi reached up, threading her fingers through his hair, anchoring him to her.
Vihan groaned, lowering himself, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just beneath her jaw. "Tell me to stop," he murmured against her skin.
Aaravi arched into him, her pulse thrumming. "Never."
Vihan let out a shuddering breath, pressing a lingering kiss against her throat before lifting his gaze back to hers.
His expression was wrecked.
"I don't deserve this," he whispered.
Aaravi cupped his face, her touch steady. "You deserve everything."
A beat of silence.
Then, Vihan closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. When he opened them again, something inside him had shifted.
And this time, when he kissed her, it was not desperate.
It was certain.