— Nari… he whispered, unable to say anything more.
She gave him a tiny smile.
Small, fragile, trembling.
And that alone shattered him.
He grabbed her.
Literally.
His hands slid around her waist, pulling her against him as if his body had been holding its breath for weeks, months, an entire lifetime.
His mouth crushed against hers in a brutal, hungry, broken kiss—
a kiss that didn't belong to a man,
but to someone who had just crawled back from the dead.
The door slammed behind them.
He shut it blindly, without looking, his lips still devouring hers, their breaths burning, tangled, desperate.
She whimpered—a soft, tiny sound, not of pain but of need.
And it ripped what little reason he had left.
He lifted her off the ground effortlessly, his hands burning with fever and desire gripping her thighs.
She clung to his neck, fingers buried in his hair, pulling, seeking, begging.
She kissed him like she would die if she stopped.
Like her heart beat only inside his mouth.
Like she had been wandering through a desert without water.
Their teeth clashed.
Their breaths broke.
Their bodies pressed, rubbed, remembered each other after absence, trauma, fear.
He carried her to the bed.
Laid her down.
No—he placed her like one lays down a relic, with fierce gentleness, with animal reverence.
His hands trembled as he pushed a strand of hair away from her face.
She looked at him—
eyes shining,
lips swollen and red.
— You're the most beautiful woman in the world, he breathed, voice cracked.
— I love you, Nari… so much…
She didn't answer.
She didn't want to talk.
She wanted him.
She grabbed his neck, dragged him back down into an even deeper kiss—hungrier, more desperate—
a kiss soaked in longing, guilt, loneliness, sleepless nights, muffled tears.
A survival kiss.
Sion growled—a raw, deep, almost animal sound—when her hands slipped under his shirt, brushing the warm, tense, living skin beneath.
He moved down along her throat.
His mouth left a burning trail down her collarbone.
Her back arched, a breath hitched, a whispered "Sion…" barely audible—yet it pierced him straight through.
His hands slid along her thighs, moved up slowly—too slowly—
with the controlled, obscene slowness of someone reclaiming a territory he believed lost forever.
He kissed her everywhere.
Her shoulders.
Her throat.
The swell of her breasts.
Her trembling stomach.
She shook beneath him.
Not from fear—
from surrender.
From desire.
From love.
From a need too long starved.
He came back up to her, their eyes meeting, recognizing, devouring each other.
Then he kissed her again—
but this time slowly.
Deeply.
As if this kiss were a prayer.
An apology.
A confession.
A bandage over a wound too big to heal.
— I love you… he whispered against her lips.
— I love you, I love you, I love you…
She slid her fingers through his, lacing their hands together, squeezing so hard their knuckles whitened.
— Sion… take me…
Electricity shot through him.
He took her in his arms.
Held her against him.
Like someone holds the only person they can't live without.
Like someone clinging to survival.
Their bodies collided, searched, clung, reconciled.
Breaths turned ragged.
Moans intertwined.
Hands slid everywhere—through hair, over skin, along hips, up necks.
It was intense.
Burning.
Wild.
Painful.
Beautiful.
A scene of love and hunger.
Two souls clashing.
Two bodies stitching themselves back together.
Two people who loved too much, bled too much, wanted too much.
They made love like they were reuniting after twenty years.
Like every second was slipping through their fingers.
Like their hearts beat inside the same wound,
the same abyss,
the same madness.
When everything calmed, their bodies were still tangled.
Their breaths still heavy.
Their hands still gripping.
Their lips still red.
Their hearts still on fire.
And in that burning silence, the next part—the real part—fell like a blade.
Thick.
Alive.
Their bodies, intertwined minutes earlier, were now separated by… a void.
The kind that appears when a word is spoken too fast, too hard, too true.
Nari, lying back, pulled the sheet over her chest as if she were cold—
but it wasn't cold.
It was fear.
It was truth burning through her ribs.
Her voice shook—
a strangled, broken tremor that didn't sound like the Nari he knew.
— Sion… I need to talk to you…
That one sentence made the air tremble.
He sat up instantly.
Back straight.
Jaw tensed.
Like a predator sensing a storm before anyone else.
He stared at her.
Obsessively.
Burningly.
No words.
No wasted breath.
Nari inhaled sharply.
Her stomach tightened.
Her fingers twisted into the sheets.
— I need you to… let me breathe.
Sion's face snapped immediately—
the change was brutal, almost violent.
Brows tightening.
Pupils shrinking.
Breath catching.
His back went stiff, like a wire ready to snap.
— What?
What are you talking about, Nari? he replied, voice already aggressive, vibrating with a rage he was barely—
barely—
holding back.
She swallowed hard.
Looked at her hands.
Not at him.
— I like spending time with Aera… laughing with Ryo…
being with my friends…
having a… normal life…
Each word hurt her physically.
A confession.
A risk.
A necessary truth.
She lifted her eyes.
And she saw it.
The transformation.
His cheeks flushed.
A vein pulsed in his neck.
His fists clenched around the sheets.
He was burning.
— Wait… wait, Sion, listen…
It doesn't mean I'm leaving you!
I'll still spend a lot of time with you, of course…
But…
She took a long breath.
Closed her eyes.
And the words broke out of her:
— … I need space.
With work… with you…
I was… drowning.
She lowered her head.
As if confessing a crime.
And that's when everything shattered.
Sion shot to his feet.
Violently.
Suddenly.
As if someone had triggered a spring inside his chest.
He paced the room, shoulders trembling, breath growing harsher, faster, deeper.
He was fighting.
Against himself.
Against the anger.
Against the panic.
Against the primal terror of being abandoned.
He opened his mouth—closed it—searched for words—
the right ones—
but nothing came.
He turned to her.
And in his eyes…
There was only one thing:
Fear.
Real fear.
Primitive fear.
The fear of losing the only person who made him feel alive.