James

Luna attempted to move away, but he stopped her, gently forcing her to remain seated; she was in no state to leave.

"Luna," Liam murmured softly, his voice trembling with emotion as he gently lifted her hands away from her tear-streaked face.

His touch was tender yet urgent, as he delicately kissed each of her fingers, one by one, with a feverish intensity.

His lips lingered, leaving a trail of warmth and reassurance on her skin, a silent plea for her to open up to him.

As he kissed her fingertips, Liam's breath mingled with hers, the closeness between them palpable.

His eyes, filled with a mixture of longing and regret, searched hers for a sign of forgiveness, a glimmer of understanding amidst the tumult of emotions.

Each kiss on her fingers carried a whispered promise, a vow of devotion that transcended words.