Maya's breath hitched as she waited for Lucas to say something—anything—that could ease the tension between them. But instead of responding with words, Lucas did what felt most natural to him at that moment. He leaned forward, closing the small gap between them, and wrapped his arms around her tightly.
Maya froze at first but quickly melted into the embrace. It wasn't the kind of hug that felt familial or comforting—it was raw, charged with emotions they couldn't put into words. Her heart raced as she felt Lucas's grip tighten, his body pressed against hers.
Lucas buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of her perfume—sweet and faintly floral—triggered memories he had long suppressed. Memories of his teenage self, lying awake at night, imagining her, wanting her.
"You still smell the same," he muttered, his voice low and rough.