Chapter 62:Between Ice and fire

Noor waded deeper, the icy water wrapping around her like a living thing, licking at her skin with a sharp, unrelenting bite. Every step sent another wave of fire through her veins, a cruel contradiction of pain and sensation. The potent herbs seeped into her pores, heightening every flicker of awareness.

Her breath came slow, controlled.

But tonight, something felt different.

She didn't look back.

She didn't have to.

Before he could announce himself, she knew it was him. Sanlang.

She knew it before she heard the ripple of water behind her, before the air thickened, before her skin prickled with the weight of his presence. It wasn't a question of if, only when.

Then—he stepped in.

No hesitation. No pause.

The water that burned her did not touch him the same way. It did not resist. It welcomed him.

And where Noor burned, Sanlang felt nothing.

The contrast sent a violent tremor through her.

It was balance.

Her breath hitched, the steady rise and fall of her chest breaking its rhythm. The flute trembled in her grip, but she forced herself to continue, weaving a melody through the night—soft, sorrowful, aching.

Sanlang moved closer.

She did not turn, did not falter, but she felt him—his warmth closing in, his presence seeping into her back like fire against ice.

Her breathing deepened, chest rising and falling, her ribs expanding beneath the weight of anticipation.

Then—his arms.

They slid around her waist, slow, possessive, dragging her into him. His body pressed against her back, firm, unyielding, too warm, his breath fanning over her damp skin.

Her pulse stumbled.

Still, she played.

Her breath shook against the flute's mouthpiece, the notes wavering, her body betraying her.

Sanlang's lips hovered near her neck.

He inhaled deeply.

Noor's entire body tensed, her chest stalling before rising again in a slow, desperate inhale.

His grip tightened, fingers pressing into her bare stomach, branding her with heat.

Her lashes fluttered.

Then—his mouth.

A featherlight touch at first, a barely-there press of lips beneath her ear.

Noor's breath hitched.

Her chest heaved, the rise and fall sharp, unsteady, as a soft, unbidden mmmhh slipped past her lips.

Sanlang didn't stop.

Didn't hesitate.

His mouth traced lower, lingering along the column of her throat, tasting, discovering, claiming.

The melody wavered—faltered.

Then, the flute slipped from her fingers, vanishing beneath the water with a soft plop.

Sanlang exhaled against her skin.

"I knew you would drop it," he murmured.

Noor sucked in a sharp breath, her ribs pressing against the weight of his hold, her chest rising into his arm.

His hands moved.

Fingers splaying lower, spreading over her stomach before dragging up, slow, deliberate. His palms brushed beneath her ribs, tracing the shape of her, fingertips just barely skimming the underside of her breasts.

Noor trembled.

Her breathing turned erratic—sharp inhales, uneven exhales, each rise of her chest pushing against his touch.

Sanlang groaned low against her neck.

"You're shaking," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

Noor's fingers twitched, grasping at nothing.

His hands traveled lower, his grip tightening on her hips, pulling her flush against him.

The contact sent a shockwave through her, a deep, shuddering ahhh slipping past her lips before she could stop it.

Sanlang felt that.

Felt her.

Only her.

His lips found her jawline, trailing lower, grazing along the pulse hammering wildly at her throat.

Her breath stuttered.

Her chest rose, fell, rose again—too fast, too hard.

"You knew I would come," he whispered, his voice dark, rough, needy.

Noor let out a slow, trembling exhale.

Yes.

Her breathing deepened, chest rising and falling, her ribs expanding beneath the weight of the moment.

And then—his arms.

They slid around her waist, slow, possessive, pulling her into him with a quiet certainty, as if this was where she had always belonged. His body pressed into her back, solid, unyielding, his heat enveloping her while the water remained mercilessly cold.

---

The cold spring burned.

Noor gasped as Sanlang's arms tightened around her, his lips still pressed to her neck, his breath scalding against her damp skin.

She could feel everything.

The way his body molded into hers, how his grip refused to loosen, how the muscles beneath his soaked shirt tensed as if he were holding himself back with every ounce of restraint he had left.

But Noor knew—he was losing.

And she was helpless against it.

Her hands trembled as she tried to push against his chest, but the moment she did, Sanlang growled low in his throat—a sound dark, deep, needy—and turned her in his arms, making the water slosh around them.

Noor gasped sharply, her breath stalling in her throat as his hands slid down her sinfully round hips, gripping firmly, possessively.

"Sanlang—hhhaaah—!"

But he wasn't letting go.

Her mind screamed for distance, for restraint. But Sanlang's grip tightened. His body pressed against hers, strong, unyielding, unwilling to let her go.

She gasped softly, her chest rising and falling against him, the cold water forgotten in the heat of his touch.

Sanlang's breath was ragged, uneven. He was losing control.

Sanlang's breath was ragged, uneven. He was losing control, and he didn't even understand why. His fingers cupped her face, tilting it up, pulling her back in—

And this time, he devoured her.

His lips crashed against hers, harder, desperate, drinking her in as if she were the only thing keeping him alive.

His lips crashed against hers again, this time with no hesitation, no restraint, only hunger.

Noor moaned into his mouth, her hands clawing at his chest, desperate to push him away and pull him closer all at once.

"Mmahh—! Hhhaah—!"

Sanlang groaned in response, his fingers digging into her waist as he lifted her against him, his chest pressing flush against hers, trapping her between his heat and the cold water.

Noor's body arched involuntarily, a deep shudder wracking through her.

She couldn't stop this.

She couldn't breathe.

The only thing filling her lungs was him—his scent, his heat, his overwhelming presence pressing into her from every side.

"Do you feel that?" Sanlang's voice was a ragged whisper, his lips brushing against the shell of her flushed red ear.

His hips rolled into hers, the unmistakable hardness of his manhood arousal pressing against her lower stomach.

Noor let out a sharp, breathless cry.

"Hnnngh—!"

Sanlang groaned deeply, his hands slipping lower, gripping the wet fabric clinging to her thighs.

"I can't..." His voice shook, low and wrecked. "I can't stop, Noor."

Her tender breasts slammed against his ribs, her breath coming fast, uneven, desperate.

She could feel the restraint in his body, the way he was holding himself back, trembling with the effort.

Yet his hands wouldn't stop moving.

Sliding up her thighs.

Tracing the curve of her waist.

Claiming every inch of her.

Noor's vision blurred.

Her body wasn't hers anymore. It was responding to him—melting, surrendering, betraying her completely.

Her lips parted, a ragged, helpless,

"Aaahh—!"

Sanlang shuddered, his fingers digging into her hips, his forehead pressing against hers as he breathed her in.

"You're shaking," he whispered.

His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her dress, inching higher, higher—

Noor's breath stuttered.

"Sanlang—"

His lips found her jaw, her throat, her shoulder, kissing, nipping, tasting, his tongue flicking against her damp skin.

He was losing himself in her, in the way she gasped, in the way her body trembled against him.

And Noor...

She was losing herself too.

She wanted to stop this.

She wanted to fight him.

But her fingers were fisting in his hair instead, pulling him deeper, making him groan against her neck, making him shudder violently.

"You knew I would come," he murmured, his breath ragged, his voice thick with need.

Noor let out a slow, trembling moan.

"Ahhh—haaah—"

She couldn't stop this.

She couldn't stop him.

And she didn't want to.

His hands slid lower, gripping her thighs, spreading them slightly, making her gasp louder.

She was losing.

Sanlang's fingers curled against her skin, hot, unrelenting, his lips trailing back to devour her mouth again.

Noor let out another helpless, breathless,

"Hnnngh—"

And just as his hands inched dangerously higher—

Her fingers caught his wrists, stopping him.

"Sanlang—!"

She was shaking.

Her breath hitched violently, her chest rising and falling in frantic, erratic waves.

Sanlang froze.

For the first time, his grip loosened.

For the first time, he hesitated.

Noor turned her face up to meet his gaze, her lips red, swollen, trembling, her body still pressed against his, still burning with the fire he had set inside her.

Sanlang's expression was wrecked, undone, desperate.

His entire body was shaking against hers.

His fingers twitched, aching to keep going, to pull her back in, to take her completely.

Noor swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper.

"Not yet."

Sanlang's jaw clenched. His breathing was heavy, ragged, broken.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to control the storm inside him.

But he couldn't let her go.

He wouldn't let her go.

Instead, he pressed his forehead against hers, his arms still wrapped around her, still holding her as if letting go would kill him.

His voice came out raw, torn between agony and devotion.

"Noor..."

The water rushed around them, cold and unrelenting.

But the heat between them refused to die.

Neither willing to let go.

Neither willing to take that final step.

Noor barely had time to breathe before Sanlang's hands were on her again.

His grip was unrelenting, pulling her back into him, her body colliding against his chest. A gasp left her lips, but before she could speak—

His mouth was on hers.

Hard.

Demanding.

No hesitation. No pause.

Just hunger.

Noor's eyes widened as he devoured her, his lips moving rough, deep, inescapable, claiming her as if he were starving and she was the only thing that could satisfy him.

Her hands flew up, palms pressing weakly against his chest, but he didn't budge.

Sanlang growled into the kiss, his arms tightening around her waist, crushing her against him as if he wanted to melt her into himself.

Noor gasped between kisses, her chest heaving, but he didn't let her escape—

Didn't even let her breathe.

His lips slanted over hers, deeper, desperate, his tongue slipping into her mouth with slow, devastating precision.

"Mmmhh—!"

The sound escaped before she could stop it, and Sanlang groaned in response, his grip tightening, his fingers pressing into her back as his hips rolled forward—

And she felt him.

Hard. Throbbing. Unyielding.

Pressed firmly against her lower stomach, making it impossible to ignore.

Noor shuddered violently, her body betraying her completely.

Sanlang didn't stop.

Didn't let up for even a second.

He kissed her like a man on the verge of breaking, his lips moving against hers, his tongue teasing, tasting, consuming.

His breath was ragged, mixing with hers, their lips parting only for half-seconds, just long enough for her to gasp before he stole her mouth again.

His hands moved up, down, everywhere, sliding over her bare shoulders, tracing the damp fabric clinging to her waist, gripping her hips, her thighs, pulling her even closer.

Noor whimpered, her fingers digging into his arms, her body melting, arching, losing.

"Ahhh—Sanlang—"

Sanlang groaned loudly, swallowing her voice as his teeth grazed her lower lip, tugging, sucking it into his mouth before deepening the kiss all over again.

His tongue danced with hers, slow, deep strokes, dragging, teasing, until Noor was trembling uncontrollably in his arms.

Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, but he still wouldn't let her go—

Wouldn't let her breathe without taking her lips again, again, again.

The pressure of his body against hers, the heat of his breath, the way his manhood pressed, pulsed, throbbed against her stomach—it was too much.

She was drowning.

Completely drowning in him.

Her body felt boneless, her mind foggy, lost in the feeling of his lips, his tongue, his hands everywhere at once.

Sanlang broke the kiss only to drag his lips down her jawline, leaving a hot, open-mouthed trail of kisses, his breath scorching against her neck.

He bit down gently, sucking at her pulse point, making Noor gasp sharply, her legs weakening beneath her.

"Hhaaah—!"

Sanlang groaned, the sound deep, guttural, his lips brushing lower, lower, tracing the curve of her shoulder.

"Noor…" His voice was wrecked, his forehead pressing into her damp skin as his hands gripped her harder, his chest rising and falling violently.

His entire body was trembling against hers.

And then—

His hips rolled against her again, just slightly, just enough for Noor to feel that hard, unrelenting pressure against her lower stomach.

Noor let out a sharp, breathless cry, her fingers digging into his arms, desperate to hold onto something—anything—before she completely lost herself.

Sanlang's head snapped up at the sound, his breathing ragged, his lips swollen and red from kissing her senseless.

Their eyes met.

Noor's gaze was wide, unfocused, dazed.

Sanlang's was wild, unreadable, dark with something between desire and torment.

His grip tightened, his chest rising and falling in erratic waves.

"…stop me," he whispered, his lips brushing hers again, his voice so low, so raw, it made Noor shiver.

Her breath came out in a soft, helpless whimper.

"Ahh—"

Sanlang groaned violently, as if her voice alone was driving him insane.

But then—

She felt it.

His fingers, gripping the hem of her dress.

Lifting it.

Higher.

Noor's eyes snapped open, her heart slamming against her ribs.

"Sanlang—!"

Her hands flew to his wrists, stopping him just in time.

Everything froze.

Sanlang went completely still, his chest heaving, his fingers still gripping the damp fabric of her dress.

Noor was panting, trembling, her lips red, swollen, wet from his kisses.

Sanlang's entire body was shaking, his muscles tensed, his manhood still pressed against her, throbbing, aching, but—

He didn't move.

Only his breath remained, hot and heavy against her cheek, his fingers twitching, still gripping her dress but not pulling anymore.

Their eyes locked.

A war raged between them.

Sanlang's jaw clenched as he swallowed hard, his lips parting like he was about to speak—but no words came.

Noor could only stare, her fingers shaking as they clutched his wrists, unsure if she was pushing him away or pulling him back.

Sanlang's breath shuddered as he closed his eyes, his forehead pressing against hers.

And then, with a voice so soft, so broken, so utterly wrecked, he whispered—

"…Tell me to stop."

Noor's heart stopped.

Her lips parted, but no words came.

Because she couldn't say it.

She couldn't tell him to stop.

And Sanlang knew it.

His breath hitched, his fingers twitching again as if he were about to lose himself completely.

But then—

Noor's lashes fluttered.

She took a sharp, trembling inhale, forcing herself to breathe, to remember herself.

"…Not yet," she finally whispered.

Sanlang let out a slow, shaking exhale, his fingers slowly releasing the fabric of her dress.

But he didn't let her go.

His lips brushed against hers one last time, his forehead still pressed against hers, his entire body wrapped around her like a second skin.

Neither moving.

Neither speaking.

Just breathing each other in, caught in a moment that refused to end.

Trapped between restraint and complete, utter ruin.

---

Their breaths tangled in the space between them—shallow, uneven, heavy with something neither could name.

Sanlang still hadn't let her go.

Noor still hadn't moved.

Her chest rose and fell against his, the heat between them still smoldering, refusing to die.

His forehead was still pressed against hers, his grip on her waist still tight, his hands still trembling from restraint.

And then, his voice—hoarse, ragged, broken.

"Why…?"

Sanlang exhaled sharply, his hands flexing against her skin, as if afraid she would vanish if he loosened his hold.

"Why …?"

It wasn't anger.

It wasn't frustration.

It was desperation.

His lips brushed against her cheek, so softly it could have been the wind. His fingers curled against her waist, his body still pressing into her as if his own existence depended on it.

"Why didn't you stop me."

Noor inhaled sharply.

The words made her stomach twist.

Noor swallowed hard, tilting her head just slightly—her lips brushing his as she spoke, her voice so soft, so fleeting it was almost lost in the night.

"I won't have to."

Sanlang stilled.

A sharp inhale. His fingers tensed on her skin, his breath faltering.

"I could die like this." he murmured, pulling back slightly, his gaze searching her face.

But Noor only smiled faintly, something unreadable, something that sent a slow, unfamiliar chill down his spine.

"You will stop yourself, Sanlang."

His breath hitched.

His grip on her tightened before loosening slightly, his expression shifting—confusion, unease, something he couldn't quite place creeping into his chest.

"What does that mean?" he asked, his voice lower now, almost cautious.

Noor didn't answer.

She simply lifted a hand, fingers tracing his cheek, brushing against his jaw in a touch too light, too fleeting, as if she were memorizing him before he was lost.

"Even if your hands reach for me…"

Sanlang swallowed.

"Even if your lips claim me…"

His heartbeat pounded against his ribs.

"Even if your body burns for me…"

A slow shudder rolled down his spine.

And then, Noor leaned in, her lips ghosting over his ear, her breath warm, almost cruelly gentle.

"In the end, you will be the one who lets go."

Sanlang froze.

For the first time, the heat in his blood cooled.

He didn't understand why.

Didn't understand what she meant, what she was saying, what she wasn't saying.

But something about it terrified him.

As if she already knew something he didn't.

As if his fate had already been sealed.

Sanlang pulled back, gripping her shoulders.

"Noor—"

But she only smiled again, that same unreadable, fleeting expression.

Then, slowly, she lifted her hands and pried his fingers off her.

One by one.

Sanlang's stomach twisted painfully.

Noor exhaled, closing her eyes for a brief moment before whispering—

"Goodnight, Sanlang."

And then—

She turned and walked away.

The water rippled behind her, the cold rising where her warmth had been, and Sanlang could only stand there—aching, burning, haunted by the words she left behind.

And worst of all—

He didn't know why they felt like a curse.