Unspoken Confessions

Some truths aren't meant to be spoken, but they burn just the same.

Adrian....

The silence in the room stretched thin, taut like a wire ready to snap. Celeste stood in front of me, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. The tension between us was heavier than it had ever been, pressing into every inch of space between us.

I had let her stay. I had made a choice, and for the first time in years, it felt like a reckless one.

I took a slow breath, pushing off the desk and stepping closer to her. "You should leave."

She didn't move. "No."

Her defiance was a spark to the gasoline already pooling inside me. "You don't belong in this world, Ogonëk."

"Then why do you keep pulling me back in?" she countered, her voice sharp but steady.

I had no answer for that. Or maybe I did, but I wasn't ready to admit it. Not to her. Not to myself.

Her gaze flickered, searching my face for something. I didn't know what she was looking for, and I wasn't sure I wanted her to find it.

"You drive me insane, Ogonëk. Do you know that?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.

She let out a slow exhale, something shifting in her posture. "You're not exactly easy to deal with either."

I stepped closer, enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. Her breath hitched, but she didn't step back.

"Then why are you still here?" I murmured.

For a moment, she didn't answer. The air between us was thick, electric. I should have walked away. I should have ended this conversation before it reached a place neither of us could return from.

But I didn't.

She lifted her chin slightly, her lips parting as if she was about to say something, but I didn't let her. I closed the distance, capturing her lips in a kiss that was nothing short of raw frustration, unspoken words, and reckless desire.

She stiffened at first, a sharp intake of breath between us, but then—she kissed me back. It wasn't soft or slow. It was war, a clash of control neither of us wanted to surrender.

But she was the one who pulled away first.

Her breathing was uneven, her eyes wild with something she refused to name. "This… this is a mistake."

I smirked, though my chest was still tight. "Then why do you look like you want to do it again?"

She let out a shaky breath and took a step back. "I'm not one of your little distractions, Adrian."

"No," I admitted, my voice lower now. "You're not. That's the problem."

She turned to leave, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. But just as she reached the door, she paused, looking over her shoulder.

"You think you have control over everything, Russo. But this? Whatever this is? It's slipping."

And then she was gone.

I stood there, staring at the empty space where she had been, feeling the ghost of her lips against mine.

She was right. This was slipping.

But for the first time in my life, I wasn't sure if I wanted to stop it.