"Slow Dancing in a Burning Room" played faintly in the background…
His eyes didn't roam. They anchored.
Like a sailor who had found his shore after years at sea, he looked at me not like a question, but a statement. And I? I didn't shy away. My knees didn't knock. My throat didn't knot.
I had long stopped fearing what I wanted.
The room felt alive like it was holding its breath for them.
There were no frantic movements, no careless touches. Every breath, every glance was deliberate. He stood in front of her like a man who had waited for this moment long before he even knew her name. And Luna, bold, bare of fear, soul unzipped, met his gaze with fire in her eyes, not shyness.
Her fingers found the hem of his shirt and lifted slowly, like turning the page of a book she didn't want to rush through. He didn't move, only watched her eyes tracing the map of her skin, the outline of her courage.
He whispered, You sure?
She didn't blink. Don't ask questions when you already know the answer.
And that was it. A silent agreement.
When his lips met hers, it wasn't fireworks. It was an eclipse slow, dark, blinding in its beauty. Like the world paused to observe what two broken-yet-unbowed hearts looked like when they began to heal through each other, not from damage but from desire finally given space.
His hands weren't hungry, they were intentional. He explored like he was learning a language made just for him, and she, in return, answered every question with her body like a scripture that only he could interpret.
Clothes scattered like old chapters not thrown, but discarded with reverence.
She gasped when his mouth moved to the base of her throat, not out of surprise, but because it felt like something sacred was awakening.
They didn't rush. They weren't trying to prove anything.
It was the quietest kind of storm, the kind that shakes foundations.
(Luna) POV:
I never knew I could want something this badly without losing control.
He's not a fire. I fear he's the kind I want to sit beside.
This isn't about claiming or conquering. This is about being seen fully, deeply, without flinching.
And for once, I didn't need to hide. I didn't need to pretend to be soft to be worthy.
He met my edge with his own and didn't cut me for it.
Dawn POV :
She didn't hesitate. And that undid me.
She looked at me like I wasn't a man she wanted to tame but one she wanted to unravel, piece by piece.
It wasn't her body that made me feel like I belonged, it was the way she didn't shrink in the face of intimacy.
She carried passion like a weapon sharp, beautiful, precise.
And I? I was willing to bleed for it.
The dim light in the room didn't compete with the weight in the air. It merely glowed. Like a quiet witness.
Luna's lips parted, not in hesitation but in awe. Awe of what her body knew before her mind did. Awe of how his presence didn't drown her, it cleared the waters.
She didn't feel like she was giving herself to someone. She felt like she was returning to something. Something familiar. As though her body had always known where it belonged.
You okay? he whispered, his voice rumbling softly against her neck. Not out of concern, but out of presence.
I'm not here to be rescued,she breathed, eyes locked on him.
I know.
And that was it. No more questions. No explanations. Just movement. Just permission.
Their kisses weren't wild or rushed. They were unhurried. Explorative. Like two people reading a book together line by line, breath by breath. Neither in a hurry to flip the page. Every brush of skin was like language without words. A conversation between scars, desires, and truths long buried.
His fingertips trailed down her arm, not with urgency but reverence, as if memorizing the chapters she tried to forget. She tilted her head back, eyes fluttering shut, not out of shyness, but surrender. Not the kind that weakens but the kind that opens. Wide and full.
You feel like peace,he murmured against her collarbone.
She smiled lazily.
Then don't break me.
He looked at her, chest rising slowly.
That's not what I came for.
Their bodies met with a rhythm that wasn't about lust. It was a rhythm that felt like trust sculpted into motion. She arched into him like waves answering the moon. And he took his time every breath, every inch, deliberately. Not to conquer, but to connect.
In those moments, she wasn't a girl trying to be loved. And he wasn't a man trying to prove he could. They were just two human beings unfolding, discovering, becoming.
And when it was done when the storm had calmed neither of them moved right away.
Luna lay still, her fingers tracing invisible paths across his chest. Not searching, just settling.
That didn't feel like something we should be scared of, she said, voice drowsy, lips grazing his skin.
That's because it wasn't.
Dawn POV
He didn't expect her. Not like this. Not someone who didn't demand he explain his silence, or clean his mess before being seen. She made the quiet bearable. Sacred, even.
There was nothing innocent about Luna. But there was something sacred about the way she trusted.
She didn't flinch at his shadows. She didn't soften herself to fit into his cracks. She simply stayed whole and sure.
He couldn't tell yet if she'd wreck him or remake him.
But at that moment, he didn't care.
Luna POV
He didn't ask her to shrink. Or pretend.
He didn't run when her truths slipped from her lips like thunder in a church.
He held her gaze like he meant it. Like he wanted her not for a night, or for her fire but for her entirety. The storm and the calm.
She could feel the fear trying to rise in her throat. That old whisper: Don't get too close.
But his fingers were tangled in hers now. And her heart?
It was already dancing.
They didn't talk much afterward. Just silence, music, skin.
But it was the kind of silence that held meaning. Like a canvas after the last brushstroke.
She rested her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her like he had done it a thousand times in dreams he never dared speak of.
Outside, the world kept turning. But inside that room, time bowed.
Soundtrack Shift: Gravity– Sara Bareilles