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“Noted.”
I don’t stop.
She doesn’t either.
Mila
This is worse.
So much worse.
Because now—
It’s not just impulse.
It’s not just adrenaline.
It’s not just the moment.
It’s—
Deliberate.
He kisses me again, and I feel it.
The difference.
The control.
The choice.
And somehow—
That makes it harder to stop.
Not easier.
I pull back just enough to breathe.
Just enough to think.
Which is a mistake.
Because thinking reminds me—
He’s hurt.
We’re being hunted.
This is complicated.
This is dangerous.
This is—
“…a bad idea…” I whisper.
“Yeah,” he murmurs.
