Unhurried.
Measured.
Moving away down the hallway.
I stay there, listening until the sound fades completely, my pulse still thudding too hard, too fast.
And as I finally push myself upright, one thought settles deep in my chest,
He didn’t kiss me.
But he didn’t let me go untouched, either.
Khai
The door clicks shut.
Soft. Final.
I stay where I am for a moment, staring at the wood like I can still feel the heat of her through it. Like the space she left behind hasn’t already carved itself into my chest.
Inside, I hear the lock turn.
Good.
I step back, boots quiet against the concrete, every sense tuned sharp as I scan the hallway. Too quiet. Too clean. The kind of place people assume is safe because nothing bad has happened there yet.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
I ignore it.
Instead, I lean against the opposite wall, arms folding across my chest as I listen to her movements inside, to the building settling, to the echo of my own restraint pounding behind my ribs.
I’d been a breath away.
Closer than I should have allowed.
The taste of it still lingers, her breath hitching, her pulse racing beneath my hand, the way she’d leaned toward me without even realising she was doing it. That’s the part that gets to me.
Not fear.
Choice.
I drag a hand through my hair and force myself to step away from her door. Slowly. Deliberately. Like if I rush, I’ll turn back.
The stairwell swallows my footsteps as I descend, my presence fading into shadow. Outside, the night greets me like an old friend, cool air, distant traffic, the low hum of the city breathing around us.
I pull my phone out now.
One message already waiting.
Unknown
Car’s moved. Dropping it in ten.
Good.
I type a response without slowing my stride.
