It started with the quiet of the night, when everything seemed to slow down, and the world around me faded into silence.
I saw him, walking towards me at the balcony, his eyes, his moves is something that has plan on me.
And then he came closer to me. The air between us crackled with unspoken words, with a tension that had been building for what felt like forever.
He touched my cheeks and chin, then started kissing my lips. It was like a spark that ignited something within me. I couldn’t resist, and I didn’t want to.
He began pulling off my clothes, and soon, I was naked in front of him.
But in that moment, I knew there was more to this than just passion. Beneath the heat, beneath the pleasure, there was a lie. We both knew it, but neither of us said it out loud. We were both pretending, playing a dangerous game that we couldn’t stop.
It wasn’t until the clock struck midnight that the truth began to slip out. Confessions, whispered between breaths, secrets that had been buried under layers of desire.
The lies we told, the things we hid from each other, started to unravel. But even as the truth came to light, the lust between us only grew stronger. It was a tangled mess, passion mixed with guilt, desire mixed with regret.
By the time the night faded into morning, all that remained was the memory of his touch, the lingering sweetness of our confessions.
And I couldn’t help but wonder, was it worth it? Or had we just given in to the pull of something we couldn’t control?
