When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they struggled to steady themselves. Elian's eyes, glassy with emotion, glistened as he clung to Izan.
The weight of desperation hung thick in the air between them, pressing against both of their chests. "Make love to me," Elian whispered, his voice trembling but resolute, a plea that left Izan teetering on the edge.
Izan felt a rush of conflicting emotions surge through him. His heart pounded against his chest, and for a moment, he stood frozen, staring into the depths of Elian's pleading eyes. The vulnerability in those eyes mirrored Izan's own inner turmoil.
"Izan…" Elian's voice was a breathless whisper, his hand reaching out to touch Izan's chest. The simple contact made Izan's resolve shatter like glass. There was something raw, almost desperate, in the way Elian clung to him, and it made Izan ache in a way he hadn't expected.
