Liliam
It was getting late, and the office was almost empty. The quiet hum of the overhead lights and the distant sounds of cleaning staff were the only noises breaking the silence. On our floor, it was just Zeff and me, going over the final details of the project. The atmosphere felt different—heavier, charged with an unspoken tension that had been building for weeks. I could feel it in the way my skin prickled whenever I was near him.
As we worked, I noticed Zeff's phone ringing on the desk, the name "Josh" flashing on the screen. "Someone's calling you," I said, pointing to his phone.
Zeff turned, stretching his arm to pick up the phone from across the desk. The moment he answered, a frantic voice echoed through the phone's speaker. Before I could register what was happening, Zeff gasped, his body jerking forward. He fell to his knees, his eyes wide, his breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts.
The smell of coffee and chocolate—Zeff's scent—grew thick and intoxicating in the air, filling the room with its warmth. My skin tingled with a strange sensation, like tiny sparks dancing across my nerves.
Zeff was trembling, his body visibly changing as he kneeled on the floor. His back broadened, muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt, which seemed to stretch tighter with every passing second.
"Zeff, are you okay?" I asked, reaching out instinctively to touch his shoulder.
"Please," he breathed in a voice that trembled with effort. "No."
"No what?" I asked, my hand finally making contact with his shoulder, feeling the heat radiating from him.
In a swift, almost desperate movement, he turned and grasped my wrist. His eyes—usually a deep green—were now pitch black, filled with a hunger and desperation that made my breath catch. The hair on his arms darkened and thickened right before my eyes, his entire body vibrating with barely contained energy.
Those eyes… they were locked onto me with an intensity that made my legs weak. I had never seen anyone look at me like that—like they were drowning and I was their only lifeline. My heart raced, and I felt my cheeks flush under his gaze.
"Zeff, what's happening?" I whispered, fear threading through the strange thrill that coursed through me.
He held my wrist tightly, his grip firm but not painful. "Liliam—" he tried to say, his voice thick and strained.
I swallowed hard, feeling the warmth of his body pulling me in, my own body responding in ways I couldn't control. I didn't know why, but I felt an almost magnetic pull toward him, a desperate need to be closer.
"You're not helping me here, Liliam," Zeff growled, his voice rough and barely human. He took a step back, his hand gripping the edge of the desk so hard that the wood cracked beneath his fingers.
"Help you with what?" I asked, my own voice shaking with a mix of fear and something else—something that I didn't want to acknowledge but was undeniably there.
"My control," he rasped, his eyes boring into mine. "I'm losing control of myself."
"Control of what?" I pressed, my mind racing. "What's going on, Zeff?"
He closed his eyes, his body trembling. "Of myself," he repeated, voice taut with restraint. "I need you to go. Please, for your own safety."
I hesitated, my heart torn between the instinct to help and the fear of the unknown. The scent of coffee and chocolate was thick, almost suffocating, pulling me closer even as my mind screamed for distance.
"Zeff, let me help you," I insisted, though my voice was trembling. I took a step closer, my hand reaching out to graze his forearm.
His response was immediate and visceral. He shuddered, a deep groan escaping his lips as his eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenching tight. "No," he said more forcefully, his voice a rough growl. "You can't help me right now. Just go."
But watching him struggle, seeing the pain and conflict etched across his face, only made me want to help him more. I didn't understand what was happening, but I couldn't just leave him like this.
I took a tentative step in, my heart hammering in my chest. Zeff's eyes opened again, locking onto mine. They were filled with a raw, primal need that scared me to my core—and yet I couldn't look away.
"Please," he whispered, his voice breaking, eyes pleading with me in a way that was almost painful to witness. "Please—"
And before I could think, before I could second-guess or rationalize, my body moved on its own. I leaned forward, closing the gap between us. And then, in one swift movement Zeff grabbed my waist and pulled me to him, my lips crashing against his.
The moment our lips touched, it was like a dam breaking. Zeff's arms wrapped around me, pulling me in tight against his body, and suddenly, everything was heat and intensity. His lips moved against mine with a hunger that matched the fire coursing through my veins.
A low growl rumbled from his chest as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing me back against the desk. His hands roamed over my back, his touch searing, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. I gasped against his lips, my hands clutching at his shirt, pulling him closer, wanting more—needing more.
His tongue brushed against mine, and a moan escaped my lips, my body arching into his. Every part of me was on fire, consumed by the sheer force of his presence. His scent, his touch, the feel of his body pressed against mine—it was all too much and not enough at the same time.
His hand slid up to cup my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek as his lips moved to my neck, kissing, nipping at the sensitive skin. I could feel his breath hot against my skin, sending shivers down my spine, making my knees weak.
"Zeff," I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper. I didn't even know what I was going to say, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the way he was making me feel, the way he was setting my entire body alight.
But then, suddenly, reality crashed back in. My mind, fogged by desire and confusion, cleared just enough to realize what was happening. I pulled back, breathless, my heart racing. "I'm sorry," I stammered, feeling a rush of guilt and confusion.
But those deep black eyes that bore into mine sent a shiver down my spine. The heat between us was palpable, a magnetic pull that seemed to draw us closer together, whether we wanted it or not. I could feel the energy radiating off Zeff, his breath hot against my skin. The tension was electric, and I couldn't help the soft moan that escaped my lips.
Zeff moved with a sudden, fluid grace, his hands firm but gentle as he lifted me effortlessly, placing me on the desk as though I weighed nothing. My heart raced in my chest, my pulse echoing in my ears as he leaned in, his mouth hovering close to my ear. I could feel his breath hot against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. Instinctively, my hands moved to the back of his head, my fingers tangling in his thick hair.
His growl rumbled deep within his chest, vibrating through his body and into mine. My legs wrapped around his waist almost on their own, pulling him closer, and I felt the full, hard press of his arousal against me. It was urgent, undeniable, and my body responded in ways I didn't fully understand. What is this? I thought, my mind spinning. Why am I feeling like this?
Just as I was losing myself to the heat of the moment, a voice cut through the haze, sharp and unexpected.
"Hello?" The night janitor's voice echoed from down the hall.
Reality slammed into me, cold and sobering. I pulled away from Zeff, fear settling into the pit of my stomach. What were we doing? What had we just done?
Zeff's body trembled against mine, a low, frustrated growl escaping him as I slipped off the desk, distancing myself from him. His enormous figure loomed over me, still radiating heat and tension, and I could see the strain in his eyes—those eyes that had been dark with desire moments before now held a mixture of frustration and confusion.
With trembling hands, I grabbed my bag from the desk, trying to steady myself, trying to breathe through the mess of emotions crashing through me. My mind screamed at me to leave, to get out before I lost control again.
"Liliam," Zeff murmured, his voice still carrying that dark edge of desire, but now there was a softness there, a tenderness that made my heart ache. He took a small step toward me, his expression unreadable.
Before he could say anything more, a surge of panic and confusion welled up inside me, overwhelming everything else. I need to go. The thought repeated in my mind, a frantic pulse I couldn't ignore.
"I need to go," I blurted out, my voice breaking under the weight of the moment. I couldn't do this. Not here. Not now.
Zeff's hand reached for me, but I was already moving. I turned on my heel and bolted for the door, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might explode in my chest. My thoughts were a chaotic mess, tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to make sense of what had just happened.
But no matter how fast I ran, no matter how hard I tried to clear my mind, I couldn't shake the memory of Zeff's lips on mine, the way his body had felt pressed so tightly against me, the fire that had ignited between us—wild and uncontrollable. The feeling lingered, hot and intense, making my pulse race all over again.
I fled down the hallway, my breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. I needed to get out. I needed to find a quiet place where I could think, where I could sort through the guilt and confusion threatening to overwhelm me. My emotions swirled inside me, clashing violently—guilt, fear, exhilaration. What had I done? I thought, my stomach twisting in knots. And worse, why did it feel so exhilarating, so right, even when I knew it was wrong?
I pushed open the door to the stairwell and started descending quickly, my footsteps echoing against the walls. I couldn't deny the pull I still felt toward Zeff, the way my body ached for his touch even now, but that was what terrified me the most.
Despite the guilt, despite the confusion swirling inside me, I couldn't help but crave the feel of his hands on my skin again. And the realization that I wanted more—that I needed more—was the most terrifying part of all.