Their foreheads stayed pressed together, the air around them heavy with unspoken words. The warmth of each other's breath seemed to fill the small space of the tent, creating a world where only they existed. Mikhailis felt Cerys lean in again, her eyes locking onto his. There was a flicker of hesitation in her gaze—uncertainty, maybe fear—but she moved closer, her lips brushing his once more.
This time, Mikhailis took the lead. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. It was more than just a kiss; it was a way of breaking through the walls she'd built up over the years. His hand moved up her back, fingers brushing through her hair, her ponytail loosening under his touch. Her lips were soft, tentative at first, but she began to melt into him. He could feel her giving in, her defenses dropping as she let herself feel—really feel—for the first time in a long while.
