For now, Damien didn't care. For now, he was content to lose himself in her, to let the fire between them burn brighter and hotter, consuming them both in its relentless flames.
As his hands moved to lift the hem of her shirt, his pulse hammering in his ears, Aria suddenly grabbed his wrist, her grip firm. The movement startled him, and he froze, his dark eyes searching hers for an explanation.
But instead of speaking, she pulled back, breaking the kiss. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. For a moment, she seemed to hesitate, her gaze flickering to his lips before quickly averting. Without a word, she climbed off him, her movements deliberate but quiet, and lay down beside him.
Facing away, she pulled the thin blanket up to her shoulder, her back now turned to him. Damien propped himself up on his elbow, staring at her in confusion. Her abrupt shift left him reeling, his mind racing to make sense of what had just happened.
"Aria," he began, his voice low, almost hesitant. But she didn't respond.
She lay still, her breathing slowly evening out as if she were willing herself to sleep. She never once turned back to look at Him, leaving him with nothing but the lingering scent of her hair and the unanswered questions burning in his chest.
Damien furrowed his brows, unsure of what to feel. The heat of their earlier encounter still coursed through him, his body tense with unspent energy. But now, that fire had dimmed, replaced by a sense of confusion. What had caused her to stop? Had he done something wrong?
His thoughts churned as he lay back, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling of the basement. With no answers forthcoming, he exhaled a slow, frustrated sigh and forced his eyes shut. Whatever it was, she clearly didn't want to talk about it—at least not now. Sleep eventually claimed him, though it was restless and filled with fragmented dreams.
---
The morning light streaming through the cracks in the basement walls woke him. He blinked groggily, the events of the previous night rushing back in vivid detail. His gaze shifted to Aria, who was already awake and gathering her gear. She didn't meet his eyes as she strapped on her weapon holster, her movements swift and practiced.
The silence between them was palpable, yet neither seemed willing to break it. Damien ran a hand through his disheveled hair before standing, his muscles stiff from the makeshift bed. He went to bath as they prepared to leave the basement, their actions mirroring a quiet, unspoken routine.
As they stepped outside into the cool morning air, Damien leaned against the wall, watching as Aria crouched down to set her traps. Her focus was intense, her hands quick as they worked to secure the mechanisms. She was always meticulous, never leaving anything to chance.
"Why do you even bother with all this if you're leaving soon?" Damien asked, his voice breaking the silence.
Aria glanced up at him briefly before returning to her task. "Habits die hard," she replied curtly.
Damien raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. He leaned back, his arms crossed, observing her as she worked.
Once she was finished, she stood and dusted off her hands. "Let's go," she said, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder.
They walked in silence for a while, the tension from the previous night lingering between them like an invisible wall. Damien's mind wandered, replaying the way her body had moved against his, the heat of her lips on his. He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts aside, but they clung to him stubbornly.
Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Aria stopped abruptly and turned to face him. "About yesterday…" she began, her voice hesitant.
Damien raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. "What about yesterday?" he asked, his tone light, as if the memory of her lips on his wasn't still fresh in his mind.
Aria stared at him for a moment, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly before a sly smile curved her lips. She shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her. "You're smart," she said, her voice carrying a hint of admiration.
Then, without another word, she turned and continued walking, her hips swaying with a confidence that was almost maddening. Damien's eyes were drawn to her, his gaze following the hypnotic rhythm of her movements.
In that moment, nothing else mattered. The ruins of the world around them faded into the background, leaving only the mesmerizing sway of her body.
She glanced back over her shoulder, catching him staring, and smirked knowingly. "Try to keep up," she teased, her tone light and playful.
Damien shook his head, muttering under his breath as he followed.
---
After some time, they spotted a supermarket up ahead. The once-bustling store was now a shadow of its former self, its windows shattered and its sign hanging askew. The parking lot was littered with debris, evidence of the chaos that had consumed the city.
Aria stopped a few paces from the entrance, her sharp eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement. "Looks raided," she murmured. "But it's worth checking. Supplies are scarce, and I don't waste opportunities."
Damien nodded, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his knife.
As they approached, the door creaked open with an eerie groan, revealing the dim interior of the store. Broken shelves and scattered items lined the aisles, a testament to the desperation of those who had come before them.
Aria handed Damien a long sword she had been carrying in her bag. "Just in case," she said, her expression serious.
He took it, testing its weight in his hand. "You always this prepared?"
"Always," she replied, her lips curving into a small smile.
They stepped inside cautiously, their footsteps echoing in the empty space. The air was stale, carrying the faint smell of rot and mildew.
"We'll cover more ground if we split up," Aria suggested.
Damien hesitated, his instincts telling him to stay close. But he knew she was right. "Fine. Just shout if you need me," he said, his tone protective.
"Same to you," she replied, her emerald eyes meeting his briefly before she turned and disappeared down one of the aisles.
As Damien moved deeper into the store, the sword in his hand felt both reassuring and ominous. The supermarket might have been stripped bare, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't entirely alone.
---