Member-only story
The Heat Between Them
Just the intimate space they’ve created, quiet except for the soft clink of ceramic against wood, and the occasional exhale of breath between them
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Seraphina sits across from him, watching the steam rise from the bowl, the tendrils curling into the humid air like whispered secrets. The chopsticks in his hand move with a languid, practiced rhythm, as though the motions have been etched into his bones.
She watches how he brings the broth to his lips, the slow drag of his tongue to taste the salt and warmth, his eyes half-lidded, lost in the heat.
There’s a tension between them now, thicker than the steam.
It’s in the way the broth swirls, the way the noodles twist around his chopsticks, like they’re tangled in something deeper.
She could leave.
She could walk out, escape this room, this moment, but the world outside doesn’t exist right now.
It’s just him.
Just the intimate space they’ve created, quiet except for the soft clink of ceramic against wood, and the occasional exhale of breath between them.
