James lay in the quiet dark, heart pounding, body tense, unsure if this moment was a dream or the culmination of every fantasy he'd ever harbored.
Mia was in his arms.
The room was dim, the distant hum of the night filling the silence between their shallow breaths. Moonlight pooled gently through the window, painting her skin in soft silver. She was close—so close—and she had been the one to lean in first.
They lay side by side for a while, not saying much. He thought maybe she'd fall asleep. But then she touched his hand. Then his cheek. Her fingertips grazed down his jawline slowly, like she was rediscovering him all over again.
When she kissed him, he thought he'd stop breathing.
It started gentle—uncertain, almost like a question. But as she deepened the kiss, something snapped loose inside of him. Years of silent longing, suppressed desire, secret daydreams came rushing to the surface.
He had loved Mia for so long it had carved tunnels into his soul.
Now, here she was—her lips on his, her arms pulling him close, her breath hitching as he kissed down her neck. Every small sound she made fueled the fire inside him.
They undressed each other slowly at first, almost reverently. James took his time, revealing inch after inch of her skin like unwrapping a gift he'd been waiting his whole life to open. His hands trembled with awe.
He memorized her curves, kissed the freckles on her shoulders, the line of her collarbone, the hollow beneath her ear. Her breath was hot against his neck, her voice whispering his name over and over like a prayer.
He loved her with everything he had in him.
And she welcomed him like he belonged.
They moved together in waves—urgent and tender, breathless and wild, soft and then not so soft. There were moments when the world disappeared entirely, when it felt like the universe had conspired to give them this sliver of heaven.
They made love twice that night, and after, they lay in tangled sheets, limbs draped over each other, her head resting on his chest.
James stayed awake long after Mia drifted off. He ran his fingers through her hair and watched her sleep. His heart felt so full he thought it might burst.
He had loved her in secret for so long… and now, she had chosen him. Even if it was only for one night.
He closed his eyes and let himself believe.
The morning sunlight was less forgiving.
Mia stirred before James did. Her head throbbed faintly from the wine, and for a moment, she didn't realize where she was. She sat up slowly, blinking at the unfamiliar wooden beams of the cabin ceiling.
Then she turned.
James was sleeping peacefully beside her, shirtless, his face calm in the golden morning light.
Her breath caught.
Memories flashed behind her eyes. The kissing. The whispers. The heat. The way their bodies had moved together.
She pulled the covers up to her chest, mortified.
"What did I do?" she whispered, voice shaking.
She grabbed her clothes from the floor, hurriedly dressing as quietly as she could. Her hands fumbled with her shirt. Her cheeks burned with the weight of it all.
Just as she reached for the door to the bathroom, James stirred.
"Mia?" he said, voice thick with sleep. "Hey... you're up."
She froze. Turned. "James, what the hell happened last night?"
He sat up, blinking. "We… we were together."
"Oh my god." Her voice cracked. "We did it. We slept together. I—James, I was drunk!"
"You were tipsy, yeah," he said slowly, trying to stay calm. "But you kissed me. You said you wanted me to stay. I asked if you were sure."
Mia ran a hand through her tangled hair, pacing. "I don't even remember everything. James, that's not like me. I don't… I don't just sleep with people like that."
He stood, approaching her carefully. "Mia, I didn't force anything. We connected. You wanted it too. I swear, if I thought for a second you weren't sure—"
"I don't know what I was!" she snapped, tears threatening. "I don't know if it was the alcohol or the stupid bonfire or just... loneliness. But this can't happen again."
James's heart cracked like glass under pressure. "Mia, I've waited for this moment for years. You have no idea how much I love you."
Her eyes filled with panic. "Don't say that."
"It's the truth," he whispered. "And I know you felt something too. You responded to every touch, every kiss. I still hear your moans in my head."
She shook her head. "You don't understand. This wasn't supposed to happen. I have a boyfriend. And you—this—it's too much. Too fast. Too confusing."
James took a step back, swallowed hard, and nodded. "Okay. I get it."
Mia turned away, rushing into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. The sound of running water soon followed.
James sat back on the bed, the echo of her absence louder than anything else in the room.
He should've felt devastated. Maybe he was.
But somewhere deep inside, another emotion stirred.
Satisfaction.
Because for one night, he had been with her. The real Mia. Not the image in his head. Not the girl in the graduation photo or the subject of his shrine.
He had touched her, heard her laugh in the dark, felt her chest rise and fall against his.
It wasn't just lust. It wasn't obsession.
It was intimacy. It was something.
James returned to his own room a few minutes later, moving slowly, his body sore and his thoughts a whirlwind.
He lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. A small, crooked smile tugged at his lips.
He had loved her. And for one night, she had let him in.
Maybe she'd regret it. Maybe she'd bury it deep and pretend it never happened.
But he would never forget.
And in some strange, twisted way, that was enough… for now.
Because now, the obsession had become real. No longer just fantasy or one-sided infatuation.
Now, there was proof.
He'd tasted heaven.
And he'd find a way back to it—no matter what it took.