Chapter 35
1324 Words
✨ The Quiet That Wanted More✨
Flora Pov
Flora climbed onto his lap without quite meaning to, her knee settling against his thigh as if her body had decided before her mind could. For a second she only laughed, breathless and shy, but then her hands found his shoulders and she leaned in.
Her kiss was soft at first — uncertain, testing — lips brushing his once, twice, as though she were asking permission without words. When he didn’t pull away, she grew bolder. Her mouth lingered, warmer now, slower, her lips parting just enough to steal a deeper kiss. She tilted her head, dark lashes fluttering, and pressed closer, the length of her body fitting against him as she straddled his leg.
Nasir’s breath caught.
His hands hovered in the air, unsure where to land, afraid of moving too fast, afraid of stopping her too suddenly. Heat rushed through him, uninvited and overwhelming, and for a heartbeat he simply let himself feel it — the softness of her mouth, the quiet urgency in the way she kissed him, the way she seemed to forget everything except him.
“Baby…” he murmured, voice low and strained, trying to slow her without breaking the spell.
She didn’t hear him at first. Or maybe she did and chose not to listen. Her lips traced the corner of his mouth, then returned, more insistent now, her fingers curling into his collar as if anchoring herself there.
“Baby,” he said again, this time with a shaky laugh, finally finding the courage to move. Gently, carefully, he slid one hand to her waist and the other to her wrist, not pushing her away, only stilling her enough to make her look at him.
His forehead rested against hers, their breaths tangled, his eyes dark but tender.
“Slow down,” he whispered, smiling despite himself. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
---
Flora woke wrapped in warmth.
Not just the warmth of blankets or the pale sunlight slipping through the curtains — but the warmth of being held without knowing when it had happened. Nasir lay behind her, one arm loose around her waist, his breath steady against the back of her neck.
For a long time, she did not move.
She listened to him breathe. She counted the soft sounds of the city outside. She tried to understand how she had come to feel this… safe.
When she finally shifted, carefully, his arm tightened slightly, instinctive. Not possessive. Protective.
Her heart did something foolish.
She slipped from the bed and escaped to the bathroom before he woke, cheeks already warm with thoughts she refused to name. The shower steamed around her, but the heat inside her had nothing to do with the water. It lingered low in her stomach, unfamiliar and restless, like a quiet question her body had only just learned how to ask.
When she came back, wrapped in one of his shirts and her own nervousness, Nasir was awake.
He was sitting at the edge of the bed, hair still undone, sleeves rolled up as if he had been moving around already. He looked up when he saw her and smiled — slow, lazy, devastating.
“Well,” he said. “That’s unfair.”
Her fingers tightened in the fabric. “What is?”
“You, wearing my shirt,” he replied easily. “How am I supposed to behave normally now?”
She laughed before she could stop herself, a soft, startled sound that surprised them both.
Breakfast waited in the kitchen. Too much of it, again. She shook her head, amused and overwhelmed as she sat down.
“You’re going to spoil me,” she said.
“I’m already doing that,” he said lightly, pushing a cup toward her.
They ate and talked about nothing important. Cards came out. He taught her a game she kept losing because she forgot the rules halfway through laughing.
“You’re cheating,” she accused.
“Absolutely not,” he said, far too pleased with himself.
She tried to steal one of his cards. He caught her wrist gently, holding it in place.
“Caught you.”
Her breath stuttered.
For half a second, neither of them moved.
Then he released her slowly, as if he had realized it too — the way the air between them had changed.
From that moment on, Flora noticed everything.
The way his shoulders shifted when he stood. The quiet strength in his hands. The way his eyes followed her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
And worse — the way her own body reacted.
Every smile of his sent a small, dangerous warmth through her. Every tease made her ache in a place she barely understood yet. When he leaned close to whisper something ridiculous in her ear, her knees almost gave out.
She began, without meaning to, to test him.
She sat closer on the couch than necessary, letting her thigh brush his.
She leaned into him when she laughed, pretending she needed balance.
Once, boldly, she climbed over his legs to reach the table and ended up straddling him by accident.
By accident.
His hands came to her waist immediately — steady, careful — not pulling her closer, not pushing her away.
Flora looked down at him, suddenly breathless.
Nasir’s jaw tightened. His eyes darkened.
“Flora,” he warned softly, smiling despite himself.
She leaned down and kissed him.
At first, it was timid — a gentle press of lips, uncertain and sweet. Then again, longer. Warmer.
He groaned quietly, a sound that went straight through her.
She smiled against his mouth, emboldened.
His hands tightened just slightly at her hips.
“Baby,” he murmured, laughter and restraint tangled together, “you’re playing a dangerous game.”
She didn’t stop.
She kissed him again, deeper this time, her fingers tangling in his hair. She felt the way he fought himself — the way his body responded even as he tried to keep control.
Finally, gently, he caught her face in his hands and slowed her, resting his forehead against hers.
“Not like this,” he said softly.
“Why?” she whispered, breath shaking.
“Because I want you choosing me,” he said. “Not trying to give yourself away because you think you have to.”
The words settled in her chest, heavy and tender.
Still… he did not let her go.
Instead, he drew her closer, kissing her slowly now, unhurried. His mouth traced her cheek, her jaw, the sensitive place beneath her ear. His hands moved carefully, touching her as if she were something fragile and precious — not claiming, only soothing the fire he himself had lit.
When her breath hitched and her fingers clutched at his shoulders, he smiled against her skin.
“There,” he murmured. “Just like that. Let me take care of you.”
She melted into him.
Later, tangled together and laughing again, she accused him of distracting her on purpose.
“I would never,” he said solemnly.
She rolled her eyes. “Liar.”
He grinned. “Maybe a little.”
They spent the afternoon like that — playing, teasing, stealing kisses in between jokes, drifting from the couch to the floor to the window where they watched the street below.
And yet…
When she stood by the glass, the laughter faded.
Something prickled between her shoulders.
The feeling of being seen.
Nasir came up behind her, hands settling at her hips, grounding her instantly.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” she lied softly.
But she leaned back into him anyway.
Because in his arms, the world felt quieter.
And because for the first time, she was beginning to understand that wanting — truly wanting — was as frightening as it was beautiful.
And she was already far too deep.
- Writer
