Urag let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his neck where her cheek rested.
"Is this how you plan to survive my teasing?" he whispered, lips near her temple. "Clinging to me ?"
His hand trailed lazily up her back, slow and soothing. "You do realize," he added, voice like velvet, "you're only making it worse for yourself, right?"
He tilted his head just slightly, his breath brushing her ear.
"Because now I don't just want to tease you, Eiravyne…"
A pause—then, softer, slower—
"I want to keep you like this. All flushed and hiding and mine."
Her arms tightened instinctively around his neck, and in that small movement, her fingers tangled deeper into his hair, pulling him just a fraction closer.
Urag's breath hitched.
He didn't just lean in—he melted into her pull, as if she were gravity itself.
His hands tightened around her waist, holding her like a treasure he could never let go of.
A low, breathless whisper escaped him, laced with desperation.
