Behind the set curtains, Artem was still feeling the aftershocks of that kiss with an intensity that refused to settle into anything manageable or ordinary. Yu's taste clung stubbornly to his tongue, sweet in a way that felt ancient rather than merely alluring, and addictive in a way that made restraint feel less like discipline and more like slow starvation. The subtle pressure Yu had placed against his chest should have been enough to create distance, yet Artem had no intention of allowing something so minor to interrupt what had already begun unfolding between them.
Instead of withdrawing, he caught Yu's hand in his own and closed his larger, warmer fingers around it until the gesture became less resistance and more possession. With calm, deliberate confidence, he moved that hand aside so he could close the space between them again, his gaze brightening with a sharp and unmistakable interest that no longer bothered pretending to be simple flirtation.
"Yule…"
