Anna pulled back and looked deep into Daniel's eyes.
"Kiss me," she whispered, the words barely louder than her breath.
Daniel didn't hesitate. He leaned in, claiming her lips with a tenderness that felt almost reverent, as if he'd been holding that moment in his chest for far too long.
The kiss began slow, careful—his mouth brushing against hers like he was savoring something rare, something he feared might disappear if he rushed it.
But the second Anna responded, when her fingers curled into his shirt and her lips pressed back with quiet urgency, everything shifted.
The kiss deepened, turning warm and hungry, fueled by hours of distance, misunderstandings, and too many unspoken words. It wasn't just desire—it was relief, longing, and the comfort of finally being where they both wanted to be.
They had both missed this. Missed each other.
