The city glittered below like scattered diamonds as Camille stepped onto the terrace, the night air cool but carrying the electric hum of anticipation.
She could hear Dante's quiet footsteps behind her, deliberate and certain, each one pulling her closer to the storm she knew awaited.
"You're quiet tonight," he murmured, stepping close, letting the faint warmth of his presence brush against her.
"I'm thinking," she replied, voice soft but sharp, "about how reckless we've been."
He tilted his head, dark eyes narrowing in amusement. "Reckless is… attractive," he said, letting his words linger. "And we've only just begun."
Camille shivered, both from the wind and the subtle pressure of his hand brushing hers, deliberate but not claiming. Every contact sent sparks across her nerves. "Do you always speak like that?" she asked, teasing, trying to mask the storm building inside her.
"Only when it matters," he said softly. "And tonight… everything matters."
