one hundred and thirty three

Ruth's POV

I gazed into Michael's eyes, my heart racing.

We stood in the safehouse, finally alone.

Michael's hands cradled my face.

"Sandra, I..." Michael's voice trailed off.

My lips met his, silencing his doubts.

Our kiss deepened, passion igniting.

I felt alive, desired.

Michael's touch sent shivers down my spine.

"Ruth," he whispered, correcting himself.

A smile spread across my face.

"You're getting better at this," I teased.

Michael chuckled, his eyes sparkling.

"I'm trying," he said, his voice low.

We broke apart, gasping for air.

Michael's gaze never left mine.

"I care about you, Ruth," Michael said.

My heart skipped a beat.

"I care about you too, Michael," I replied.

His lips brushed against mine.

This time, our kiss was gentle.

A promise of more to come.

Later, we sat together, hands entwined.

"Tell me about your past," Michael asked.

I hesitated, unsure.

But Michael's eyes encouraged me.

"I grew up in foster care," I began.

Michael listened intently.

As I shared my story,