The Impromptu Kiss

“You’ve been moody today,” he said, leaning closer, his body looming like a shadow over her. As if she hasn't been moody since she came here.“Care to tell me why? Or shall I guess?”

Seraphina’s breath hitched.

His presence was overwhelming, the air around him practically humming with restrained energy.

Her thoughts were wild and incoherent as she glared up at him. “Just… move, Adolphus. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

His smirk faded. In its place came something darker, something sharper.

He tilted his head, his piercing gaze narrowing as if trying to peer straight into her soul.

“Why?” he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. He moved closer, his body brushing against hers as he leaned in.

“Because—” Her words caught in her throat as his face dipped toward her neck.

The warm puff of his breath against her skin made her stomach twist, a mix of fear and something she didn’t want to acknowledge.

He inhaled deeply, his nose brushing the curve of her neck.

His entire body tensed, and she felt it, the shift in his energy.

He froze, his head still bowed, his voice low and guttural when he finally spoke.

“You smell like me,” he growled, his words dripping with primal satisfaction.

Seraphina stiffened. Her hands balled into fists as his words struck her like a lightning bolt.

The room felt smaller, the air suffocating. “Of course, I do,” she bit out, trying to mask the tremor in her voice. “You only leave me your clothes.”

But her defiance didn’t seem to reach him. He lingered there, his lips ghosting dangerously close to her skin. His voice softened, the growl replaced by something unsettlingly gentle. “I like it.”

She flinched as he pressed a kiss against her cheek—light, fleeting, but enough to send a wave of heat crashing over her. Her breath hitched, and her entire body went rigid.

“Adolphus,” she warned, her voice trembling now, a mix of anger and vulnerability. “Don’t—”

“Don’t what?” he interrupted, pulling back just enough to meet her wide, conflicted eyes.

The smirk was back, but now it carried something possessive, something dangerous. “Don’t remind you who you belong to, Butterfly?”

His words hit like a slap, her stomach knotting in rebellion.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” she shot back, her voice fierce despite the trembling in her hands.

His laugh was low and guttural, more beast than man. “You keep telling yourself that, little hunter.”

Her emotions surged, a mix of rage, despair, and confusion threatening to drown her.

As she stared into his dark eyes, her mind screamed at her to fight back, to never let him win.

But beneath it all, a small, treacherous voice whispered, How much longer can you resist him?

Adolphus however, Without thinking—without even realizing what he was doing—Adolphus leaned in and captured her lips.

For a moment, everything stopped.

Seraphina’s body went completely still, shock rooting her to the spot as her mind raced to comprehend what had just happened.

But then, something inside her crumbled. Something she had been holding back for too long.

Her hands, which had been frozen by her sides, slowly lifted, brushing against his chest as she began to kiss him back.

The moment she yielded, the world around them seemed to change. Thunder rumbled low in the distance, and raindrops began to fall, soft at first, before quickly building into a steady downpour on the roof, loud and inviting.

The cool rain was loud enough to startle them apart but neither of them moved.

The kiss deepened, the warmth of his mouth against hers in stark contrast to the chill of the rain.

Adolphus cupped her face, his fingers trailing against her soft skin as though she might vanish if he didn’t hold her in place.

Without realizing, Adolphus poured everything into that kiss—his longing, his torment, the fragile hope he didn’t dare give a name.

For the briefest, most fleeting moment, he thought maybe, just maybe, she felt it too. Maybe she will continue to want this.

But then, he knew reality would come crashing down, she would remember would hate him again. So he wi rather draw back instead.

Adolphus groaned, a guttural sound of both pain and frustration, as he forced himself to pull away.

His chest rose and fell with labored breaths, his entire body tense as he clenched his fists to stop himself from reaching for her again.

He couldn’t look at her—not yet. He wanted to believe she would rather press her lips to his again than fight.

His head tilted, staring at her hair instead of her beautiful face.

When he finally dared to look down, her eyes were just fluttering open. And what he saw made his heart splinter into pieces.

Regret.

It was there, clear as day, darkening the gold of her irises like a cloud passing over the sun.

She didn’t need to say a word—her expression spoke volumes.

Her lips, still slightly parted from the kiss, pressed into a thin line as if she were swallowing the emotions threatening to surface.

And just like that, the fragile hope Adolphus had dared to feel shattered entirely.

“Go ahead,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, barely audible over the rain. “Say it. Tell me it was a mistake.”

But she didn’t. She didn’t say anything.

Seraphina simply turned away, her movements stiff and deliberate as if she couldn’t get away fast enough.

Her silence was worse than anything she could have said. It hollowed him out, left him standing there in the rain as she disappeared into the house.

Adolphus stayed where he was, rooted to the spot, the rain soaking him to the bone.

His teeth clenched as he fought the anger and heartbreak warring inside him.

“Damn you, Butterfly,” he growled under his breath, his voice a mix of pain and fury. “Damn you for making me hope.”

And then he let out a hollow laugh, one that held no humor, only the weight of his despair.

He stayed in the rain long after she’d gone, wishing the storm could wash away the ache she’d left behind.