Combustion Point
The storm outside is an easy excuse; the real weather rages between them. He arrives like a held breath, she opens like a door unlatched, and the past - sharp and bright - flares to life. Hands relearn the map of shoulders, the slope of a throat; mouths find their old music, fierce and reverent. They fall, not as victims but as pilgrims, into a night that remakes them, where tenderness burns hot enough to cauterize regret. Love here is peril and refuge at once, a brink they c…
By Rydr88 · Free AI-generated tale · Romance · EN
