9

KAMALAS POV

I told myself I did the right thing.

I shut the blind completely after she left. Turned off the lamp. Sat in the dark for a full five minutes trying to remember who I was before she walked into my life. Before that voice, that mouth, that confidence tangled itself in everything I'd kept locked down.

She was supposed to be just a student.

But the way she looked at me—challenging, curious, hungry—i didn't feel like her professor anymore. I felt like a woman trying not to fall.

I gathered my notes slowly, forcing my hands to be still.

Then there was a knock.

Soft, only two taps.

I opened the door halfway.

Mariah was standing there, eyes wide like she'd surprised herself by even showing up again.

"I left my notebook," she said, voice quiet.

I knew she hadn't. I could see the notebook tucked under her arm.

I didn't ask.

I opened the door fully, stepping aside. She slipped in, and I shut it behind her.

The click of the lock echoed.

She didn't move.

"You're not going to tell me to leave this time?" She asked.

I stared at her. "Do you want to?"

She shook her head.

I took a step forward. She didn't back up.

"Then no," I said.

Silence. Charged. Waiting.

Her eyes dropped to my mouth. "Do you want me to be here?"

My hand moved before my mouth did.

I touched her face—just my fingertips brushing the curve of her jaw. She leaned into it like she'd been waiting all week. My thumb slid along her cheek, and her breath hitched.

"I'm going to regret this," I whispered.

"Then regret it tomorrow."

And then—finally—I kissed her.

It wasn't soft.

It was months of restraint, weeks of pretending, hours of stolen glances poured into one kiss. Her hands found my waist. Mine tangled in her curls. She pressed me back into the desk, and i didn't stop her.

For once, I didn't think.

I just felt.

Her lips were warm, insistent. She kissed like someone who had been waiting too long—like she wasn't sure if this was real, or a dream she'd have to wake up from.

And I let her.

I let her kiss me like I was wanted.

My hands gripped her waist, fingertips digging in like I needed proof she was really here. Her body pressed into mine, soft and full and real. Her hands slid beneath the hem of my blouse, resting against the bare skin of my back.

"Tell me to stop," she breathed.

I didn't.

Instead I kissed her harder.

Our mouths moved like they'd done this before. Like we were picking up where something unfinished had been waiting for us all along. Her thigh pressed between mine, and I had to bite back the sound that rose in my throat.

This wasn't want—this was need. And it scared me how much I needed it.

"Kamala..." she whispered into my mouth. "God you taste—"

I kissed her again before she could finish. Her lips parted willingly. She moaned softly, and i swore something inside me broke.

I had to pull back.

I did—barely. Just to catch my breath.

Her eyes were glassy, dazed.

"Mariah," I said, voice raw. "We can't do this here."

"I know," she whispered. But she didn't move.

I cupped her cheek again, my thumb brushing her bottom lip. She kissed it.

I swallowed hard. "You should go."

Her voice barely above a whisper. "You want me to?"

"No, of course not," I admitted. "But I should."

She nodded slowly, her forehead touching mine. We stayed like that for a long moment—just breathing. Just existing in the space we'd created.

Then she stepped back.

I felt the cold where her body had been.

She didn't say anything else. She just gave me one last look—one that said everything we couldn't—and walked out.

I stood there long after the door clicked shut.

Hands shaking.

Mouth tingling.

Already missing her. _________

I'm sorry guys... I can't give it to you just yet 🤭

But when I do...it's gonna be good🤍