"Ange," Davi began, his voice low and tender, "are you sure about this?"
She looked up at him then, her gaze steady despite the faint blush that colored her cheeks. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible but firm. "I want this. I want you."
Davi took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face. His touch was warm, and Ange leaned into it.
"You don't have to be afraid," he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. "I'll take care of you."
Ange nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. "I know you will."
Slowly, Davi leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was soft and passionate at first, but quickly deepened as Ange responded with equal fervor.
Her hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring herself to him. Davi's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.
