Celeste slid the SD card that Noah had given her.
Why now?
Why did she feel this sudden, inexplicable need to revisit those photos?
She couldn't say.
Maybe it was like pressing on an old bruise just to feel something again.
Maybe it was nothing more than a bad habit she hadn't quite grown out of.
Even as she called it self-indulgent, even pathetic—
her fingers were already clicking through the images.
One photo. Then another.
Each frame peeled back the layers of dust over memories she thought she'd long buried.
A warm spring afternoon. The breeze dancing over green grass.
A boy laughing with ice cream in his hand. Sleeves rolled up.
Eyes half-lidded in the sun as he looked at her—his gaze filled with far more dreams than she remembered.
Daniel, back then…
had been softer. Lighter.
The name that used to mean warmth.
And then—She stopped.
The next photo.
Behind the old school storage shed.
Two students, pressed close, sharing a kiss against a crumbling brick wall.
Their uniforms might've covered them, but the emotion between them was bolder, more honest than any adult pretense.
That fleeting warmth.
The nervous breath.
Instincts just beginning to bloom, now surging back like a current through her veins.
"I'm coming in."
The door swung open with a thud.
Daniel.
Celeste jolted and slammed the laptop shut.
Her breath caught, fingers fumbling.
He noticed—of course he did.
His eyes narrowed.
"O…K... You're acting super shady right now."
"What? No! I wasn't— I was just working. What did you bring? You can leave it there."
He walked over and set the file on her desk without a word.
But instead of turning to leave—he stayed.
No parting comment. No retreat.
Just the quiet weight of his presence… and his gaze, steady, unblinking.
"Did…you watched porn?"
He said it with a smirk—playful, almost amused.
But there was a glint of something real in his eyes. Something sharp.
"What?! Hell No! It wasn't—Just go if you've got nothing useful to say."
"Mm. You sure? You're acting like a teenager who got caught sneaking something late at night."
"Daniel. Don't start."
"Fine. If you insist."
He turned like he was going to leave—
then spun back and popped open the laptop in one swift motion.
"Daniel! Stop—!"
But it was too late.
On the screen: Two teenagers in uniform. Their lips pressed together under soft spring light.
Silence fell, thick and unmoving.
Daniel stared.
Then slowly turned toward her.
His hand found the back of her chair. And gently—he pulled her closer.
She looked away.
Tried to.
But there was nowhere left to run.
"I gave you enough time to walk away,"
he said, his voice low and even.
"I'm not running anymore."
And before the last word had fully left his lips—
he kissed her.
Deep. Hard. Hot.
No hesitation, no restraint. Not this time.
Everything he'd been holding back for years came crashing down in that one kiss, raw and consuming, like a dam finally breaking open.
Celeste didn't resist.
Couldn't.
Her body responded to him like it remembered everything.
Every kiss erased another layer of distance.
Every breath they stole from each other filled the space with heat.
His hand traced down her collarbone.
Untied the ribbon of her sleep dress.
The fabric slipped down her shoulders like a whisper.
His palm moved over the thin lace of her bra, his heat seeping into her skin, melting her resolve with every touch.
He lifted her into his arms and laid her gently on the velvet couch nearby.
She tried to speak through the haze.
"Daniel… We shouldn't—"
But he didn't let her finish.
His mouth found hers again.
He didn't want to hear the excuses.
Not tonight.
"We shouldn't." "We're family."
That fragile line they had tiptoed around for years—snapped, clean and irrevocable.
Instead of answering, he knelt between her thighs, his fingers sliding through the slick heat at her center.
Her breath caught.
Her body arched.
Her mind still whispered no, but her body had stopped pretending long ago.
He unzipped his pants.
Lowered himself onto her, his weight grounding her in the moment.
She felt him—hot, solid—pressing against her entrance.
And without pause, he slid deep inside.
She bit her lip, trying to stay quiet.
But every movement pulled another gasp from her.
Each thrust drove deeper, her body clenching around him like it had been waiting for this—for him. Moans spilled between them, tangled with breath and sweat and hunger.
On that couch, every no they'd ever said
burned away into a single, blazing yes.
"Celeste…"
He groaned her name, voice ragged.
her body writhing beneath him as release crashed over her.
Until the night blurred around them, and nothing else existed but each other.
Until finally—his body shuddered, and he came deep inside her.
Silence returned, soft and slow.
Their tangled breath was all that remained in the dark.