The office smelled like paper, coffee, and the faint tang of someone else's perfume. Aeris sat at her desk, fingers tapping idly on her keyboard, eyes unfocused, her posture slumped. Her mind kept returning to the same emptiness she had felt all week. The hollow ache of Renek's absence, the subtle, frustrating reminder that her last relationship had been devoid of touch, of heat, of anything that made her feel fully alive.
Nyra plopped into the chair across from her, loud, messy, and unapologetically herself. She waved a small packet of instant coffee in the air, catching Aeris' attention.
"You've been staring at that screen like it's going to answer your questions," Nyra said, smirking. "Babe… you need to do something about the storm brewing in that head of yours before it fries your brain completely."
Aeris gave a faint smile. "It's nothing. Just… tired, I guess."
Nyra leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. "Tired? Hun… you've been pouting all week. You know what usually helps when you're like this?"
Aeris frowned. "What do you mean?"
Nyra's grin was teasing but knowing. "You know. You're stressed, you're sad… you've been deprived for ages. Maybe it's time you fix that little problem yourself. Trust me—no one else is going to, and you deserve it."
Aeris blinked, startled. Her heart thumped a little faster, part embarrassment, part heat, part something she couldn't quite name. Her cheeks warmed. "Nyra… I don't… I mean…"
"You don't have to talk," Nyra interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Just… take a moment for yourself. Your body, your pleasure. You'll feel better. I swear. Sometimes you're not really sad, you just need an orgasm. Haha."
Aeris sat back, her fingers tightening on her coffee cup. Her body was humming in protest—or perhaps anticipation. She hadn't even realized how starved she was for touch, for her own attention, for the small release that always reminded her she was alive and still capable of desire.
She let her gaze drift to her phone, her mind wandering. And there he was. Not physically, not in front of her, but in thought: the man in the shadow from the other night at the café. Caelum. She hadn't known his name yet, hadn't spoken to him, hadn't even been sure he noticed her. But his presence lingered in her memory like heat beneath her skin. That faint, deliberate smile. The way he had observed her so carefully, so intimately, without touch. Plus him being good looking was a plus. And now, in the quiet of her office, imagining him felt electric.
She couldn't wait to get home. Immediately she arrived home, she took a quick shower, dressed up in silk lingerie like she used to in the old sweet days of her relationship. Aeris closed her eyes briefly, leaning back in her bed, letting her hand drift toward the waistband of her lingerie under the duvet. Her heart raced, and her breath caught as she thought of him watching, memorizing, waiting. She let her fingers trace lightly over herself, fingertips brushing where her desire had been aching for months.
Her mind filled with images of him—his dark eyes, the sharp plane of his jaw, the quiet intensity that had made her pulse spike the moment she had glimpsed him. She imagined his hands on her shoulders, guiding her, teasing her, daring her to surrender to the sensation she'd been denying herself.
A soft gasp escaped her lips, her fingers moving with more confidence now, her body responding eagerly to thoughts of him. She leaned back, letting the mattress support her weight, closing her eyes as she imagined the way he might look at her fully, deliberately, the way he might watch her lose herself without shame or apology.
Her breaths came faster, ragged, as the fantasy consumed her. She pictured his dark coat, the shadowed streets, the quiet observation that had made her skin prickle the night he had first noticed her. The thrill of being watched, being desired without consent, made her shiver in ways she hadn't felt in years.
Nyra's words echoed faintly in her memory: "You deserve it. Just for yourself." And she realized it wasn't just pleasure. It was reclaiming something stolen—her desire, her body, her right to feel again.
Her fingers moved with urgency now, exploring, teasing, pushing her closer to a release she hadn't allowed herself in months. Each thought of him, the way he watched, the way he waited, drove her higher, faster. Her lips parted, a soft moan slipping into the empty room, a secret she claimed as her own.
Her eyes squeezed shut, her body arching as the tension built and built. Every imagined touch, every deliberate look he had given her, every tiny detail of the night he had first seen her, combined into a storm that left her trembling and shivering as her body finally surrendered.
And when it was over, she sat there, fingers slack, chest heaving, heart pounding—not just from the pleasure, but from the realization that she had finally allowed herself to think of another in ways she hadn't thought possible.
She opened her eyes, cheeks flushed, trying to calm her racing heart. She realized something terrifying and thrilling at the same time: she wanted him And she hadn't even touched him yet.
Her body ached in remembrance, and her mind lingered on the shadows in which he existed, on the quiet heat of his presence that was becoming impossible to ignore. She could almost feel him there, watching, waiting, knowing. And it made her pulse quicken again.
The sound of a fallen mug resounded in the room, from somewhere in the house, breaking her out of the haze. She jumped, fingers fumbling to cover herself as Nyra's voice came from the other end, teasing.
"You okay over there, or did I just set off a hurricane?"
Aeris laughed softly, a little breathless, cheeks still warm. "I'm… fine," she said, though she wasn't. Not really. She was raw, exposed, alive in ways she hadn't allowed herself to be in years.
"Good," Nyra said, knowingly. "Keep thinking about him. Channel it. Just… promise me you won't lose your mind entirely before you actually get to communicate with him."
"I promise," Aeris replied, letting herself smile faintly.
She didn't know him yet.
She hadn't even spoken to him.
And already, she wanted him more than she wanted anything else.