Cameron held Jasmine close, their bodies tangled in the quiet hum of the city. The weight of their conversation lingered in the air, but the sharp edges of tension had softened into something fragile, something hopeful.
Jasmine was the first to pull back, just enough to look at Cameron. Her eyes were glassy, tired, but there was something else there too—a flicker of something vulnerable, something unguarded. Cameron swallowed hard, brushing a loose strand of hair from Jasmine's face. "You're really doing this."
Jasmine huffed out a small, breathy laugh. "Yeah. I guess I am."
Cameron exhaled, the relief so overwhelming it made her lightheaded. She cupped Jasmine's face between her hands, thumbs tracing slow circles over her cheekbones. "You don't know how much this means to me."
Jasmine's gaze flickered downward, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into Cameron's touch, just barely, as if drawn by some invisible force. "I think I do."
There was something fragile in the space between them, something that begged to be handled with care. But there was also something magnetic, something inevitable. The moment stretched, breath hitching, the only sound between them the soft rustle of sheets as they inched closer, as if the gravity between them was too strong to fight.
Cameron's lips hovered just over Jasmine's, hesitant but desperate, waiting for permission, for confirmation. Jasmine closed the distance first, pressing their mouths together in a kiss that was slow and searching.
It wasn't just a kiss. It was a promise, a soft collapse, a silent confession of everything they were too afraid to say.
Cameron sighed against Jasmine's lips, her hands sliding down to grasp her waist, pulling her closer, until there was no space left between them. Jasmine responded in kind, her fingers threading through Cameron's hair, nails grazing against her scalp in a way that sent a shiver down her spine.
The shift from tenderness to urgency was seamless. The weight of weeks, months—years of unspoken emotions crashed over them like a tidal wave. Jasmine pulled Cameron down with her as they fell back onto the bed, lips never parting, bodies molding together with a desperate kind of need.
Cameron moved slowly, savoring the feel of Jasmine beneath her, the way her breath hitched, the way her fingers clutched at her back, as if afraid to let go. They took their time, exploring, rediscovering each other in the dim glow of the city lights. Every touch was filled with intent, with whispered reassurances, with quiet gasps and murmured names.
When they finally came together, it was more than just physical—it was raw, emotional, an unspoken understanding woven between their tangled limbs. Cameron pressed her forehead against Jasmine's, breathing her in, grounding herself in the moment, in the warmth, in the love that neither of them could quite put into words.
After, as they lay wrapped in each other, bodies still humming with the aftershocks of intimacy, Cameron traced absentminded patterns along Jasmine's arm. Jasmine sighed contentedly, resting her head against Cameron's chest, their fingers loosely intertwined.
"I missed this," Jasmine murmured, barely audible.
Cameron pressed a kiss to her hair. "Me too."
For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right again. And for tonight, that was enough.