Her lips tingled, a lingering warmth pressing against them, as if the kiss had left something more than just a memory. Rachel exhaled, her breath shaky, her heart a wild drum against her ribs.
Soft. His lips were so soft.
Delicate. Yet irresistible.
She didn't want to pull away. Even though her lungs screamed for air, even though her body trembled slightly from the adrenaline of what she'd just done—she wanted to stay right there.
But she had to breathe.
So, reluctantly, she pulled back, gasping quietly as she licked her lips.
Her gaze fell upon Arthur beneath her, his azure eyes slightly dazed, his face tinged with an undeniable shade of red.
'Gods,' she thought, her own cheeks growing hotter. 'How is he so unfairly handsome?'
The way his tousled hair fell against the sheets, the way his chest rose and fell in measured breaths, the way his lips—those lips—were still parted slightly from their shared moment.
"Rachel?" Arthur's voice finally broke the silence, deep and steady, yet holding a touch of confusion.
His voice. His voice.
Did everything about him have to be so attractive?
A slow, mischievous smile curled her lips. "I'll take your lips as my birthday present, okay?" she murmured, her face burning brighter than ever.
Arthur blinked up at her, still somewhat caught off guard.
Rachel, however, wasn't done yet. She missed him. She missed him so much that the ache of longing felt almost physical. She'd held back for so long, keeping that distance, pretending she could stay content with just being near him.
But now? Now, she wanted him.
More than anything, she had to make him hers.
Then, her eyes flickered downward, catching something—interesting.
"Oh?" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Arthur went still. His entire body tensed, his hands clenched into fists against the sheets.
Rachel grinned, leaning in slightly, her voice dropping into something teasing, though it trembled slightly with her own nervous excitement.
"Do you like the view?"
Arthur's reaction was immediate—his hand shot up, covering his eyes as he groaned. "Rachel, why the hell did you become so much like Cecilia?"
Did… did he not like it?
For a moment, doubt crept into her mind, cold and unwelcome. Had she misread everything? Had she pushed too far?
"Don't look away!" she huffed, grabbing his wrist before he could fully turn away. "I'm the birthday girl. You have to look at me. Properly."
"Rachel, you need to—"
But she was already pulling his arm away, and when his eyes finally landed exactly where she wanted them to—
Rachel bit her lip, watching his reaction closely, waiting for any flicker of disapproval. But instead, she saw it—the way his pupils dilated, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, the way his face turned an even deeper shade of red.
A shiver ran down her spine.
"This is…" she whispered, her voice a little unsteady, "my best part."
Her fingers fidgeted slightly, her usual confidence wavering for just a moment. "Do you… like it?"
Arthur averted his gaze.
His face was practically glowing red now.
Rachel inhaled sharply, eyes widening.
A slow, giddy warmth spread through her chest. "You like it," she murmured, her lips curling into a soft, very pleased smile.
Something press against her.
She blinked. Tilted her head. Then—realization.
Arthur's entire body stiffened beneath her.
Her lips parted in surprise before she let out a delighted giggle, pressing a hand to her mouth. "Ohh," she hummed, her smile turning playful, "you liked it so much—"
Arthur made a strangled noise, his hands snapping up to physically push her off of him. "Rachel—!"
She let him, laughing softly as she sat up beside him, her heart still pounding in her chest.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice quieter now, more sincere. "For comforting me. And for making me happy, Arthur."
She glanced at him, her gaze softer than before, her teasing expression melting into something more genuine.
"Happy birthday to me," Rachel whispered, a giddy warmth spreading through her chest.
Then, with all the smug confidence of someone who had just won an imaginary but incredibly important battle, she tilted her head at Arthur. "And don't worry about that," she added, eyes twinkling mischievously. "It'd be weirder if nothing happened."
She didn't wait for his response. It was better to leave before he recovered enough to say something painfully logical. Instead, she turned on her heel, practically floating out of the room, leaving him dazed in the wake of her words.
By the time she reached her own room, she was practically vibrating. The moment the door shut behind her, she all but threw herself onto the bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and squeezing it like it held the secret to all her happiness.
Her cheeks were burning, her heartbeat too fast, and her lips—her lips still tingled.
Rachel let out a small, breathless giggle as she buried her face into the pillow. If she had known birthdays could be this good, she would have started celebrating them properly years ago.
All the doubts, all the nightmares, all the pain that had crept in through the cracks of her mind before—gone. Just like that. Vanished, replaced by something far more intoxicating.
It had always been him.
Her world had always spun just a little bit faster when he was in it.
Rachel's fingers curled around the fabric of her pillow as she whispered her vow into the darkness.
"You're mine, Arthur. All mine. Just mine. Always mine."
A quiet, dreamy sigh left her lips as sleep slowly began to claim her.
"I'll be your perfect wife… I'll make sure your attention is always on me, and only me. Nobody else. Just me."
With that final thought, Rachel drifted into the most peaceful sleep she had had in years, a triumphant smile playing on her lips.