Erruption

It was quiet in the room, too quiet. The kind of quiet that hummed with potential—something unsaid, something unspent. Kika sat at the edge of Kotae’s bed, her damp hair now dry but still slightly wild, framing her face in soft waves. Her fresh clothes clung to her skin in all the right ways, warm from the heat of the room. She didn’t move. Just watched him.

Kotae stood by the door, unmoving too. A statue carved in tension. He had also changed—shirt loose, sleeves pushed up, hair slightly tousled from the towel. There was still a bit of steam in the air, the faint trace of their hot showers hanging like breath in winter. But the heat between them was something else entirely.

Kika’s gaze met his. Not shy. Not hesitant.

Hungry.

It was the kind of look that didn’t ask permission—it claimed it. Her eyes were dark with want, but steady, sharp with clarity. There was nothing confusing about what she wanted. Nothing vague.

Kotae stepped forward once, then again. Slow. Deliberate. A hand at his side twitched slightly, like he was holding back a tremor of anticipation. He said nothing, but his body language answered the call in her eyes. Every step toward her was thick with gravity, the invisible cord between them shortening by inches.

He got close enough to feel her breath.

She raised her hand, slowly, like a whisper in motion, and rested her fingers against his. Her hand trailed up his arm, gliding with intention. She felt his warmth through the fabric—his muscle, his heartbeat beneath skin and cotton. Her fingertips brushed under his shirt, palms sliding across the firm lines of his stomach, the subtle ridges of his abs. Her touch was reverent, but electric. When she reached his chest, she paused, pressed her hand flat against him like she was reading something only she could understand.

Then, she pulled back.

Her hand slipped free from beneath his shirt—but only to rise higher. She reached up, curled her fingers around the collar near his throat, and tugged. Hard enough to make him fall forward, but not enough to break his balance. He caught himself with both arms on either side of her, his body suddenly hovering just above hers. His knee dipped onto the mattress beside her thigh.

The breath they both let out in that moment was the same. One breath. One heat.

Their mouths collided before their thoughts could catch up—desperate, full, hungry. Kika leaned back with him still over her, pulling him with her, lips refusing to part. His weight eased onto her as she guided them down, and when her back hit the mattress, she didn’t gasp—she exhaled like she’d been waiting a lifetime for this. He braced himself above her with a forearm on the mattress, the other hand sliding along the side of her neck, curling behind her ear. His thumb brushed her cheek as he kissed her deeper, harder, like his restraint had been nothing but paper and she had just set it on fire.

Kika’s hands were already moving again—beneath his shirt, tugging at the fabric like it offended her. When he paused to pull it off, their eyes met again. Not to ask. Just to look. To see everything. She smiled, and it was devastating.

He didn’t smile back—but his eyes said everything.

He kissed her again, this time slower but no less intense. His hands explored with purpose—her waist, her back, her sides—like he was committing every inch of her to memory. She arched into him, fingers weaving into his hair, pulling him closer, deeper, as if the space between them was still too wide.

Clothes shifted. Not all came off—just enough. Just enough to press skin to skin and feel what couldn’t be expressed in words. Their bodies tangled, the heat between them climbing like pressure in the earth, slow and unstoppable. It was less a spark and more a fuse—burning toward an inevitable, explosive end.

When it happened—when they finally gave in—it was like a dam breaking. Like thunder splitting the sky.

There was nothing hesitant. Nothing timid.

Just two people crashing together in a moment they’d both known was coming. A moment that had waited patiently through shared looks, long nights, brief touches that lingered just a second too long. And now it was here, unstoppable, real. The culmination of everything—fear, love, longing, survival, trust. They poured it into each other with every movement, every breath, every half-whispered name in the dark.

It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t rough. It was something else entirely.

It was need.

And when it was over, and their heartbeats finally slowed, and Kotae pulled the blanket over them without speaking, Kika tucked herself against his chest, her leg sliding over his like it belonged there.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

The morning greeted them not with sunlight, but with the soft percussion of rain. Heavy, full droplets tapped against the roof, cold and clean, filling the silence with a rhythm as calming as any melody. The scent of petrichor drifted lazily through the slightly ajar window, mingling with the warmth still lingering between their bodies. It was, in every way, the perfect accompaniment to what had happened the night before.

They stirred at the same time, as if their bodies were in sync even in rest. Eyes met—sleepy, vulnerable, smiling. There were no walls between them now.

Kotae turned his head slightly on the pillow, a quiet grin forming. “Good morning, sunshine.”

Kika blinked once, then smiled back, her voice soft and teasing. “It’s raining outside.”

That was all. For minutes, nothing more was said. They simply lay there, facing each other, watching and being watched. No rush. No noise but the rain. Just glances full of meaning, hands quietly reaching across the small space between them to touch—cheeks, shoulders, fingers. There was a love in the silence, profound and easy, made all the more vivid by the storm beyond the window.

Eventually, Kotae broke the quiet, his voice low and thoughtful.

“You know, one thing I love more than snow… is this. Rain. The clapping sound of thunder in the distance. The scent of life floating in through the air. The peaceful energy it gives off... I don’t know. It makes me feel—okay. Like the world’s holding its breath.”

“I love rain too,” Kika replied, her fingers brushing lightly over his collarbone. “There’s something special about getting cozy under a roof. Something about walls sheltering you while the outside world rages on. It’s a feeling of… safety.” She paused, her voice a little quieter. “It feels safe.”

Kotae nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on hers. “I imagine most of us feel like that. Maybe it’s evolutionary. Back when we were just animals, trying to survive day by day. Shelter wasn’t a guarantee—but when you found it, it meant everything. I think that sense stuck with us. That luxury of comfort… it still hits all the right spots.”

“Winter’s like that too,” she said. “There aren’t many things like enjoying a big cup of hot chocolate in the comfort of your own home, knowing how cold it is outside… just watching the snow fall.”

“Those simple things in life…” Kotae murmured. “They make it all worth it.”

He fell quiet for a moment, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. Something shifted in his expression—like he was pulling something from deep within.

“You know,” he said, “usually I have a weird view on life. Pretty dark, I guess. I don’t find sense in most things… or pleasure, really. But moments like this—rain, snow, a hot meal with someone you care about, a cold drink on a hot day… They’re small. They’re supposed to be small. And yet they’re the things that kept me going. They kept me here. I’ve been battling with the idea of…”

The words faltered. He stopped, the rest lodged somewhere between his chest and throat.

Kika reached for him gently, cupping his face in both hands. Her eyes held his with quiet strength.

“You don’t have to say anymore,” she whispered. “I get it. I know what you want to say. But you’re here—and I’m here with you. And I’m glad you’re here… with me.”

His breath caught. He exhaled, slow and full of relief.

“All I’ve been through, mentally…” he said softly. “Something finally makes it feel worth it. Someone, actually. It’s you.”

He leaned in, and their lips met—no urgency, no need to speak. Just a peaceful, knowing kiss, heavy with everything they hadn’t said but fully understood.

Outside, the rain kept falling—unbothered, unending.

Inside, under the soft cocoon of blankets and hush, time seemed to pause.

Kika rested her head on Kotae’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm beneath his skin, the sound of life—his life—beating on. He held her with one arm draped around her waist, thumb tracing slow, absent-minded circles against her side, like he never wanted to forget the shape of her.

No more words were needed.

Just warmth. Just breath.

Just them.

And in that moment, with the storm beyond their window and the quiet between their hearts, everything broken in the world felt—if only for a while—whole again.