Deal with the Flame✨

                                    

                                          

In the quiet spaces between us, where the world falls away, I feel the fire that lies just beneath the surface. It's a slow burn, a dangerous pull, like a moth drawn to the flame. Every breath I take beside you is a gamble—a step closer to the edge, knowing that falling might be inevitable. Yet, there's a part of me that craves the fall, that longs to be consumed by the heat of what we could be.
✨....................................✨
Minho's POV: 
"Fuck, Hyunjin. Don't stop," I groaned, my fingers digging into his waist as he rode me, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I lay back on the bed, watching the way his body moved, the way his back arched, head thrown back in bliss as he lost himself in the rhythm.
His pace quickened, his hips grinding down onto me with a desperation that matched my own. Every thrust brought us closer, the air thick with the sound of our ragged breathing and the slap of skin against skin. I could feel him tightening around me, his body trembling as he approached the edge.
"Hyung," he gasped, his voice strained with need, and I knew he was close—so was I.
With one final cry of release, his body shuddered, and I felt him tighten around me, pushing me over the edge as well. I grabbed him, pulling him down onto me, holding him tight as I thrust up into him, riding out the last waves of pleasure until I spilled into him with a groan of satisfaction.
We stayed like that for a moment, our bodies tangled together, chests heaving as we tried to catch our breath. The room was hot, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex, but neither of us moved. I could feel his heart pounding against mine, our bodies still connected, and for a brief moment, everything felt right.
But as the euphoria began to fade, reality started to creep back in. I loosened my grip on his waist, allowing him to slide off me, but he didn't go far. Instead, he collapsed onto my chest, his head resting against my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin.
Hyunjin agreed to be my sex partner, and it's been a month since that night in the car. We set boundaries—at least, I did. For me, it's just sex. A release. But for him, it's something more, a chance to be close to me, to try and jog my fractured memory. It's a deal we struck, and I've upheld my end of the bargain.
Every day, I see him trying to remind me of what we once had. He takes me to places that used to mean something to us, places that should stir some sort of recognition within me. There's a strange sense of déjà vu whenever we're together, but it's elusive—just out of reach, like trying to grasp smoke. 
We visited the horse stables recently. Hyunjin led me to Nova, so hopeful it almost made me feel guilty. "You gave it to me," he said, his voice soft, almost reverent. I stared at the horse, trying to connect the dots. It was hard to believe that I had loved someone enough to do something so personal, so meaningful. Romance wasn't a language I was fluent in—or at least, that's what I've convinced myself of.
But over this past month, something in me has started to shift. The walls I built so carefully around myself are starting to crack. I can see why I loved him, why I was drawn to him in the first place. Hyunjin is full of life in a way that no one else around me is. He doesn't bow to my authority like the others. He challenges me, defies me. His stubbornness frustrates me, but it's also... refreshing.
There's a fire in him, an energy that's impossible to ignore. He's the only one who looks me in the eye without fear, who stands his ground even when I push back. He's unafraid, bold, and it's starting to make me question everything I thought I knew about myself.
As much as I try to keep things detached, I can't help but notice the little things—the way his laughter fills a room, the way he lights up when he talks about something he's passionate about, the way he never stops fighting for what he believes in. And slowly, despite myself, I've started to understand why I might have loved him once.