OPERATION WINTERSPINE (Strings Between Us Book 2)

CHAPTER FIVE: OF BALCONY INVASIONS, HEARTBEAT SPIKES, AND A STOLEN BED

"Kiss stealer," I muttered, my voice barely more than a breath.

He laughed, low and warm. "Do I return it like last time... at the Marriage Booth?"

I smirked. "No. I'll take it back."

And I did.

I tiptoed, hands on his collar, tugging him down just enough to close the space between us. This kiss wasn't quick. It lingered. Slower. Deeper. Less of a spark, more of a pull, like gravity decided it was done pretending we weren't orbiting each other.

His hand was at my waist again, but this time, he tightened his hold just slightly, like he knew if he let go, I'd float straight out of reach.

The room dimmed around the edges. Time blurred. It was just us and every unsaid thing between us filling the space.

When I finally pulled back, we didn't speak. His forehead rested against mine. My hands stayed curled in the fabric of his collar.

And then, in that quiet, his voice dropped—low and dangerous.

"So... we're continuing what we left unfinished during the General Assembly?"

My breath hitched. That smug tone. That look. That memory. He tilted his head slightly, eyes flicking toward the bed behind me.

Then he smirked—devastatingly.

"And we're in your room."

I blinked. "KD—"

But the word broke off, because this time he kissed me again—no pause, no tease. Nothing careful. This wasn't soft; this was a claim. Like every ounce of restraint he carried finally snapped, and all that was left was fire.

His lips moved with a kind of precision that should honestly be illegal. Confident, hungry—familiar, yet like he was determined to relearn me piece by piece. His hand slid up my spine, pulling me closer until my knees actually buckled. I clutched his shirt like it was the only thing keeping me from dissolving right there.

Every part of me was heat and heartbeat. Breathing felt optional. Thinking? Impossible. And I didn't want to.

Because this—this—was us. Unspoken. Unfinished. Completely undeniable.

Somewhere in the depths of the Pulse Link, I felt Saichel's brain go into total chaos mode, screaming "GET OUT OF THERE. EMOTIONAL COMPROMISE. ABORT MISSION."

And Xythe's pulse? Still quiet. Still flat. Still pretending not to care. But I felt it spike—just once. Sharp and short, like a cracked breath he didn't let himself take.

They both did.

But in this moment, only KD mattered.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless, my fingers were still fisted in the collar of his uniform like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.

He didn't let go of my waist.

The room felt heavier. Quieter. Like it was holding its breath with us.

His forehead pressed against mine again, and even with my eyes closed, I could swear I felt the curve of his smile.

I exhaled, aiming for unaffected. It came out shaky. Miserably failed.
Perfect. Just what I needed—KD winning again without even trying.

"It's already past ten. You're way past dorm curfew," I whispered.

He just smiled—that warm, summer-soft smile that twisted something sharp in my chest.

"I'll sleep here."

My head snapped toward him. "Excuse me—what?"

KD just grinned—slow, unbothered, like he'd just announced something as casual as ordering coffee.