As I felt his hands wandering, I quickly stopped him, panting softly.
"Let's go... to my place."
Yale's eyes darkened, and he didn't respond at first.
Just when I thought he was silently rejecting me, he pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead and spoke in a hoarse voice.
"Okay."
The moment the door closed, Yale pushed me against the wall, pinning my hands above my head.
He began by gently kissing my brows, nose, and finally my lips.
In the dim lighting, I couldn't make out his expression.
An intimate atmosphere permeated the air.
Just as his hand was about to slip under my skirt, I stopped him.
"Yale, are you sure about this? I'm not responsible for the consequences."
"Stella, how do you know you won't want to try it a second time after the first?" he murmured.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, but I took the initiative to kiss him. There's nothing wrong with letting loose once in a while.
He scooped me up with one arm and set me on the kitchen counter, his voice low and hoarse.
"Stella, make me some noodles, will you? I'm hungry."
My hand holding the noodles trembled.
"Yale... it's all yours..."
Outside, a light rain pattered down. Inside, an intimate, tender atmosphere lingered.