He didn’t expect to see her there , not on a Saturday, not in that mall. She was turning away from the bookstore when they locked eyes. She froze. He smiled, slow and cautious.
“Hi”, she said. Her voice was quieter than usual.
“Hi”, he answered, already feeling that pull they never talked about.
They stood there for a moment, not moving. Then he nodded toward the corridor near the restrooms. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then followed.
The door shut behind them with a hollow sound. Fluorescent light, faint hum, clean surfaces: none of it mattered.
“You sure?” he asked, breath uneven.
She didn’t answer. Just stepped forward and kissed him, hard, hand in his hair, other hand pulling at his shirt. He pressed her back against the wall, kissed her deeper, hungrily. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t supposed to be.
Clothes were pushed aside in a rush. She gasped when he entered her. A deep, breathless sound. She held onto him tight, legs wrapped around his waist, fingers gripping his back. Every movement was urgent, desperate, as if they were trying to forget who they were outside that stall.
Their bodies moved in sync, fast at first, then slower, deeper. He kissed her neck, tasted her skin. She whispered his name, low, almost like a secret. The world outside didn’t exist.
When it was over, they didn’t speak. Just stood close, breathing hard, forehead to forehead.
Then she smiled, small and wicked. “We’re in trouble now”.
He smiled back. “We were already”.
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