The moment his hand touched her waist, the world dulled around them.
"Finally." he murmured, guiding her into a slow turn. "I was starting to think you'd never stop pretending."
"Pretending what?" she said, trying to keep her tone light.
"That you weren't looking at me all evening."
Ayaka exhaled sharply. "It's not the time, Akihiko. This is Yuki and Fujiwara's day."
He leaned in just a little, enough to stir the fine hairs along her temple. "Then why did you look like you were counting how many seconds I smiled during the ceremony?"
She flushed. "I wasn't."
"You were."
"Stop teasing."
Akihiko chuckled, voice low and warm. "I behave at weddings, you know. Even showed up early for once."
She arched an eyebrow, lips twitching despite herself. "Are you saying you actually wanted to be here?"
"I wanted to be where you were."
Silence fell between them.
Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs.
"But not tonight." she said quietly. "We can't do this now. Not when it's someone else's moment."
"I'm not asking for answers now." he replied, softer. "Just a promise."
She glanced up at him.
"Promise me you won't run anymore." he said, his hand tightening slightly around hers.
"No more changing the subject. No more pretending you don't know what's between us."
Ayaka's lips parted.
For a second, she thought about lying.
About retreating.
About saying, "There's nothing to talk about."
But she couldn't.
Because Makoto had seen it.
And Akihiko had felt it.
And deep down, she knew — this moment had been waiting for them, trailing behind every near-confession and late-night silence since the day their contract began.
"I promise." she whispered.
He exhaled, like he'd been holding something in for too long. "Good. Because I'm tired of waiting."
The fairy lights blurred around them as they turned gently on the floor, the music melting into the sound of her heartbeat.
"You looked stunning in the ceremony." he said suddenly.
She blinked. "I wasn't the bride."
"You didn't need to be." he said. "I couldn't look at anyone else."
Her throat tightened.
He wasn't teasing anymore.
She rested her head lightly against his chest, breathing in the quiet strength of him.
"After this." she whispered. "We'll talk."
"I'll hold you to it."
They danced like that until the music ended—no declarations, no kisses.
Just the weight of everything unsaid.
And the unshakable promise that this time, neither of them would run.
-------
The car sat silently beneath a sky pierced with stars, parked atop the old hill that once belonged only to them.
It was the same view—city lights glittering below like fallen constellations, and the same breeze whispering through the tall grass.
But everything had changed.
Ayaka sat quietly in the passenger seat, her hands clasped in her lap, her wedding guest gown slightly rumpled from the evening's events.
Her heels had been kicked off. Her shoulders hunched, like she was trying to hold herself together.
Akihiko said nothing for a moment, just letting the silence settle between them.
His grip on the steering wheel was loose, knuckles pale in the faint moonlight.
Then, as if he couldn't take it anymore, he glanced her way.
"You were looking at me the whole night." he said, his voice soft, teasing, but unmistakably serious underneath.
Ayaka's head snapped toward him. "I—what? No, I wasn't."
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You were."
"I wasn't." she said again, sharper now.
Defensive.
But her voice cracked at the edge.
He turned fully in his seat to face her, his gaze quiet and unrelenting. "Then why do you keep running from me?"
Ayaka went still.
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
She looked down at her hands, fingers curling inwards.
Then, slowly, she whispered, "I'm not running."
"You are." he said gently. "And I think you're scared."
Her throat tightened.
Her hands trembled slightly in her lap. She bit her lip.
"I am scared." she admitted, her voice barely above a breath. "You left once. Without warning. Without goodbye. I was just supposed to go on like nothing happened."
Akihiko flinched.
"I couldn't write. I couldn't sleep. I sat outside your door like a fool for days hoping you'd open it. Hoping you'd tell me I wasn't just part of some passing chapter in your life." Her voice trembled.
"I thought if I moved on, maybe the pain would stop. But I couldn't. Because it was you. It's always been you."
Her confession broke the air between them like glass.
"I never moved on." she said, quieter now.
"Not once in three years. I tried to tell myself it didn't mean anything. That we weren't real. But it was a lie. And it still is. Because no matter how far I run—my heart always turns back to you."
The weight of her words sank between them, and for a moment, neither moved.
Her chest rose and felt like she'd just stepped out of a storm.
And in a way—she had.
Akihiko leaned forward, slowly, and gently took her face in his hands.
"You were never just a chapter." he murmured. "You were the whole damn story."
She saw it—the way his jaw tightened, the guilt flashed through his eyes.
"I couldn't explain then—"
She cried, voice cracking. "I tried to hate you. I tried to forget. But I couldn't. It was always you, Akihiko."
He reached out, brushing his fingers against hers.
"I'm still scared." she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "Because if I let myself fall again, and you disappear again… I won't survive it."
Akihiko's expression shifted—something raw, full of pain and love and regret all at once.
"I know what I did." he said softly. "And I'll never stop being sorry. But I swear to you—I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again."
Ayaka met his gaze, her eyes glassy. "Don't make promises you can't keep."
"I'm not." He leaned in until their foreheads touched, his breath fanning against her lips. "This is it for me. You're it."
Her lips trembled. "What if I let myself believe you, and I lose you again?"
"Then I'll earn you every single day until you never doubt it again."
He kissed her.
Slowly.
Tenderly.
The kind of kiss that made the whole world disappear, the kind that tasted like tears and forgiveness and everything unsaid.
She melted into him, climbing over the console until she was straddling his lap, her gown riding up around her thighs.
Her arms wrapped around his neck as his hands found her waist, and then her back, and then beneath the silky fabric that had kept him away from her for far too long.
Years of silence, years of aching—all of it burst like thunder between their lips.
"Tell me..." he whispered as his mouth moved down her neck, "that you still want this."
"I never stopped..." she gasped, fingers clenching into his shirt as she buried her face in his shoulder.
Clothes shifted, unfastened and pushed aside in a storm of hands and breathless moans.
Her dress crumpled around her hips.
His shirt hung open.
Skin met skin, heat met heat, and somewhere amid the fogged windows and tangled limbs, the last of their distance shattered.
They moved together in the tight space of the car, desperate and reverent all at once, their bodies speaking a language they'd both been forced to forget but had never truly unlearned.
Each kiss was a memory.
Each gasp, a reunion.
Each whispered name, a vow.
Ayaka cried out his name, her fingers digging into his back, grounding herself in the way he held her like she might slip through his fingers if he wasn't careful.
And Akihiko, breathless and trembling, kissed her like she was sacred.
"Please come back to me." he murmured into her skin. "I'll treasure you properly this time."
She cupped his face between her hands, pulling him in for a kiss that was both answer and confession.
"I'm already yours."
They stayed that way for a long time.
Collapsed together in the front seat, her cheek resting over his heart, his hand tangled in her hair as the stars gave way to the pale light of dawn.
There, in the car overlooking the city, their bodies warm from shared heat, their hearts stitched back together in the quiet aftermath, Ayaka finally allowed herself to believe it.
"I missed you..." he murmured against her skin. "Every night. Every breath."
Ayaka's head tilted back, overwhelmed by the feel of him, the smell of him—warm cologne, cotton and him.
She whispered, "Don't leave me again."
"Never." he vowed, kissing her fiercely. "You're mine. If you'll still have me."
Her fingers wove into his hair, pulling him back just enough to meet his eyes.
"I've always been yours." she said. "Even when you weren't here."
The way he looked at her in that moment—like she was sunlight after a long, cruel winter—stole every word from her chest.
Akihiko's voice was low, rough with want. "Then let me make it right."
And as he lifted her slightly onto the edge of the car hood, their bodies molded back together like they'd never been apart.
Lips met lips.
Hands mapped old, familiar places with reverence.
Every sigh, every shiver, every breath—they shared it.
Because this wasn't just a desire.
This was home.
When their lips finally parted, both breathless, he rested his forehead to hers once more.
"No more running." he whispered.
Ayaka nodded, tears still clinging to her lashes. "No more goodbyes."
Only then did they let the silence return—this time, not empty, but full.
Full of everything that had been unsaid.
Full of the promise that this time—they would hold on.