Todos os capítulos de Kiss me 2.1: Capítulo 101 - Capítulo 110

LinaThe bar is a living entity, pulsing with low music and muffled laughter. Amber lights sculpt dancing shadows on the brick walls, and the air is heavy with sweet perfumes, alcohol, and sweat. Each pulse of the bass seems to echo the accelerated rhythm of my heart. It was Théo who insisted on coming here, to "unwind." He doesn't know that for me, unwinding is a concept as foreign as peace.I sit on a worn velvet stool, the cold glass between my hands. Soda. Nothing else. I need all my wits tonight. My presence here is a calculation, a move on the invisible chessboard where Evan and I play our game. Accepting Théo's invitation was a way of signalling to him that his intimidation attempt at the café had failed. It was showing him that I am continuing my life.And then, I see them.Evan and Jade.They have just arrived, weaving through the crowd near the counter. Jade, radiant in a red dress, clinging to his arm. Evan, for his part, is already scanning the room. Our eyes meet. An elec

LinaThe sun pierces through the slats of the shutters, striping the bed with harsh bands of light. I have been awake for hours, motionless, eyes wide open staring at the ceiling. My body is a field of ruins. Every muscle aches, every nerve is raw, as if I had been beaten. But the worst wounds are invisible. They burn inside, shameful and deep.The night was a long waking nightmare. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him again. His silhouette in the shadows. His hand on my skin. The heat of his tongue. The sound of my own voice, broken by pleasure. I got up at dawn to take a second shower, cold this time, scrubbing my skin until it was pink and painful, trying to wash him off. In vain. The sensation is engraved. The smell of his soap, mixed with that of my own treacherous desire, seems ingrained in the walls.A noise in the hallway. Light footsteps. Jade.My heart clenches to a stop. Guilt rises, acidic, in my throat. I freeze, holding my breath, as if simply breathing might reveal my

LinaThe half-light envelops my room like a thick veil, filtering the last rays of the setting sun through the drawn curtains. The air is heavy, charged with an electric tension that makes me shiver despite the stifling heat. I sit on the edge of the bed, my fingers clenched on the rumpled fabric of my summer dress, too light, too transparent. Why did I put this one on? A stupid question. I know the answer. Because I knew. Because I wanted it.The door opens without a sound, as if the wood itself held its breath. My shoulders stiffen, but I do not turn around. I cannot. Not yet. Not before it's too late to retreat.His steps are muffled, almost imperceptible, but I feel them vibrate in every nerve ending of my body. He approaches. The scent of his cologne, woody, spicy, with that hint of cold tobacco that always makes my head spin, envelops me even before his fingers brush my bare shoulder. A simple touch, yet it's as if I've been electrocuted. My skin ignites. My breath catches.— Yo

LinaEvan's gaze pierces me even before his fingers brush my cheek. We are in my room, the air thick, charged with that tension that never leaves us. The walls seem too close, the bed behind me too present. Him, standing inches away, his shoulders stiff under his impeccable shirt, his jaw locked as if holding back something brutal. Me, back against the wall, the dress sticking to my damp skin, my heart beating at a rhythm that is anything but normal.He leans towards me. I smell his aftershave, wood and spice, that dark scent that always makes me falter.— Don't do that.His voice scrapes the back of my neck. A finger slides along my cheek, slowly, up to my chin which he lifts without gentleness, forcing me to meet his gaze.— Not now.I look away. Not out of provocation. Because if he looks at me too long, he'll see everything. The anger. The desire. This war tearing me apart.— I'm not doing anything.I lie. My voice trembles. He knows it.His lips brush my ear.— You're lying.A lo

LinaThe shock of the cold water hits me full force, but I don't increase the temperature. I deserve this punishment, this sharp, cutting pain. Warmth would be a caress, an indulgence. I don't deserve it.Water streams over my skin, over the places he touched, marked. I scrub. Hard. Too hard. The skin turns pink, then red, almost raw. But the sensation remains. The imprint of his hands, his weight, his desire. The memory of my own body that responded, that betrayed.I collapse against the cold tiles.The sobs come then, violent, convulsive. They shake me, empty me. They are nothing like the soft tears of sadness. They are tears of rage. Of hatred. Against him. Against myself most of all."Idiot. Weak. Whore."The words burst out between hiccups, whispered, screamed into the noise of the shower. I hurl them at myself like stones."You said no. YOU SAID NO."Why didn't my body listen? Why this flaw in me, this intimate treachery? The terror at the beginning… then that wave of obsessive