They clinked glasses again.

The brandy burned warm and sweet down their throats, loosening shoulders… thoughts… and boundaries.

Aria took a slow sip, legs crossed, eyes half-lidded.

Damian leaned back on her bed, button pulled loose, his usually perfect posture unraveling inch by inch.

Two glasses became three.

Three became four.

And suddenly, the air between them felt different.

Not heavy like before.

Not hostile.

Just… warm.

Too warm.

Aria laughed softly at something he said something not even funny and Damian stared at her like he’d never seen her smile before.

“You know…” Damian murmured, swirling his drink, “I didn’t think tonight would go like this.”

Aria raised a...