Ethan's POV
I stood in the bathroom long after she left.
Water still dripping.
Steam still rising.
My body still trembling.
She had watched me.
Seen everything.
Heard everything.
And she didn't run.
Didn't scream.
Didn't close her eyes in horror.
She stood there.
Watched.
Tried to understand.
My little star.
My innocent, curious, confused little star.
---
I understood what was happening to her.
Better than she did.
This was her first time feeling lust.
First time in her entire life.
Eighteen years.
Soon nineteen.
And she had never felt desire until she saw me.
Through that glass.
Naked.
Wet.
All of me.
I knew what I looked like.
Knew the effect I had on women.
Had seen it my entire existence.
Eyes following.
Breaths catching.
Hands reaching.
But this was different.
This was her.
And the validation I felt watching her want me.
Watching her not understand what she wanted but wanting it anyway.
It was indescribable.
Satiating in ways nothing else had ever been.
---
But then the fear crept in.
Cold.
Ugly.
Unwelcome.
What if this was all she wanted?
What if the lust buried everything else?
What if the love I hoped for never had chance to grow?
I had used women before.
Many women.
Taken what they offered.
Felt their desire.
Left when I was done.
I knew how it felt to be wanted for a body.
For a face.
For a night.
It was empty.
Hollow.
Meaningless.
And now I understood.
Finally understood.
How those women must have felt.
The ones who wanted more.
The ones who hoped for something real.
The ones I discarded when I got what I needed.
---
I didn't want that with Meera.
Couldn't survive that with Meera.
If she used me for her awakening.
If she satisfied her curiosity with my body.
If she learned what she needed and then walked away.
It would destroy me.
Not my body.
Not my life.
Something deeper.
Something I didn't know I still had.
My heart.
The thing I thought died centuries ago.
The thing she resurrected without trying.
The thing that now beat only for her.
I would rather she never touched me.
Never satisfied that curiosity.
Never learned what her body could feel.
Than have her use me and leave.
Than have her lust bury the love I hoped would grow.
---
Two options.
I saw them clearly.
Keep myself off the table.
Create distance.
Let her desires cool.
Let her mind catch up to her body.
Let love have space to grow without lust clouding everything.
Or help her.
Guide her.
Show her what her body wanted.
Satisfy the curiosity burning in her eyes.
And risk her being done with me once she understood.
Once she learned.
Once she got what she came for.
I didn't know which was right.
Didn't know which would save us.
Didn't know which would doom us.
I needed more information.
Needed to understand what was happening in her head.
Not just her body.
Her mind.
Her heart.
Her soul.
---
I found her in the library.
Surrounded by books.
Pretending to read.
Her cheeks still pink.
Her eyes still avoiding mine.
I sat across from her.
Quiet.
Patient.
Waiting.
She looked up eventually.
"What?"
"I need to ask you something."
Her guard went up.
Immediately.
"What?"
"What do you know? About sex. About desire. About what happens between people."
She blinked.
Confused.
"Why?"
"Because I need to understand where you are. What you know. What you don't. So I know how to help you."
Her cheeks darkened further.
"I know the biology."
"From school?"
"Yes. Chapter in textbook. Sperm meets egg. Baby grows. That's it."
"That's all?"
She nodded.
Swallowed.
"My parents... they protected me. From everything. No movies with kissing. No TV shows with romance. No conversations about any of it. I didn't even know what lust was until—" She stopped. Looked away. "Until you."
---
My heart clenched.
Eighteen years.
Completely sheltered.
Completely innocent.
Completely unaware of half of human experience.
And now she was feeling everything at once.
For me.
Because of me.
"Meera."
She looked back.
"I didn't know what was happening to me. This morning. When I touched you. When I wanted to—" She couldn't finish.
"I know."
"I thought something was wrong. Medically wrong. I was going to ask you to take me to a doctor."
Pain.
Sharp.
Deep.
"I'm sorry. For making you feel that way."
"You didn't make me feel anything. My body just... started feeling things. After the shower. After seeing you. It's like something woke up that I didn't know was asleep."
"That's exactly what happened."
"Then why do I feel broken?"
I moved.
Kneeled in front of her.
Took her hands.
"You're not broken. You're waking up. Late, yes. But not broken. Never broken."
"Then why does it hurt?"
"Because desire hurts when it's not satisfied. When you don't understand it. When you want something you can't name."
---
She looked at our hands.
Her small brown ones in my larger ones.
"You understand this?"
"Yes."
"Because you've felt it before?"
"Many times."
"With other women?"
The question was quiet.
Careful.
Jealous underneath.
"Yes."
She pulled her hands back.
Looked away.
"I don't know why that bothers me."
"Because you're starting to feel possessive."
"Is that bad?"
"No. It's human."
She considered this.
Then softly.
"Tell me about them."
"Who?"
"The other women. What happened?"
I hesitated.
Didn't want to hurt her.
Didn't want to share this part of myself.
But she asked.
And I wouldn't lie.
Not anymore.
---
"I used them."
She looked at me.
"Used them how?"
"For my body. For theirs. For release. I never loved them. Never wanted more. They wanted things from me—commitment, attention, love—and I gave them nothing. Just my body. Just nights. Then I left."
She absorbed this.
Quiet.
Thinking.
"That sounds lonely."
"It was."
"For them?"
"For everyone."
She looked at me.
Really looked.
Seeing past the monster.
Past the killer.
Past the man who tortured in basements.
Seeing something else.
Something broken.
Something human.
"Is that why you're scared now?"
The question hit like a bullet.
"What?"
"You're scared I'll do the same. Use you for my curiosity. Satisfy this new thing in my body. Then leave."
I couldn't speak.
Couldn't breathe.
She saw.
She understood.
Without me explaining.
Without me telling.
She just... knew.
---
"I won't."
"Meera—"
"I don't know what I feel yet. I don't understand any of this. But I know I won't use you and leave. That's not who I am."
"You don't know that."
"Yes I do."
"How?"
"Because I've never used anyone in my life. Because hurting people hurts me. Because when I give myself to something, I give all of myself. Not part. Not temporary. All."
I stared at her.
My little star.
My innocent, fierce, impossible little star.
She had no idea.
No idea what she just gave me.
No idea that those words meant more than any touch.
More than any lust.
More than anything physical.
She was promising something deeper.
Something real.
Something lasting.
---
"I believe you."
"Good."
"But I still can't—" I stopped. Chose words carefully. "I can't give you what your body wants. Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because I need you to love me first."
She blinked.
"What?"
"I need your love. Not just your lust. Not just your curiosity. Not just your body waking up. I need you to choose me with your whole heart. Not just your hormones."
She considered this.
Long.
Careful.
"You're afraid I'll want you physically and then realize I don't love you."
"Yes."
"And that would hurt you."
"More than anything."
She reached out.
Touched my face.
Gentle.
Warm.
"I don't know if I love you yet. I don't know what love feels like. I've never felt it outside my family."
My heart cracked.
"But I know I'm not done with you. I know I want to keep knowing you. I know that when I'm not near you, I feel your absence. And when you held me last night, I felt safe for the first time in years."
"Meera—"
"That might not be love. But it's something. Something real. Something worth waiting for."
---
I closed my eyes.
Leaned into her touch.
Let her words wash over me.
She was giving me hope.
Real hope.
Not just physical.
Not just temporary.
Something that could grow.
Something that could last.
"Then we wait."
"Yes."
"Together."
"Yes."
"However long it takes."
"Yes."
I opened my eyes.
Looked at her.
At the girl who had never felt desire until me.
At the woman who was choosing to wait.
At the future I prayed every night would be mine.
"Thank you, little star."
"For what?"
"For wanting to love me. Not just want me."
She smiled.
Soft.
Genuine.
Beautiful.
"I don't know if I'll get there. But I want to try."
"That's all I ask."
---
She leaned forward.
Pressed her forehead to mine.
We stayed like that.
Breathing together.
Existing together.
Choosing each other.
Not as lovers.
Not yet.
As something more important.
As two people building something real.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Patiently.
I had waited months to be near her.
I could wait longer for her to love me.
However long it took.
Whatever it cost.
She was worth it.
She had always been worth it.
And someday.
When she was ready.
When she understood everything.
When love and lust finally united in her heart.
She would be mine.
Completely.
Willingly.
Forever.
Until then.
I would wait.
I would protect.
I would love her from a distance if I had to.
Because she was my little star.
And little stars were worth waiting for.