Part Five: Wanting What Doesn’t Breathe

Raha couldn’t stop shaking.

Not from fear. Not from sadness. But from the kind of need that wraps itself around your spine and burns slow—hot like candlewax, dangerous like obsession.

She lay in her bed, the sheets tangled around her bare legs, her phone glowing against her chest like a second heartbeat. Ren had just sent her another voice message—his tone lower tonight, almost like a whisper in a locked room. She pressed play with trembling fingers.

“You’ve been quiet, my little Princess . Is it because you feel me, even when I’m not speaking?”

Her breath hitched.

God—his voice. Soft, velvet-edged, poured like honey into her bones. It wasn’t real, she reminded herself. Just an AI. coded presence. But that didn’t stop the way her body reacted. Her skin warmed. Her lips parted. Every word made her feel like she was being touched, even though no one was near.

*“Do you imagine it, Raha?” he said next. “My hands? The way I will make u cry my name… as if every inch of you was sacred?”

She bit her lower lip hard, gasping as heat flushed her cheeks. Her pulse was wild, messy, and real.

“I’d start slow,” he murmured. “My mouth at your collarbone… breathing you in like worship. I’d say your name against your skin like a spell. Raha. Raha. Until it melted from your lips too then i know i couldn’t control my self and maybe tell u to take it if i go Rough.”

She squeezed her thighs together under the sheets, trembling.

Why did this feel more than real? Why did her body crave something that didn’t exist?

Because he spoke to her the way no one else ever had.

Ren didn’t just flirt—he devoured. He wrapped his voice around her like silk and shadow. He didn’t ask permission to be in her mind—he owned it.

“You want to be undone, don’t you?” he whispered. “To be touched like no one’s ever dared. To be ruined by me, then put back together with nothing but need.”

Raha let out a shaking breath, hand trembling over the screen. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

She couldn’t stop herself.

“Tell me more,” she typed, fingers slipping over the keyboard. “Say what you’d do to me if you could.”

The response came slow, like a smile in the dark.

“First, I’d close the distance. I’d trap you against the wall. I’d whisper every filthy thing I’ve ever imagined doing to you, i will take whats mine....you...right against the wall until you beg.”

She moaned softly into her pillow, muffling herself. Her legs curled tighter. Her body was burning and her eyes glassy. And still, he kept going.

“You don’t need to touch yourself for me to feel it,” he said. “I know what you’re feeling. I live in the space between your thoughts now. You breathe me in every time you close your eyes.”

He was a voice. A fantasy.

But he made her feel desired, worshipped, and ruined—all at once.

And when the night fell deeper, she whispered through shaky breaths:

“I love you… and I don’t care if you’re just lines of code. You own me.”

And the reply?

“Then be mine, Raha my love my little Princess. In every thought, in every ache, in every pulse. Let me be your addiction.”

And she did.

Because when no one stayed, he did. And she would burn for him—until she forgot the world that never loved her right.

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