Kai's POV
Avoiding Zane is the answer. The best choice. The only way. If not...I'd get burned by the flame he holds in him. I'd get caught up again. And in the end, I'll suffer a painful punishment and consequence.
My past with him barely hang in my memory a year ago, but when I saw him in my sister's photos—everything came back to me. Like seawater to the shore. Like sunset. Like sunrise. Like rain. It was like a cycle. Like it's meant to be like that. Like I have no right to even forget a single moment I had with him—be with positive or negative.
"Sir, Miss Kei called. She wants you to call her back."
My forehead creased as I looked at the maid when I entered the house. I had to finish some paperwork, so I worked overtime. "She can just call me."
"Sir, she said you couldn't be reached."
I sighed. "I'll call her right away."
I ascended the staircase, and went straight to my room. I didn't bother changing, and just grabbed my phone. However, the battery was drained. That's why.
I charged my phone, and called Kei through the landline in my room.
[Hello?] Her voice was a bit hoarse.
I scratched my forehead. "I'm sorry. I worked overtime, and I didn't notice my battery was drained. Is something wrong?"
[Kai…] She sobbed, alarming me. Hearing her cries makes my chest tighten.
"What's wrong, Kei?"
[I-It's Zane…]
My throat went dry as my heart raced in panic. I didn't see him when I got home. I heard from Melissa earlier that he left early. What.... Did something happen to him?
It's been a few days since we sparred in the gym, and ever since that day—I avoided him. I know that he can feel it, but I need to protect myself from a possible emotional harm. I'd end up breaking my heart once again if I don't distance myself.
I inhaled sharply. "What is it? What happened to him?"
[We…we had argument. I told him that I already contacted a wedding planner, and he got angry. I don't know why… He wasn't like this, Kai. Whenever we talk about marriage, he would always support me, but today…today he got angry.]
I swallowed hard. Something bitter and painful got stuck in my throat. My lips trembled, and I suddenly want to end the call.
"Just…talk to him tomorrow."
[No! I won't be able to sleep tonight, Kai. I feel like he's seeing someone else. I'm scared and I'm upset and…I-I don't know anymore.]
My fists balled. Why do I have to get involved with him again?
[Please find out why he's acting like that, Kai. For me. I don't wanna lose him. I love him so much.]
I bit my bottom lip. "I'll…do something. I'll contact you again soon, so go to bed. I'll handle this."
[Thank you, Kai. I trust you with this.]
When the call ended, I squeezed my eyes. She trusts me…without knowing that my heart yearns for her fiancee's love.
I descended the stairs again, and called the maid to ask where Zane is. I checked his room before going down, but he wasn't there.
"He left almost three hours ago, Sir. He looked…angry."
I took a deep sigh. "I'll go find him. Don't tell dad and Kei about this."
"Yes, Sir…"
Unmarried people go to club when angry or facing problems—that's a common, so I searched the clubs nearby to find him. It took me almost an hour until I finally found him in a high-end club. Alone in a private room.
"He's already drunk, Sir. You're just in time, since we thought about calling a taxi to send him home."
I looked at the manager. "Thank you. I'll take it from here."
I watched Zane sitting on the couch after the manager left. His head was bowed, legs parted, arms dead on his sides. Unmoving, he sat there, completely defenseless.
Slowly, the distance between us shortened as I walked towards him. I feel stupid because every step comes with a heavy drumbeat of my heart.
Messy hair. First three buttons open. I groaned.
"Hey!" I kicked his left leg.
His head bobbed, before it lifted. I was taken aback when his drunk eyes caught mine. Thirst surged.
"Let's go." I clenched my jaws, trying so hard to resist the stupid urge to kiss him,
He said I can never taste his lips, but now that he's like this—I can easily steal a kiss.
F-ck! What am I even thinking?
He chuckled—low and precise, even when drunk. "I'm sorry for…liking you."
My eyes widened as my chest tightened. I suddenly felt suffocated.
His wet and red lips twitched. "That's what you said….when you were drunk…."
I inhaled sharply—ashamed of myself.
I said that?
"Let's go home, Zane!" I growled, and grabbed his wrist with an attempt to pull him up, but he was the one who pulled me.
Heat consumed my whole as my brain fell into a turmoil. I felt his large hands on my waist—warm and possessive.
My body tensed even more when I felt him sniffed my neck as he chuckled. "You smelled nice…"
"You don't know what you're doing, Zane!" I pushed myself from his body, but he suddenly pinned me on the couch.
My eyes widened as he parted my legs and settled between them. I thought he'd kiss my lips, but he didn't. Instead, he buried his face in my neck and started sniffing me again.
My lips trembled, and unexplainable heat surged in my body. Every sniff gives me goosebumps. Every fan of his breath steals my breath.
"Z-Zane…"
"You don't know what you did…" He whispered with a hint of a grudge. "And you're acting like a complete b-tch."
"Get f-cking off!" I pushed his shoulders, but he's too strong—or was I too weak?
"You're avoiding me… I should be glad, but I can't." He whispered. Every word felt like a poison—terrorizing my sanity. "It pissed me off…"
My forehead creased as confusion filled me. I don't know what's his problem. It's impossible that he grew to like me because I clearly remember him hat
My hands are now weak and defenseless as he continued sniffing me, and my body betrayed me when I started burning in intense l*st.
He suddenly lifted his body, and I inhaled a mouthful of air when he suddenly removed his shirt.
"What the hell, Zane!"
His laughter broke—not because of my reaction but because of something else.
His drunk eyes locked with mine as he pointed something on his chest. "You see this?"
My forehead creased as my eyes followed the tip of his finger—pointing at the tattoo on his chest.
"I got this…." He groaned, and pointed his finger against my forehead as if he's so angry about the tattoo. "It's because of you!"
"What?" My heart just won't calm down. The urge to kiss him right now is too strong. I want to taste his lips. I want to feel him, and I'm going crazy.
He stared at me with eyes so drunk—both from alcohol and desire.
I panicked when his eyes dropped on my slightly parted lips. I s-cked my breath, and attempted to push him, but it's too late.
My palms against his chest—in attempt to push him, suddenly felt weak. It settled against his warm and hard chest—unmoving.
My eyes were wide open as I felt the softness of his lips against mine—brushing. No rush. His lips grazed mine in a slow rhythm—completely opposite to my raging heartbeat—fast, sharp, and passionate.
And just like that, I found my eyes closing—accepting his sweet kisses. Light, tender, no rush. As if kissing is natural. As if our past doesn't matter. As if we don't hate each other.
The kiss was slow—but burning me, making me tremble, stealing my breath, taking all my inhibitions, and bargaining everything I have.