No no no no no—
I declined the call like my thumb was on fire and placed the phone face-down. I could feel Aaron watching me.
"Who was that?" he asked, too calm.
I forced a smile. "My landlady. She's… persistent. Wants to check in like five times a day."
He nodded slowly, like he was trying to believe me. "Hm."
RING RING. RING RING.
God.
He was calling again. What the hell was wrong with this man? Was he trying to kill me?
I shut it off again, heart slamming behind my ribs.
Aaron raised a brow. "You should pick it up."
"I—It's nothing serious," I tried. "She just… wants to nag about the mailbox or something—"
"Then pick it."
I opened my mouth to protest, but he added, voice firmer, "You keep flinching like it's a bomb."
I shot up from my chair, gripping my phone. "I'll just take it outside, I don't want to disturb you—"
"You're not disturbing me," he said, leaning back in his seat. "Take it here."
My stomach twisted.
No out. No escape. No lie to crawl into.
With shaking fingers, I lifted the phone and accepted the call.
"Hello?"
There was a pause on the other end before that smooth, amused voice came through.
"Aw, look who finally picked up. You out with your imaginary boyfriend? Since it's late, I thought I'd check in. You alright?"
I could feel Aaron's eyes burning holes into my soul.
I laughed. Bad choice. I sounded like I was choking.
"…Yeah. I'm just... out. Having dinner."
I said, voice straining. "Can I call you back later?"
"Are you being held at gunpoint?"
"What? No"
"You gonna be back late?"
"I don't know yet."
"Are you sure-"
I cut him off before he could even tease more. "Okay. Thank you. Bye."
I ended the call and lowered my phone slowly, putting it on silent while forcing a smile back at Aaron like nothing had just happened.
He was watching me like a hawk.
"You know I don't like being lied to."
His voice wasn't raised. It was soft. Calm. Measured.
Which, somehow, made it ten times worse.
I froze mid-breath, eyes flicking up to meet his.
He was leaning slightly forward now, hands folded, gaze unreadable. Not angry. Not accusing. Just… waiting.
My stomach dropped.
"I—" I began, but my voice came out as more of a croak than anything else. I cleared my throat. "I swear, it was my landlady."
His silence didn't shift. It pressed. Like a weight on my chest.
I forced a small laugh, trying to smile. "She just… nags a lot. Wants updates on everything. It's like living under a tiny surveillance system with menopause."
God. Shut up, Kina.
Inside, my mind was clawing at itself.
He's just a roommate. Just a roommate.
I barely know him. He just… lives there. Sleeps on the couch. That's all.
Okay, maybe he's good looking. And flirty. And sometimes shirtless.
And… okay, yes, we fell asleep together once. And I assisted him with bathing. And sort of maybe almost saw me pee.
But it's not cheating. I haven't done anything.
He's just… inconvenient. A very muscular, invasive inconvenience.
Aaron was still staring.
Before I could combust completely, the server glided up beside us with practiced grace. "Excuse me, your meals."
She laid the dishes in front of us like she was handling rare artwork. And it almost made me gag, not because it smelled bad. Because I couldn't remember how to eat right now.
Aaron turned his gaze to the server, breaking eye contact with me for the first time in what felt like a century.
She poured more wine into our glasses.
Aaron gently nudged mine toward me. "Here," he said simply.
And I drank.
All of it.
One big, regret-filled gulp.
Because maybe if I drowned myself in wine and shame fast enough, I could make it through the rest of the night without accidentally confessing I was harboring a blood-soaked, possibly unhinged criminal on my couch.
Maybe.
****
I didn't remember how I got out of the restaurant exactly.
One minute I was weeping into truffle potatoes, the next… air. Motion. Strong arms. Expensive cologne and a pulse I knew too well.
Aaron was carrying me.
I think I muttered something about carrying my shame too, but he didn't respond. Just held me tighter and muttered instructions to someone I couldn't see.
The car ride was quiet. For him.
I? Was chaos.
I sobbed into his shoulder, whispered things I'd never meant to say out loud. Told him I'd never learned how to breathe right in this world. Told him I hated the way mirrors made me feel. Told him I used to pretend I was someone else entirely, anyone but me.
He didn't say anything.
He didn't have to.
Because the next thing I knew… soft lights. A hotel room. Cold air.
Aaron set me down gently, like I was something breakable. His hands left me too quickly, and I panicked. I clutched the sleeve of his coat.
"Wait... wait, don't go," I hiccupped, tears sliding hot and fast now. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be like this. I just—"
He froze, looking down at me.
And I shattered.
"I think something's wrong with me," I whispered, hands fisting the sheets as my legs tucked to my chest. "It has to be. I try so hard. All the time. Every day. I fix things. I smile. I pretend. But I still ruin everything. People either hate me or pity me. I'm like... I'm like an alien trying to pretend to be normal and it's not working."
"Kina-"
"Maybe you don't even like me," I breathed, voice breaking as I looked up at him. "You just… feel bad. Maybe you see this sad, pathetic little thing and you want to protect it but you don't love it. You couldn't possibly love me."
And then the worst part.
I grabbed his shirt, his crisp, expensive shirt, and pulled him closer, eyes wide and wet, lips trembling.
"Do you?" I asked him, desperate and messy. "Do you love me at all? Even a little?"
He went still.
And that silence?
It cut through me like a scalpel.
My breath cracked. "I guess not," I whispered, voice trembling. "Of course not."
But before I could spiral again, his hand caught my face, fingertips trembling for the first time ever, and he leaned in so close his lips brushed the shell of my ear.
"I don't love people," he whispered, voice like gravel and silk. "I don't like them. I barely tolerate them. But you..." his breath hitched, and for once, he sounded human, raw, vulnerable..."I would never keep someone like you this close unless I felt something."
I couldn't breathe.
"I do," he said. "I do feel something for you, Kina."
And then he kissed me, deeply, slowly and painfully.
Like it hurt him to hold back and it hurt more to give in.
And I let him.
Because for the first time that night… I didn't feel like I was falling apart.
I felt like maybe… maybe I was seen.
His mouth moved against mine slowly and controlled, like he was holding back something unholy. Something that wanted to devour me.
And I wanted to be devoured.
His hands slipped from my face, ghosting down the sides of my neck, over my arms, until they were gripping my waist. Hard. Possessive. Like he couldn't believe I was real.
I gasped when he deepened the kiss, when his tongue met mine and all my thoughts scattered like a broken mirror.
My arms looped around his neck without me realizing. My thighs clenched, my body arching toward him, begging without words.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at me, his chest rising and falling like he'd just run ten miles. His lips were red from the kiss. His eyes? Hooded. Hungry.
"Say it again," he rasped, voice thick. "Tell me I don't feel anything for you."
I blinked up at him, dazed and aching. "I—I didn't mean it-"
He kissed me again.
Rougher.
Fingers gripping under my thighs, yanking me flush against him. And god, I could feel him. Hard, hot, pressed against the thin fabric of my dress. It made me whimper.
He chuckled low in his throat. "You're drunk," he murmured, lips grazing my jaw. "But I think I'm drunker. On you."
I would've laughed if I wasn't so wrecked by how good he smelled, how warm his mouth felt trailing down to my neck.
He kissed the place below my ear, where I was softest. "You drive me insane, Kina."
His hands roamed, palms gliding up my thighs, finding the skin under my dress. My breath caught. My hips rolled on instinct.
"Aaron, " I breathed.
His hand stilled.
"I've wanted you like this," he whispered, "since the day you walked into that building looking like a lost angel. All wide eyes and trembling hands."
I shivered.
He kissed me again, and this time, I kissed him back with everything, everything I didn't have words for. My body begged, my hands clawed at his shirt, my thighs parted on reflex when he shifted on top of me.
We were right there. Hovering on that edge, slipping closer,
I gasped softly, barely able to hold onto the moment, his mouth on my skin, his body pressing down on mine.
Everything felt warm. Too warm. My head spun.
I tried to say his name.
"Aar—"
Darkness wrapped me up in velvet.
***
"Kina?"
Her body stilled beneath him.
"Kina?"
He paused. Pulled back. Her lashes fluttered once more before her head lolled slightly to the side, her breathing slowing into a soft, sleepy rhythm.
He stared down at her in disbelief.
"…You've got to be fucking kidding me."
She had passed out. Right there. Mid-tension. Mid-everything. Just like that.
Aaron sat back slowly, muscles tight, his arousal throbbing like a cruel joke.
He exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand down his face, then looked at her, soft, flushed, hair sticking to her damp skin, chest rising and falling like nothing had happened.
"Next time," he muttered, eyes narrowing slightly as he adjusted her dress and pulled a blanket over her trembling body, "I'm not letting you off the hook that easy."