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San had been through a lot—gym brawls, soul-sucking part-time jobs, and even worse ex-roommates. But nothing could've prepared him for the sight of Hyme that night.
The boy wasn't just attractive—he was ethereal.
Dressed in a slim-cut white tux with silver accents and a shimmering sash that trailed like mist behind him, Hyme looked more like a royal spirit than a half-cat teenager. His ears were pinned back with delicate moonstone clips, and his tail was gently curled behind him in practiced elegance.
San's breath caught.
For the first time, it wasn't about money or obligation. He wanted to grab Hyme and pull him into his arms, hold him tight—maybe even... kiss him. The thought made his face burn, and he quickly looked away, clenching his fists in his lap.
"Wow," he whispered under his breath, just as Hyme turned around.
"Did you say something?" Hyme asked sweetly, tilting his head.
San coughed. "Nope. Just choking on air."
Hyme raised a brow, ears flicking knowingly—but he played innocent. "Hm. Be careful. We don't want the poor human fainting before the gala starts."
They got into the luxurious black car waiting outside. San sat rigid, stealing glances at Hyme from the corner of his eye. The boy was basking in moonlight through the tinted glass, almost glowing.
Hyme noticed every glance, of course. Hybrid cats were built to read attention. His tail twitched slightly, but he kept his face neutral, basking silently in the power he held.
They arrived.
As the car door opened, San hesitated for a beat—then reached out, took Hyme's hand, and helped him out like a proper gentleman. Hyme's ears twitched slightly, but he allowed it.
Hand in hand, they stepped into the ballroom.
Whispers swept across the crowd like wildfire. San's broad shoulders, strong presence, and the stunning feline boy at his side turned every head in the room. A few hybrid females narrowed their eyes with jealousy. Some humans gasped outright. But the cameras loved them.
After brief greetings with elite hybrid nobles—foxes, bats, even a bored-looking wolf-lord—the music started.
Hyme tensed slightly. Dancing had always felt like a performance for him.
But before he could take a breath, San stepped closer and held out a hand.
"I thought you didn't know how to dance," Hyme murmured.
San only smirked. "I lied."
With a gentle tug, San pulled Hyme into his arms, one hand slipping naturally to his waist. Hyme's heart skipped, but he allowed himself to be led. Slowly, they moved across the floor, bodies in sync.
It was nothing like their practice session. This time, San moved with purpose.
And then—softly, like it had always been meant to happen—San brushed a hand up Hyme's cheek and pressed a gentle kiss to his other cheek.
A hush rippled through the crowd. Then came the click-click-click of media frenzy.
Hyme's ears stood up immediately in embarrassment. His tail curled in a frantic wiggle as he tried to recover his posture.
"Y-You did that in front of everyone," he whispered furiously.
San just smiled. "You're cute when you're mad."
Hyme's cheeks turned a brighter pink, but he held his head high and danced through the rest of the night like royalty.
The gala ended in a wave of applause, whispers, and far too many photos.
Before they left, an elegant hybrid diplomat approached them with a formal invitation.
"A conference in ten days," she said. "To discuss hybrid-human relations. We believe your presence will… inspire hope."
Hyme accepted with a princely nod. San just blinked, wondering when he became a political symbol.
Once back in the car, the silence between them buzzed.
San was still warm from the dancing, his hand tingling from the cheek kiss. He leaned back with a sigh, unsure of what to say.
Hyme, however, leaned in closer.
Their shoulders touched.
San turned slowly.
Hyme's eyes were locked on his—soft, golden, glowing slightly in the dark.
"I…" Hyme's voice dropped. "I wanted to—"
He began to lean in, lips parted, face inches from San's.
And then—
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRING.
San's phone blared loudly from his pocket.
Both froze.
Hyme's tail jerked like it had been electrocuted. "You're kidding me."
"I—hold on—" San fumbled for his phone. "It's my landlord."
Hyme leaned back, crossing his arms, ears flat against his head in sheer offense.
"I was about to kiss you."
San gawked. "You were?!"
Hyme narrowed his eyes. "You're so dense."
San blinked. "Wait… wait, don't pout. I'll hang up—"
"Too late." Hyme turned to the window, cheeks burning.
San sighed, still not sure if he should laugh or panic.
He hadn't planned on falling for a spoiled kitten prince.
But damn it… it was starting to feel a lot like love.
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