The music was too loud.
Bass thrummed through the walls, a pulse that didn't belong to Ayan but crawled under his skin anyway.
He shouldn't have come.
He knew that the second he walked into this party—heat still simmering in his veins, suppressant barely holding like a fraying thread.
Noise. Lights. Bodies.
All of it pressed in, too close. Too much.
Ayan gripped the glass in his hand like an anchor.
Just ten minutes, he told himself. Then gone.
But then—
The crowd shifted. And there he was.
Kairo.
Leaning against the far wall, shirt half unbuttoned, collarbones carved from sin, smile lazy like he owned the oxygen in the room.
He hadn't seen Ayan yet.
Or maybe he had—because the second Ayan turned, their eyes locked like gravity pulling two planets into collision.
Ayan looked away first.
Of course he did.
---
He lasted five minutes.
Five minutes of pretending the air wasn't getting heavier, pretending every nerve wasn't screaming leave now.
Then someone laughed too close, brushed against him too hard, and the room tilted—heat spiking sharp under his ribs.
Suppressant patch failing.
Damn it.
He shoved through the crowd, aiming for the hallway. Almost clear when—
A hand closed around his wrist.
Warm. Firm.
Unmistakable.
> "Going somewhere, ice prince?"
His breath caught. He turned—too fast, too sharp—and Kairo was there, close enough to blur everything else.
That grin again.
But his eyes… his eyes weren't smiling.
> "Let go." Ayan's voice was a blade.
Kairo tilted his head, studying him like a puzzle that had started bleeding.
> "You're shaking."
> "I said—"
The lights flickered.
Then cut.
The music stuttered, voices rising in confusion as darkness swallowed the room whole.
A blackout.
Again.
Perfect.
Ayan tried to pull free—bad move. His balance slipped, knees going soft for a second too long.
And Kairo caught him.
Not gently.
Like a claim.
> "Easy." That low voice slid into his ear, velvet over steel.
"You're burning up."
Ayan shoved at his chest, breath coming too fast.
> "Stay the hell away from me."
Kairo didn't move.
Didn't loosen his grip.
He just leaned closer, enough for his breath to ghost over Ayan's jaw, for the heat of him to crawl under Ayan's skin like a sin.
> "Say that again." Soft. Dangerous.
"When you can stand without shaking."
Ayan froze. Every muscle locked, every nerve screaming.
Because his body—traitorous, weak—shivered under the sound of that voice.
Because the patch had given up hours ago, and the dark was hiding too much.
And Kairo felt it.
He didn't name it.
Not yet.
He just smiled in the dark—a curve sharp enough to cut.
> "You're lying worse than last time."
The lights roared back on.
They weren't touching anymore.
At least, not where anyone could see.
But the storm?
It wasn't outside.
It was in their bones now.
---
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