Morning came too soon.
Klan woke to the soft gray light filtering through the curtains, his body tangled in sheets that smelled faintly of sweat and Kael. For a moment, he didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Because if he opened his eyes and saw Kael lying beside him, this wouldn't feel like a dream anymore.
Slowly, he turned his head.
Kael was there.
Fast asleep, his dark hair messy against the pillow, his features soft in the dim light. Without the weight of the stage, the cameras, the world—he looked almost vulnerable. Almost human.
Klan's chest ached.
Last night came crashing back in fragments—Kael's voice, raw and desperate; the way his hands trembled when they touched him; the heat of his lips, his breath, his words.
You're mine.
Klan bit his lip hard, his heart twisting painfully. Because as much as every part of him wanted to stay here, like this, reality was waiting outside that door, sharp and cruel.
If anyone found out… everything they had worked for would burn.
He sat up slowly, wincing at the soreness in his body, and began gathering his clothes from the floor. Kael stirred behind him.
"Klan."
The sound of his name in that voice—deep, rough with sleep—froze him in place.
Kael sat up, the sheets falling around his waist, revealing the hard lines of his chest. His amber eyes locked on Klan, still heavy with sleep but burning in a way that made Klan's breath hitch.
"You're leaving?" Kael's voice was quiet, but there was something sharp under the softness.
Klan swallowed hard, gripping his shirt in trembling hands. "We can't… Kael, last night—"
"Last night was real," Kael cut in, his tone fierce. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, closing the space between them in two strides. His hand caught Klan's wrist, gentle but firm. "Don't you dare tell me it wasn't."
Klan's eyes burned. "I'm not saying that. I just—" His voice cracked. "You know what this means if anyone finds out."
Kael's jaw tightened. "I don't care."
"Well, I do!" Klan burst out, his voice trembling as tears pricked his eyes. "You're the leader. You can survive a scandal. But me? I'll be destroyed, Kael. I'll lose everything."
Kael stared at him, his chest heaving. For a long, agonizing moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Kael pulled him into his arms, holding him so tightly Klan could barely breathe. "You won't lose me," he murmured against his hair, voice breaking. "No matter what happens."
Klan stood there, shaking, his fists clutching Kael's hoodie. And for a few seconds, he let himself believe those words.
But reality always wins.