A rare quiet morning.
With a night shoot ahead, Jinwoo had gotten up early and hit the gym inside the building.
He tossed his damp workout clothes by the bathroom door and stepped straight into the shower.
Under the stream of hot water, he found his thoughts drifting—the strange tension between Daniel and Celeste all week still lingered in his mind.
It felt like something had happened between them.
Something neither of them was saying out loud.
And that silence was starting to get under his skin.
Then, just as he stepped out of the fogged-up bathroom, water trailing down his bare skin—
Beep.
The front door clicked open.
"Jinwoo—brought the fresh-off-the-press Japanese photobook—uh…"
It was Celeste. And for a second, she froze.
Her eyes moved on instinct—sweeping from his damp hair, clinging to his forehead, down over his sculpted features, flushed lips, and the heat still lingering in his eyes.
Then lower—broad shoulders, a firm chest, the sharp definition of abs glistening under soft light.
Water slid slowly down his torso, slipping past his waist—
And below that… nothing.
Completely bare.
Effortless. Confident.
Celeste forgot to blink.
He was unguarded, but not vulnerable.
He was present. Commanding. Raw.
"…Ah… sorry," she stammered, snapping her head away.
"Why is it always this exact kind of timing…"
She turned to leave, flustered—but Jinwoo was already behind her, one arm pulling her back with a quiet laugh.
"Always?"
He chuckled low, close to her ear. Then, without giving her a chance to escape, he scooped her up—gently—and laid her down on the bed.
His gaze met hers.
"This is the first time we've actually run into each other like this. Isn't it?"
He leaned closer. His tone shifted—deeper, quieter.
"…The weird air between you and Daniel lately…Was it something like this?"
She didn't answer.
The silence spoke for her.
"…So it's true."
His mouth found hers before she could speak.
At first, soft—then deeper. Warmer.
Breath caught between them, lips moving like they already knew what the other wanted.
She tried to protest, but his hands were already on her shirt, undoing the buttons with slow, confident ease.
His warmth pressed against her skin.
His breath skimmed her collarbone.
"Jinwoo… wait…"
Her voice was shaking.
But his hand had already slid down her waist—down the inside of her thigh, grazing bare skin.
He peeled away the last of her clothes, then kissed his way down her chest—like he knew every place her breath would stutter, every inch that would make her tremble.
His eyes didn't waver. Not for a second.
He parted her legs gently, and entered her in one smooth, deliberate motion.
Her breath hitched. Her back arched. And he moved with her—deep and steady, until they were lost in each other's rhythm.
"Look at me," he whispered, brushing her hair from her face.
She did. And when their eyes met, the rest of the world fell away.
"You're beautiful," he murmured against her lips.
"You're mine."
He thrust again, rougher this time, drawing a gasp from her mouth.
Their bodies moved together, desperate and tangled, the air filled with soft moans and the sound of skin against skin.
He pulled her in, arms firm around her, steady as the center of a storm.
"It's okay to tremble," he whispered, voice low and calm.
"That's what hearts do when they care too much."
His fingers brushed the small of her back—gentle, but grounding.
"But when you're with me… I want your eyes on me. No one else."
A beat. His gaze didn't waver.
"I come first. Always."
Celeste looked up, breath catching on her lips, her heart pounding in her chest.
And then—she gave a small, trembling nod.
Jinwoo's lips curved into a soft smile against her skin.
Then he kissed her—slow, deep, and sure—like he could protect her from the world just by keeping her in his arms.