ry ᡣ𐭩

You’ve noticed how Matt’s been eyeing you all night. He’s the triplet brother of a friend of yours, which naturally makes him your friend too. Kind of. You’ve barely talked, mostly because you try your best to avoid him. Exchanging a few words is enough to make you nervous, and you’d rather not embarrass yourself in front of a guy you think is cute.

Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder, interrupting you from your thoughts. Your heart begins to pound as you suddenly realize how dark the hallway is and how alone you are right now with the stranger behind you. You’re in an unfamiliar house, dressed skimpily, and you’re not even sober. Who knows what could happen.

You turn around slowly, eyes wide in fear and surprise, and thankfully find yourself face to face with Matt Sturniolo.

At first you almost think the alcohol is making you hallucinate since you’ve just been thinking about him, but then he starts speaking and you know you’re not going crazy over some guy you barely know.

"You okay?" Matt asks, tilting his head ever so slightly, eyes darting down to your lips before finding your eyes again.

You blink, lips parting but no words coming out. You stare at him for a while, at how effortlessly good he looks. The tattoos scattered across his left arm, peeking out from under his rolled up sleeves, makes your stomach flip with sudden arousal.

He’s dressed up as a mime, face painted as one too. Wearing a black-and-white striped shirt, black pants with red suspenders, a black beret on top of his head with his pretty brown curls sticking out from the back, and a red scarf around his neck.

In short, he looks fucking edible. Even as a mime.

Only when you get to the bottoms of his suspenders do you realize you’ve been wordlessly checking him out for a solid minute. Your face heats up when you look up to find him already looking at you with mirth in his eyes, his pretty pink lips curled up slightly at the corners in amusement.

"You done looking?" He teases, chuckling softly.

"Sorry-" You stammer, running a hand through your hair as you try to fix yourself subconsciously. "I, uh, I’m fine. I just needed to get out of there. Felt nauseous." You awkwardly answer his first question, which you didn’t answer because you were too busy drooling over him.

Matt hums. "Yeah, t’was a lot in there."

While you try your best to think of something else to say, Matt lets his eyes drink you in. The costume you have on is absolute sin. Something that’d be considered too revealing if it wasn’t a college Halloween party. You look too fucking good—and Matt doesn’t know if he can continue talking to you without sporting a boner.

He’s always been into you. He thinks you’re pretty. The way you laugh is cute. The little habits of yours that you don’t seem to realize makes him want to keep looking at you so he’d notice even more.

It’s safe to say that he’s smitten.

He wants to get to know you, but he’s usually too cowardly to even strike up a conversation. He probably comes off as nonchalant whenever he interacts with you, but he’s freaking out inside every time and doesn’t know what to really say or do.

But thankfully for him, the concoction of beer and whatever alcohol he sipped throughout the night seems to give him a surge of confidence, hence why he followed you here in the first place.

"Hey... You said you’re feeling nauseous, right? I think I can help."

But maybe he’s getting overly confident because he would never say the words coming out of his mouth if he was sober.

"Maybe it’s ’cause you moved too much with alcohol in your system." Matt grabs your wrist gently. "Let’s go to the bathroom."

"What?" You ask dumbly, but you let him pull you along without much protest.

The bathroom door clicks behind you and you lean back against the sink as Matt locks the door, his back turned towards you. The mime costume he has on is intended to be humorous rather than sexy, but when it’s Matt everything looks ten times sexier than it is.

Matt’s eyes immediately find yours when he turns around to face you, his pretty blue orbs all dark with unadulterated desire and hunger. His dick’s already stirring in his pants at the sight of you leaning against the sink so effortlessly gorgeous, the tiny skirt you have on riding up your thighs.

The air is charged with sexual tension that’s been accumulating for as long as you’ve known each other. You’re both painfully aware of the fact that you’re in a bathroom together, the door locked and everyone else either drunk or tipsy on the dance floor.

And the fact that the bathroom doesn’t have an overhead light like any other bathrooms and instead the only light source being a lamp connected to the wall beside the mirror above the sink made the atmosphere a lot more intimate.

Matt steps forward, getting in your space, his eyes trailing down to your lips before snapping back up. The pretty blue of his irises are almost completely overtaken by the dilation of his pupils—showing just how much you affect him.

You don’t really know who moved first but before you knew it your lips were moving against Matt’s with hunger so great it took your breath away for a moment. Matt uses your soft gasp to his advantage and slips his tongue in, tangling it with yours as one of his hands moves to the back of your head to cradle it.

The kiss lasted until you had to push him back for breath, but he didn’t move too far. His lips are just inches away from yours, breaths mingling. Your chest heave with ragged breaths, lips all swollen and slick with your shared saliva.

Matt doesn’t let you pull away for too long though. His lips crash against yours again before you can fully catch your breath. His hands roam over your body, dipping down to knead the flesh of your ass that he’s been fantasizing about touching ever since he’s met you.

His kisses grow sloppier as seconds pass and he pulls back to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, sucking and nipping gently at the sensitive skin there. The soft moans and whimpers escaping your lips makes his cock throb desperately in his pants.

You thought he’d stop just at kissing your neck, but he trails down until he’s kneeling on the bathroom floor in front of you. The sight of him looking up at you, his face so close to where you need him the most, sends a jolt of arousal straight to your core.

You can barely hear the music—bathroom by montell fish—blasting outside the bathroom door as blood rushes to your ears from how fast your heart is beating.

"Can I?" Matt asks, all breathy and utterly wrecked on his knees for you.

The feeling of his hands sliding up your bare thighs makes you shudder, and you nod before you can even get a breathy yes out.

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s pulling the tiny skirt of your costume up around your waist, his slender fingers deftly pulling your thong down your legs until it’s around your ankles.

Matt’s breath hitches at the sight of your pussy—already glistening with your juices. He leans closer until his face is just inches away from your core, breathing the scent of your arousal in as he spreads your pussy lips open with his thumbs, watching your hole contract around nothing.

When he finally tastes you for the first time, licking a long, slow stripe up your folds, he knows he’s addicted.

It doesn’t take long for Matt to drown in your cunt, licking and sucking like he can’t get enough. Like you’re the most delicious thing he’s tasted. Which isn’t far from the truth. You taste good enough for him to moan into your pussy.

Your hips twitch against his face, lips parted in an “o” shape as you look down at him devouring you from below. The look on his face is enough to make your stomach flip. He looks like he’s in heaven. His brows knitted together, nose pressing against your mound, hands gripping your thighs so tightly you’re sure it’d leave marks.

He doesn’t let you pull away when you grow close, in fact, his grip grows tighter on your thighs and his mouth grows more relentless—more hungry.

And God, when he looks up at you as you moan his name so broken and breathless, you feel your knees buckle.

Something about the way he’s looking at you while he’s eating your pussy like he’s the one feeling pleasure from it makes that taut coil in your stomach snap so abruptly you can’t help but gasp and hold his head against your core.

Your thighs shake around his head, back arching, jaw going slack and eyes rolling back in your skull as you throw your head back against the mirror above the sink with a dull thud, coming apart on his tongue with a loud outdrawn moan.

The white-hot pleasure burning through your nerves is one you’ve never felt before. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. This is probably the hardest you’ve come in your life. No one’s ever made you feel this good—with their mouth no less.

Matt doesn’t stop until you’re pushing his head back, whimpering as overstimulation creeps in. He pulls back just enough for you to let out a shuddering sigh, and he slumps against you subtly. His cheek rests against the top of your thigh just beside your mound, chest heaving with ragged breaths.

A few quiet minutes pass by as you both catch your breaths, the only sounds in the bathroom being the soft pants coming from the two of you and the song from the Halloween party outside the bathroom drifting in muffled.

Disappointment replaces the ecstacy you felt just minutes prior as the delicious buzzing in your system disappears with your high. You need it again. You can’t get enough. And this time, you want to feel him, but you’re not sure how to ask-

"Hey..." Matt murmurs suddenly, looking up at you, his mime makeup slightly smudged just above his eyebrows from you trying to push his head away. "Wanna keep going?"

Seems like the night’s just begun.

© 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏

you shield your eyes with the covers, and he pulls them right back off. “what do you even want? it's three thirty in the morning.” keigo laughs awkwardly and leans back on his hands. “you're really gonna fucking hate me after i tell you.”

“spit it out. now.” you demand from under the blankets. “i hypothetically could've been trying to fly back home and hypothetically may have crashed and fallen into a few bushes and may have shit in my wings that i can't reach and get out on my own.”

you push the covers off and stare at him with the most 'are you serious' expression he's ever seen in his twenty-three years of living. the silence is almost deafening, and you absolutely do not look happy. “hypothetically, of course.” he gives you a sheepish smile.

“keigo takami, i am going to murder you.” keigo throws up his hands in mock surrender and a laugh. as much as you're trying to be mad at him, his smile makes it insanely hard. “hey! no murdering please.” he runs a hand through his messy hair and watches you struggle to hold back from laughing.

𓏵

keigos now seated in your bathroom, at four in the morning, getting his wings pampered by you. “stop moving.” you grumble, and he stares at the mirror laughs at your grumpy expression. you pluck out a few leaves and twigs, trying your hardest not to give in.

“hey — ow! can you be gentler? you almost plucked out one of my feathers.” he winces, glaring at you playfully. “you're lucky i'm even helping you, stop complaining.” you smack his shoulder, which he barely feels, but feigns pain anyway.

CREDITS — DIVIDERS - @/dollywons @/feimingo @/chrisssiren HEADER - pinterest, merged by me

© atetheluck — editing, translating, or modifying my work in any way, shape, or form will result in immediate blockage. do not use my work for ai training, reposting without consent isn't tolerant.

Your eyes fluttered open as you woke up the next morning, realizing you'd fallen asleep on the bench of the tourbus, not even making it to your bunk before you passed out. The memories flooded back from the night before. You were afraid you wouldn't be able to look Chris in the eye after his little comment to you from last night.

You hated that he was right. You couldn't stop replaying it. The tequila that lingered on his breath. The smug smirk he wore on his perfect lips that you couldn't stop thinking about kissing. The way he was staring at you like he knew all your secrets. And maybe he did.

Sure, he was drunk last night when he accused you of playing both him and Matt, but you could tell he meant it. You really didn't think it was fair. You weren't playing anybody. You were still weighing your options, and you hadn't told anyone besides your best friend back home about your crushes.

Just when the thought crossed your mind, your phone buzzed. An incoming text from Elle, who had finally gotten your letter through the snail mail:

"OMG Matt AND Chris? Girl, what are you gonna do!?"

You re-read the text over and over, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you wondered if you should tell her about what had happened the night at the pool or the night before at the Memphis show. Before you could construct a response, you heard Chris enter the common area with a yawn, shirtless, his hair sticking up in several directions.

"Mornin'," he greeted you in his raspy morning voice as he reached for a glass of water, smirking over at you. "Where's your boyfriend?" He teased you.

"I don't know where you got that idea from," you sneered, tucking your phone under your thigh and crossing your arms. "He's out getting us coffee."

"You know exactly where I got that idea from," Chris chuckled, staring you down as he leaned back against the wall of the tourbus.

You ignored his question, your stare boring through him. "I think you owe me an apology."

"An apology?" Chris snorted, finding your demand humorous. "An apology for what? For giving you some material to flick your bean to?"

Your eyes widened, your cheeks flushing pink. "Chris!"

"What? You know I'm right. And you're welcome."

"You're disgusting!" You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"So, which one of us did you think about?" He teased you, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a sip without breaking eye contact. "Both? At the same time?"

"Neither of you. I didn't do anything like that," you lied.

You knew the timing couldn't be worse, after you'd just defended yourself and your dignity, trying to keep your private life, private, but you couldn't help your gaze as it dropped to Chris' chest. Your eyes flicked over his arms, his happy trail, and his boxers that were peeking out of the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Hey, eyes up here," Chris commented, giving you a wink.

You rolled your eyes once more, scoffing. "You're so full of yourself," you mumbled under your breath.

"You're the one fucking me with your eyes," he retorted, his intense gaze fixed on you.

Just then, Matt waltzed through the front door of the tourbus, two coffees in hand.

You snapped your head over in his direction, giving him a big grin and standing to your feet. "Hey, thank you," you said, graciously taking the cup from him with a warm smile. He knew how much you needed coffee to get you going in the morning.

"I got you iced. It's supposed to be hot out today," he warned. "Light and sweet just how you like it."

You stared longingly at him, your gaze fixed on him for just a second too long. He was so thoughtful.

You punched your straw through the lid and took a sip. "Mmmm. This is the best iced coffee I've ever had."

"Only the best for you," Matt replied, his eyes lingering on your lips as you sipped your beverage.

Chris rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance.

"There's supposed to be a little 4th of July fair tonight, and since we don't have a show, I figured maybe we could go," Matt suggested, shrugging before taking a sip from his hot black americano. "I saw a flyer at the coffee shop."

"I'd love that!" You exclaimed, your eyes lighting up. It wasn't really Matt's scene, but he suggested it because he knew you'd have a good time.

"I'm in," Chris chimed in, watching the way you interacted with Matt, a bit of jealousy creeping in. There was no way in hell he was leaving you alone with him for the whole night.

"Okay, perfect. It starts at 6 p.m. It's just down the street. They'll have fireworks and everything."

6 p.m. rolled around, and the sun was hanging low in the sky, casting an orange glow over you, Matt, and Chris as you walked the four blocks from your tourbus to the fairgrounds.

It wasn't quite as humid as it was in Georgia, but just about, so you had dressed well-prepared for the sticky heat. You'd thrown on some faded daisy dukes, a blue and white striped tank top, and styled your hair into two neat braids that fell down to your shoulders and were secured by bright red ribbons, topping off your look with a pair of white cowboy boots and a pair of red heart-shaped sunglasses.

It was a $10 entry fee per person, and you dug around in your little white backpack for a wadded up $20 and a couple of $5 bills. They slapped some wristbands on the three of you, and you were in.

The atmosphere was lively and buzzing excitement, the scent of BBQ burgers and hotdogs and freshly made caramel popcorn floating through the air and filling your senses. You glanced around at all the locals, all the kids parading around with their painted faces and stuffed animal prizes, the adults nearby sipping on Pabst Blue Ribbon and smoking Marlboro Red cigarettes.

A man walked around on stilts dressed as Uncle Sam, entertaining the crowd and passing the three of you as you wandered over towards the food trucks. The three of you ordered three burgers and three beers, and you found a place in the grass field to sit while you ate.

The sound of live music played in the distance, some cover bands playing Creedance Clearwater and Lynard Skynard. You hummed along to Free Bird while you chewed a bite of your burger, the flavor of the sauces on the bun melding perfectly with the meat and cheese.

It wasn't long before a woman approached you guys, recognizing you from the show you'd played last night. "Oh, my god! I love your music! You guys are amazing!"

You all smiled and nodded, getting up to greet her, the act of getting noticed in public still fresh and exciting. You liked her energy, that was, until she turned to Chris, holding out a sharpie. "Will you sign my tits!?" She asked bluntly.

Your smile fell, rolling your eyes behind your big red sunglasses as you watched Chris take the lid off with his teeth, his smug smirk still plastered to his face as he held the sharpie cap between his lips. The woman lifted her tank top, revealing her voluptuous breasts just barely covered by her red, white, and blue bikini top.

Chris signed his name across them, taking his time. He then scribbled his phone number down on her arm, giving her a little wink before he popped the cap back on the marker. "Y'know we're in town for one more night if you wanna swing by the tourbus or somethin'."

She squealed and hugged him before wandering back to her group of friends to brag to them about how the drummer of her favorite band just gave her his number.

"Chris, are you fucking kidding me? Am I gonna have to sleep with ear plugs in tonight?" Matt slugged his brother in the arm.

"Ow!" Chris exclaimed, rubbing his now probably bruised bicep. "So what? You're just mad that you don't have game like me."

"No, I just think sleeping with groupies is trashy and unprofessional."

"Well, I think sleeping with other members of the band is trashy and unprofessional," Chris shot back, his gaze flickering between you and his brother.

"What the fuck are you talkin' about, Chris? You're bein' fuckin' ridiculous!" Matt yelled before he stormed off with his beer.

"Chris, what the hell has gotten into you?" You asked, wrinkling your nose. "What's with your obsession with me and Matt?"

"What's your obsession with me and Matt?" Chris asked, taking a step closer to you. "You know he's my brother, right? Why are you trying to drive a wedge between us?"

"Oh, I'm trying to drive a wedge between you!? You're doing that all on your own. Do you have any idea how fed up he is with you? Always staying out late. Bringing girls back to the bus. It really hurts my feelings!" You blurted out. You paused for a second, trying to backtrack. "I mean, it really hurts Matt's feelings that you don't take the band seriously."

Chris swallowed the lump in his throat, glancing away from you. "Well, it hurts my feelings that it's always you and Matt. You guys are like inseparable. And it's so obvious that you guys like each other."

You blinked quickly, Chris' words catching you off guard. "You think Matt likes me?"

"God! You're both so oblivious," Chris scoffed. "Forget I said anything."

The two of you stood in silence for a moment. With arms crossed over your chest, you stared down at your white boots that had already gotten a little bit of dirt scuffed on them. Go figure.

If Chris was telling the truth, the feelings you had for him and Matt were reciprocated by both of them. You thought that one of them having feelings for you would make your decision easier, but you didn't anticipate them both feeling the same way. It only made the whole thing more complicated.

"Do you wanna go on the ferris wheel with me?" You murmured quietly, still staring down at the ground.

Chris let out a sigh before he uttered a reluctant, "Sure. Let's go."

You found yourselves in a two-person gondola seated side-by-side, the warm leather from Chris' jacket brushing against your shoulder. You couldn't believe he was wearing it despite the fact that it was damn near 80 degrees outside.

Your eyes stretched out over the horizon, noticing the sun was starting to sink below the skyline as the two of you started to reach the highest point of the ferris wheel. "You know, I really like spending time with you. And Matt. I don't want anything to be official yet. I just really enjoy being single," you piped up.

Chris understood. You valued your independence. He could tell that about you. Sure, he wanted more, and a small part of him was crushed at your admission, but he was still a man, and he'd settle for less. Because being with someone halfway was better than not being with them at all.

"You really haven't slept with Matt?" He wondered, glancing over at you, preparing to have his feelings hurt even more.

You shook your head. "No. We haven't done anything. Hell, I've gotten closer to kissing you than I have him."

"Well, then you better kiss me first, or I'm gonna be pissed," Chris replied, cracking a smile, the serious nature of the conversation dwindling.

He placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze. You glanced down at his ringed fingers, feeling the warmth of the metal on your skin. You glanced back up at him, a swarm of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

You both locked eyes. Finally, there were no interruptions. Just you, Chris, and the sunset.

You felt that magnetic pull again, and you both gave into it. Chris' lips crashed into yours, immediately capturing them in his kiss. You felt him cradle your face in his hand, his fingers threading themselves in your hair. He moaned into your mouth, his lips vibrating against yours.

The kiss was slow and sensual at first, but it became messier. Sloppier. You felt him gently trap your bottom lip between his teeth and tug at the tender flesh. You got full body chills, goosebumps scattering across your skin in a matter of seconds. You couldn't get enough.

He pulled away long enough to look into your eyes. "And if you fuck him before you fuck me, I'm gonna be livid."

You giggled before the two of you went back to passionately kissing one another.

The ride continued for a few more revolutions, and the two of you were practically making out by this point. Had there been a little extra space in the tiny gondola, you would have been trying to crawl on top of him, straddling him, as if being intertwined the way you were just simply wasn't enough.

Before you knew it, the ride had come to a stop. You and Chris pulled away, both smiling and giggling like idiots. You felt like you were on cloud nine. Finally, all the almost kisses and the built-up tension between you two had finally had some kind of outlet.

Once the two of you came off the ride, you both started to walk around together, trying to find Matt. Your eyes flickered over the many faces that were lit up only by the soft evening glow of the setting sun.

Chris had wandered off to the nearest food truck and was already buying the two of you another beer.

"There you guys are," you heard that familiar voice from behind you. You whipped around to find Matt. He had his beer that he was still working on in one hand and a little purple stuffed giraffe in the other. "I won this for you."

Your face lit up with excitement. "For me? It's so cute!" You exclaimed, taking the stuffed animal from him and pulling him into a hug.

"I guess being good at darts finally paid off," Matt joked.

Suddenly, the guilt started to set in. You really liked Matt, and maybe Matt really did like you. You felt ashamed accepting the stuffed giraffe from him knowing you'd just made out with his brother on the ferris wheel.

Chris approached the two of you, cracking open your beer for you and handing it off to you, his smile falling when he saw the purple stuffed animal you were clutching under your arm.

"Matt won this for me," you quietly told him.

"I see that," Chris said before his gaze flicked back over to Matt. "So, you done pouting?"

Matt scoffed at Chris. "Are you done being an asshole?"

"Guys, come on. Stop fighting. Let's just go have fun and go find a place to watch the fireworks from. It's gonna be dark soon," you told them, tugging at the sleeve of Chris' leather jacket, but you could tell you'd already lost him. He had a glazed over expression etched into his face as he stared over your shoulder at something behind you.

It was a sign that read in big red letters: BULL RIDING COMPETITION. There was a crowd bathed in bright light gathered around the mechanical bull, cheering on the rider and chanting words you couldn't make out from the other side of the field.

"Bet you couldn't ride that thing," Chris smirked over at you, hoping you'd take the bait.

"You think I can't ride a mechanical bull? You just watch me." You shoved your beer into Chris' free hand and gave the stuffed giraffe back to Matt, spinning around on your heel and heading over to go sign yourself up for the bull riding competition, your boots crushing the dead grass beneath you.

A mischevious smile tugged at the corner of Chris' lip, his eyes glued to your ass as you marched in the other direction with a sense of purpose and pride. He followed after you, eager to enjoy the show from the front of the crowd, and Matt followed closely behind.

You hopped in line behind a few others, watching them each fail miserably and be bucked off the ride in just a matter of seconds.

Before you knew it, it was your turn, and the mechanical bull director was ushering you into the arena. "Next!" He waved you on. You hoisted yourself up onto the mechanical bull, throwing one leg over the saddle. "Hold on tight, young lady," he warned you before starting up the ride.

You gripped onto the saddle with one hand, and the machine started up. You swiveled your hips in a riding motion, bucking along with the bull, adrenaline immediately coursing through you. You heard whistling and cheering from the crowd of people that surrounded you.

As you looked up at the sea of people, you noticed Matt and Chris. They were both standing there, mouths agape, eyes fixed on you while Matt held his beer and the stuffed animal he'd won for you, and Chris held yours and his beer. The way they were staring at you was electrifying.

You tightened your grasp on the saddle, feeling your stomach drop - and a little something else between your legs. You tried to keep your composure, but the tension in your lower abdomen grew.

Holy shit, you thought to yourself as you clenched your trembling thighs together around the bucking mechanical bull that was pressing against your cunt just right.

You didn't mean for it to happen. Especially in such a public space with a bunch of strangers watching, but the vibrations from the machine were too much. You slammed your eyes shut, your lips slightly parting to let out a string of moans that thankfully couldn't be heard over the crowd.

Wetness pooled in your panties, your whole body reacting as you submitted to the wonderful sensation you no longer cared to fight off.

Your lashes fluttered open for a moment, locking eyes with both Matt and Chris as you came undone, and thankfully, they were the only ones who noticed what had just happened.

"We have a winner!" The man announced as he shut off the bull. You climbed off of it, red in the face and breathless. The mechanical bull director walked up to you with the prize, a sparkly red cowboy hat, placing it on your head. "Nice job! That's the best bull riding I've seen today!"

You gave a timid smile and a wave to the crowd before running out of there as fast as you could towards Matt and Chris. Chris looked amused, and Matt had a look of bewilderment on his face.

"Holy shit. I didn't know you could ride like that!" Chris exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

"Did you just-" Matt started to ask, but you cut him off. "Matt! I really don't wanna talk about it."

It was getting dark out now. The fireflies were out and buzzing around. You were starting to feel tipsy from the combination of the heat, the fact that you were working on your second beer, and the accidental climax you'd just had in front of half the park.

You plopped down in the grass in preparation for the fireworks with your sparkly red cowboy hat on, your stuffed giraffe in your lap, and your ice cold beer in your right hand. Matt sat down on your left and Chris on your right.

The first loud boom made you jump, but the colorful burst of light reflected in your sparkling eyes as you watched the first firework of the night.

You felt a rush as another one sounded, more brightly colored flashes going off in the sky before fizzling out into smoke. You felt Chris reach around you, subtly but possessively placing his hand on the small of your back. Your heart pounded in your chest.

He leaned in, subtly whispering into your ear, "The way you rode that bull was so hot. I'm a little jealous." His words sent a shiver down your spine.

No more than a few seconds later, you felt Matt subtly reach for your left hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. He rubbed the top of your thumb with his, glancing over at you to make sure you knew it was intentional.

You held your breath. Both brothers were claiming you as theirs in their own subtle little ways, but little did they know they each had the same idea.

The gentle crash of waves echoed through the open windows of the villa, carrying the salty breeze of the Amalfi Coast into Chris’ home office. Perched on a hillside overlooking the coastline near Salerno, he sat behind a desk buried beneath paperwork.

It was the middle of August, which meant it had been five whole months since he had left New York in March. He had somewhat adapted to the lifestyle here; however, nothing could truly compare to the life he had built back home, especially the people he had left behind. Especially one person in particular.

Chris smiled faintly to himself as his phone lit up with another message from Jenn asking him for an option on a purchase.

Somehow, over the past five months, this had become normal.

They texted every day.

Not out of obligation, but because somewhere along the way, talking to each other had become as natural as breathing.

Calls had become routine, too.

Almost every night, without either of them acknowledging it, they'd end up on the phone around ten o'clock his time. Back in New York, it would only be four in the afternoon for Jenn, usually just as she was finishing work or heading home. The six-hour time difference had quietly carved out a schedule that belonged only to them.

Chris would tell her about his day in Italy. 

Jenn would laugh and then tell him about the rest of her day. The conversations weren't extraordinary, and they didn't need to be.

It resembled a long-distance relationship in almost every conceivable way. Daily texts, late-night or early-morning phone calls, or even checking that the other had eaten.

The only things missing were the labels. There were no I love yous or goodnight kisses whispered through the phone. But there were soft laughs and smily stares during FaceTime. 

Chris liked being in Italy.

More importantly, he loved being there for his mother.

Yesterday, Matt and his wife Elena left after staying for two weeks, and Nick had planned on flying in two days.

Every morning he woke with the painful awareness that their time together was finite, cherishing every breakfast, every walk through the village, every conversation in Italian that he knew he would one day ache to hear again.

He wouldn't trade these moments for anything, but there wasn't a single day he didn't wish Jenn were there, too. Sometimes he'd find a café overlooking the sea and instinctively think, Jenn would love this place.

Her birthday had unraveled five years of carefully buried feelings in the space of a few hours. He still replayed the conversation word for word. 

He dreamed about doe-like eyes looking at him without resentment and soft lips quietly admitting she wanted to see where this could go. It was everything he'd secretly wanted for the better part of five years.

But the universe had a cruel way of unraveling it all. He almost kissed her that night, but didn’t because if he did, there was a chance he’d say fuck all and take her with him. 

He got up and made his way to his mother's room. He saw his father knocked out in the armchair and his mother reading something.

“Hi, Mom,” he said as he walked in. “How’s your head?”

She brightened up upon seeing him. “It's all good for now, my baby. Come here.” He let out a low groan before allowing her to pull him in for a kiss on his forehead. 

He hated this.

Hated seeing the woman who had spent her entire life taking care of everyone else now needing help just to sit up comfortably. He'd built companies and had access to the best doctors money could buy. Yet none of it was enough to save her. Money had always solved every problem he'd ever encountered, until now.

"So," she asked, patting the edge of the bed for him to sit. "How was your day?"

He sat beside her obediently. "Busy."

"When are you ever going to give me a different answer?"

He laughed quietly. "Probably never."

"Have you been overworking yourself again?" She reached over, absentmindedly fixing the collar of his shirt. "I’ve been telling you that I wouldn't mind if you took a little holiday. There's no need for you to spend every minute here."

"No, Ma." He shook his head immediately. "I'm staying, and besides, I don't really have time for a vacation right now."

She shook her head solemnly. “I worry about you, Chris. Out of all my children...I worry about you the most."

 "Ma..." Chris groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please. Not this speech again."

"I give it because you never listen." He held her hand.  "You know I'm fine. I can take care of myself. Have you ever once seen me falling apart?"

"No." She reached up, gently cupping his cheek. "But I've known you since you were in my belly; therefore, I know exactly what you do when you're hurting. You are a hider."

They weren’t lying when they said you can’t hide from mothers. 

"The past five months, you've done nothing except work. You wake up, go to the gym, you eat because I remind you, come check on me, and then you work until midnight." She brushed a thumb across his cheek. "You're surviving. But you aren't living."

"I'm here to take care of you, ma. Not to go sightseeing.” He covered her hand with his own. “And besides...I'm a grown man. What exactly am I supposed to do?"

She narrowed her eyes, and emotion filled her voice. "Don't get smart with me. You may be a grown man. But you're still my child."

He rubbed his forehead dramatically.

"What I mean is..." She sensed his discomfort. "You never go anywhere. You don't even take walks or enjoy clubs. You and Nick loved going to bars."

He shrugged at the memories. "I haven't really had time. There's no time for that when you're running a Fortune 500 company."

That part was mostly true.

"Nonsense." She waved a dismissive hand. "You should make time for yourself too. You should explore and meet people." She shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. "Go on dates, perhaps."

Chris stared at her, unimpressed. "There it is."

She blinked innocently. "What?"

He pointed at her accusingly. "You're trying to marry me off again."

"I never said marriage."

"You were thinking it."

She smiled, but it slowly softened into something more fragile. "Christopher...I'm not trying to pressure you, but I'm not going to be here much longer."

His jaw immediately tightened. There it was. "Ma, come on."

"No." She squeezed his hand. "Let me finish."

There was no fear in her expression.

Only love.

"I've made peace with what's happening, and I've had a beautiful life. I've loved deeply, and I've been loved deeply." She smiled toward the sleeping man in the chair. "I've even raised three extraordinary boys."

Her eyes returned to Chris.

"But a mother's heart never stops worrying." She lifted his hand and kissed the back of it. "I don't need you walking down the aisle next month; I simply want to know you'll be alright." 

A gruff voice suddenly interrupted from the armchair.

"Yeah, I just need to know my son's not a fucking loser."

A new voice filled the room.

His father hadn't even opened his eyes, and his mother burst into laughter. Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. "You've been awake this whole time?"

"I woke up five minutes ago." His father finally sat up, stretching with an exaggerated groan before pointing lazily at Chris. “But yes, your mother is right. You're wound tighter than a drum."

"Exactly." His mother nodded enthusiastically. "My biggest concern is that you're not having enough sex."

Chris nearly choked on air. "Ma!"

"What?" His mother looked completely unapologetic. "It's a valid concern."

"It is not a valid concern."

"When exactly are you enjoying yourself?" 

Chris covered his face with one hand. "Oh god."

She reached over and patted his knee. "I'm just saying, sweetheart, a healthy love life is good for stress."

"Ma."

"It improves your mood and helps your heart."

"Mother, for goddess's sake."

He had been celibate for about five years now, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t experienced. He had a lot of fun during college and engaged in numerous hookups until he was twenty-six. However, he hadn’t been able to touch anyone since his world had been turned upside down by a certain woman. He wasn’t going to explain all that to his parents, though.

"Don't worry, Ma." A small smile tugged at Chris's lips. "I'll get married one day."

His father couldn't hold it together anymore, laughing loudly enough that tears gathered in his eyes, like Chris was a ten-year-old who just claimed he found his wife. "Yeah? To whom?"

The question should've been easy to laugh off. Instead, his mind drifted to silky dark hair. Warm brown eyes and plush lips that were able to say way too much sass. 

"There is someone I have in mind."

His mother's eyes lit up so brightly it almost hurt to look at her. "There is?"

"Hold on." His father had abandoned any attempt to look sleepy. "Who? You've been hiding a woman from us?"

Chris immediately regretted opening his mouth. He could've lied or changed the subject. But then he looked at his mother. She was smiling, and he was struck with the painful realization that she might never get the chance to meet the woman who had quietly stolen his heart.

"Do I know her?" His mother asked softly when he didn't answer.

Chris nodded once. Might as well get the cat out of the bag.

"She's Kitty Sienee's daughter."

Neither of his parents reacted, but that changed when they processed it. At the same moment, his father blurted, "Richard's daughter?" his mother gasped, "Jenevieve?"

Chris couldn't ignore the warmth spreading in his heart as he nodded. 

Both hands were over his mother's mouth. "Oh, Christopher. She's a wonderful girl." She mother looked ready to cry. "And absolutely beautiful." Reaching for his hand, in tears of joy. "I always hoped something was there. I knew it from the moment I realized how you watched her whenever she wasn't looking."

Nonchalent my ass. 

"Don't get too excited." Chris laughed, shaking his head. "We aren't together yet. Our lives are really different at the moment, but I do plan on making it official once I get back, and so does she. "

It was true. They briefly talked about what this could look like when Chris came back from Italy, and from the sound of it, Jenn really still wants to give them a shot. 

Chris looked back at her, and there wasn't an ounce of hesitation in his voice as he spoke. 

"But she's the one I'm going to marry."

The certainty in the statement stole the air from the room. His father had an impressed grin while his mother looked at him tenderly before speaking again. 

“And you really like this girl, dearest?” 

“No, I love her, ma.” 

If his mother beamed her face anymore, it would be stuck like that forever. “You don’t even know how happy you’ve made me today. My life feels fulfilled.”  

He didn’t know why he made it seem like they were getting together for sure, but the smile on his mother's face was worth it.   

What none of them knew as they sat together laughing in that sunlit bedroom overlooking the sea was that from that very day, he had exactly one year left with his mother.

"Christopher…" Jenn drawled playfully as she answered the FaceTime call, tucking one leg beneath herself on the edge of her bed. "How was your day?"

Chris was lying diagonally across his king-sized bed, one arm tucked behind his head, his dark hair still slightly damp from a shower. Judging by the dim lighting behind him, it was well past midnight in Italy.

"My day was alright, Bella." He smiled the moment he saw her. His voice had that familiar sleepy rasp she only ever heard during their late-night calls. "The usual, but I'd rather hear about yours."

Heat crept into her cheeks.

"There isn't much to tell," she admitted, absentmindedly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I just got home from work, and I'm heading over to my parents' house for dinner in a bit. Other than that, it was just another day."

Chris hummed suspiciously. "You didn't stay at the office until eight again, did you?"

"Maybe..."

He let out an exaggerated sigh. Chris had lectured her about overworking like ten times now. "Bella, come on now. We’ve talked about this."

"I know, I know, but I had some stuff to do for the new product line we're releasing." Sienee Holdings had one product they released on the market every year, and Jenn was responsible for the marketing side.

"You work too much." He sighed, looking dramatically disappointed. He looked so handsome, even when he wasn’t trying too. She could look at those blue eyes and chiseled skin for days. 

"Says the man calling me at two in the morning. You were probably working too." She said defensively. 

"I'm not working. I'm avoiding sleep. That's significantly different."

Jenn felt a small pang of concern. “If you're tired, you should sleep, Chris. We can talk tomorrow.”

"No, no," He said immediately. “I’m not that tired. Plus, I want to see you.” 

There were those pesky butterflies again. 

By mid-November, winter had settled comfortably over New York. Meanwhile, on Chris's side of the screen, she could still hear rain gently tapping against an open window somewhere in the villa.

"Okay then." She propped her phone against a stack of books before carrying it over to the enormous walk-in closet connected to her bedroom. "I need your help." The camera turned, revealing rows upon rows of neatly organized clothing.

Chris blinked. "...Bella."

"What?"

"That's a boutique."

"Oh, please." She waved a dismissive hand. "This is only about a quarter of my dresses, and some of them I put away for the winter."

Jenn shuffled through the racks before pulling out two dresses. One was a soft blue. The other was a deep wine-red satin that hugged her figure. She held each against herself in turn before facing the camera.

She tilted her head. "Which one?"

Chris barely glanced at the dresses; his attention had settled entirely on her. "You'd look beautiful in either one, Rosa."

"Christopher." Jenn immediately groaned, ignoring the way her cheeks pinked. Chris saw it. "I'm asking you to choose."

"I did, and my answer clearly got you flushed."

"No, you complimented me."

"I can multitask."

She rolled her eyes, trying very hard to ignore the warmth spreading across her face. "So, which dress?"

Chris finally looked down at the fabrics.

He considered them for all of three seconds.

"The red one. You always look beautiful in red."

Jenn felt herself blush anyway. She looked down at the dress in her hands before quietly smiling to herself. "I guess you're right." 

Chris watched her for another moment before casually asking. "Who's going to this dinner?"

"My parents."

"And?"

She frowned. "And... a few family friends, I think."

His expression remained deceptively neutral. "Any single sons I should know about?" He said it as a joke, but she could have sworn she heard a slight warning in his tone.

Looking back at the screen, she laughed before disappearing behind the closet door to change, her voice carrying through the room. "You're becoming awfully nosy lately."

Chris’s voice filled the air. "Mhm, just wondering.” 

“To answer your question, though, no. There won’t be.” She put on the dress as she spoke. “It's just some of my parents' friends, but I doubt anyone I know is coming.” She paused before stepping out. “Anyway, what do you think?” 

She watched Chris’s face go from neutral to complete awe in a millisecond. It was almost like the world froze before he realized she was still watching him. “You look gorgeous, Bella.” He straightened slightly. “Do a little spin for me.” 

Not backing down, Jenn gave a little twirl, earning herself a giggle and Chris a soft grin while he muttered something in Italian.

“Perfect. You are perfect, Jenn.” 

He had always called her pretty recently, but there was a certain edge to it this time. Like he was caressing her with words when his hands couldn’t. God, she would do anything for him to be here. 

“Thank you.” She picked up her phone and placed it on her vanity now, before sitting to start doing her makeup. A few moments of silence passed before she remembered a thought she had earlier. “Oh, and before I go, I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

Chris sat up a little straighter against the headboard. "What is it?"

"It's... nothing bad." She could tell that didn’t ease him. "It's just that my parents are still very much on my case about finding a boyfriend. As you know."

She had refused eight men in the last five months, and it was starting to annoy her mother.

Chris's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "For marriage?"

"Yeah." She shrugged helplessly. "For marriage."

Chris’s expression was granite. "So they're pressuring you again."

Yes. But she wasn’t going to tell him that right now. 

"They mean well." That part was true, but overbearing. "But when someone reminds you almost every single day that you should be settling down, it gets a little exhausting."

Chris’s earlier softness vanished, replaced by a more controlled demeanor. He always reacted this way when she brought up the subject. Jenn secretly knew he didn’t like that she didn’t take a firmer stance on it.

"I don't like that, Jenn."

"I know."

It always got awkward after this. She knew Chris wouldn’t start arguing with her. It was easy to tell he hated upsetting her. It irked and calmed her somehow. 

"There was actually another reason I brought it up." She looked back toward the screen. "I was thinking about telling them."

His brows drew together slightly. "Telling them what?"

Just say it.

"...About us." She laughed nervously. "Whatever this is. I figured if they knew there was something. They'd probably stop trying to set me up with every eligible bachelor they meet."

Chris looked down for a brief second before eyeing her cautiously. "And what exactly would you tell them we are, Bella?"

She hadn't expected that question. 

"I..." She searched for the words. "I guess I'd just tell them there's someone I'm waiting to figure things out with."

Chris's expression softened for the briefest moment before he masked it again. "And if they ask whether we're together?"

"I'd say, not yet." She hesitated, testing the next sentence in her head before saying it, shyly. "And that I’m not interested in pretending there isn't someone occupying my heart when there is."

"Yeah?" The corner of Chris’s mouth lifted before growing into the unmistakably smug grin she knew all too well. “What else, mhm?” 

Her cheeks immediately warmed. 

"Cause, I distinctly remember someone telling me she'd rather stay single forever than end up with a man like me."

"Oh, my god." Jenn groaned, covering her face with both hands. He said it jokingly, but something told her it had got to him more than he let on. She regretted saying that so much.

"Cute." His eyes gleamed with unmistakable mischief, clearly far too pleased with himself for getting her riled up.

She shook her head, unable to stop smiling.

"Okay." She deliberately straightened in her chair, adopting an exaggeratedly professional tone. "Back to what I was saying, before I was very rudely interrupted."

Chris held his hands up in surrender. "My apologies, the floor is yours."

She huffed dramatically before setting the brush down. "I think...I’m going to tell them tonight after dinner." She absentmindedly adjusted one of her earrings. "I don't really want to keep dodging questions anymore. Plus my father already thinks very highly of you. Honestly, he probably likes you more than he likes me some days."

She watched Chris’s expression slightly harden in disapproval.

"I'm hoping they react well, Chris."

He was quiet for a moment. "And if they don't?"

"I don't know..." Realistically, the reaction could be fifty-fifty. "They probably won't be thrilled that nothing's official. But at least it'll be honest."

"If your father has something to say, you know I'll talk to him, Bella. If he wants to question my intentions..." She watched him sit up straight now. “I have no problem letting him know I’m serious about you.” 

That made her feel a lot better. "Okay."

He smiled faintly. "Promise me, you’ll stop stressing."

She looked at him for a long second before nodding. "I promise."

They talked for a while after that before they bid each other goodbye, and after she finally convinced Chris to go to bed. 

She had missed him more than she'd ever cared to admit. She missed having someone wander into her office almost every day with some sarcastic remark and coffee in hand. She missed always having someone to talk to, someone who somehow understood her without needing much explanation. Even his scent brought back a wave of nostalgia.

It was strange how something so familiar could suddenly feel so far away. That night on her birthday felt like it belonged to another lifetime. It had been the last time she'd seen him.

Dinner passed more quietly than Jenn had expected. She smiled when spoken to and picked at the food on her plate more than she actually ate it. All the while, the conversation she'd planned to have with her parents sat heavily in the back of her mind.

She'd spent the entire drive over rehearsing what she was going to say. She'd originally assumed tonight was just a dinner with a few family friends; instead, it was a company dinner.

The dining room was filled with senior executives, department heads, and longtime employees of Sienee Group. Her father, surprisingly, was in exceptionally high spirits. Come to think of it, he'd been happier than usual for the last several weeks.

Her stomach twisted with anticipation. This was perfect.  She just needed everyone to leave so she could finally talk to her parents.

As dessert plates were cleared away, Richard slowly rose from his chair, causing the conversations around the table to gradually fade. He picked up his champagne flute.

"I know tonight was rather short notice," he began, "but I wanted to take a moment to acknowledge something we've all worked incredibly hard for. After nearly a year of negotiations, the Armand acquisition has officially been finalized."

A small ripple of applause filled the room.

That explains the celebration.

The memory of losing the proposal months earlier no longer carried the same sting it once had. At the time, it had felt devastating. Now it simply felt like another chapter she'd already closed. It didn’t mean what it had before, especially after the nights Chris spent telling her she was destined for more. 

Richard lifted his glass slightly.

"Every person in this room contributed something valuable to making this acquisition a success. Therefore, tonight is simply my way of saying thank you."

Jenn found herself smiling genuinely as her father began acknowledging people one by one. He thanked department directors, Senior partners, Legal advisors, and even the finance team.

She couldn't help but admire how sincerely grateful her father seemed.

"And lastly, there is one final person I'd like to acknowledge. He unfortunately couldn't join us tonight, but I’ve known him long enough to not be offended." Richard chuckled, causing the room to as well. "As most of you know, being the CEO of COS Security doesn't exactly leave much free time."

What? "Apart from running an international company, he's also been dealing with some personal affairs overseas. However, he still made time, and the strategic proposal he presented months ago became the foundation we built the final negotiations around."

Jenn's smile froze. She started thinking of every senior partner whom her father could be talking about and crossed out the ones in the room. Confusion laced her mind before it was replaced with dread.

No, surely not—

"I'd like to thank Christopher Sturniolo." The room erupted into applause. "So although he couldn't be here tonight, I'd like us all to make a toast in honor of him helping make one of the biggest acquisitions in this company's history a reality." He raised his glass. "To Chris."

Everyone had raised their glasses, and soon after, the applause ended. But Jenn just sat there like the moment had stopped, while everybody moved on to conversing again. An intense feeling of something close to betrayal, heartbreak, and hate all rushed into her chest at the same time. 

There was no way this was true.

Memories of the day she'd shown up at his penthouse in tears came rushing back to her. 

"My father pulled me off the deal."

“Your worth isn’t tied to one deal or your father’s approval, do you hear me?”

A painful crack settled in her at the memory of Chris’s tender words. None of it had been real. 

Her eyes slowly lifted toward her father, and he looked proud. Proud of Chris. The realization that her father had never actually trusted her with the biggest deal of her career set in. He had trusted Chris, not her. The same man who now occupied every corner of her heart now felt painfully far away. 

He'd let her cry in his arms. He'd held her while she'd sobbed over losing that acquisition knowing he was the one who had taken it. As much as she tried to come up with a reason to defend him, she couldn’t. He should have told her the moment she had been a crying mess in her penthouse. 

Whether he'd tried to refuse the deal or not.

He'd still known.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. 

When the dinner ended, she got up and left the dining hall, ignoring the curious gazes, and gave a flimsy excuse to her parents, saying she had a headache and had to skip the closing entertainment. More importantly, she felt like throwing up.

As she finally removed her makeup and slipped out of her dress, a wave of emotions crashed over her. The pressure behind her eyes reached a breaking point, and she curled into a fetal position on her bed, succumbing to the sobs that shook her body.

It wasn’t about the deal aspect at all.

What hurt the most was that Chris knew how deeply this would affect her and chose to hide it anyway. The deal was going to benefit him significantly, and all she could conclude was that he had selfishly taken more for himself. He concealed the truth, like the devil he had always been in her heart before she had convinced herself that he would never hurt her. 

It was another win for Chris and another loss for her. 

Another win for Chris, and another reminder that he was always going to be better than her in her father's eyes. The son he never had. 

She could call him right now and demand an explanation. To ask him how he could have looked her in the eyes for months and never told her the truth. But silence felt safer than the answer.

Because if she heard him say that he used her, then she wasn't sure she'd survive it.

She had promised she'd wait for him to come home to her.

Now, suddenly feeling foolish, a bitter laugh escaped through the tears running down her cheeks.

Christopher had once promised he'd never lie to her.

But then he did. 

So as she turned around on her bed and closed her eyes, the only solace she got was that she silently vowed to herself she’d never fall for him again, so then they both were liars. 

ceyana’s note: get ready. i love you, mwah <3

The three of you had just wrapped up a show in Memphis, Tennessee, the energy from the crowd still lingering in your system. Chris was nowhere to be found, mostly likely off taking shots with the guys from the other bands and shooting his shot with groupies, while you and Matt were both back at the tourbus, trying to wind down from all the chaos and get ready for bed.

You were curled up on the bench in your pajamas with a good book you'd read several times, the spine and the cover worn and tattered, your eyes scanning the words on the page and creating a whole little world in your head.

Your wore your hair down, letting it airdry from your shower you had earlier that you were hoping would relax you, but it was hard in such a cramped space, and the water had just started warming up by the time you were ready to get out.

Matt was seated on the floor, his back up against the bench you were perched on, rubbing the back of his neck and hissing in pain. "Man, my guitar strap has been killing me." He was more so talking out loud to himself, not expecting a response, but you perked up, dropping your book onto your lap.

"Oh, do you want a massage or something?" You casually suggested with a half-hearted shrug.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head. "You don't have to do that." There was a sense of longing in his voice that indicated he wouldn't turn it down if you asked again.

"I know I don't have to," you replied, situating yourself on the bench. "I'm offering."

"Alright, alright. Twist my arm," he jokingly said, looking back at you with a charming smile.

"Here. Sit between my legs," you told him, draping your legs over the side of the bench. Matt positioned himself with his back to you, your feet planted on the floor of the tourbus on either side of him.

"Thank you," he told you, a bit of relief in his voice before you could even touch him.

"Just try to enjoy it," you replied in a calm soothing voice as you thoughtfully placed your hands on both of his shoulders.

With your thumbs, you started to rub just below the nape of his neck. A sigh of relief passed through his lips as he surrendered to your touch. You could feel him relax beneath you, the tension in his shoulders falling as you worked out a particularly stubborn knot.

"Just like that," Matt groaned, letting his head fall back, his breathy voice sending a current of arousal through you, the air feeling charged with a level of sexual tension.

"Feel good?" You softly inquired, still caressing his neck.

"Mhmm," he hummed. "So good."

You weren't sure if he was doing it on purpose, but his responses were so sensual, pleasured sounds dripping from his mouth like warm honey.

"You mind, uh, taking off your shirt? You know, so I can get your back?" You wondered, hoping it didn't seem like you were trying to get him out of his clothes, even though you absolutely were.

"Oh, for sure," he responded, and without hesitation, he pulled the clothing off over his head, discarding it onto the floor. You held your breath, biting down on your bottom lip as he revealed his back to you, muscles, tattoos, and all.

It was only the third or fourth time you'd seen him shirtless, and it was definitely the first time you were going to put your hands on him in such an intimate way. You lightly ran your fingers over the ink, sending a shiver down Matt's spine.

You got back to work, gently rubbing his shoulder blades, but the whole time you were picturing a sexual encounter with him, imagining his back all covered in scratches from you.

"You can be a little rougher," Matt admitted, glancing back at you with his blue eyes, breaking you out of your filthy thoughts. "I promise. I can take it," he assured you, sensing your hesitation.

You simultaneously loved and hated how everything he was saying to you could easily be read as dirty talk in your dirty little mind. He had to know what he was doing, right?

"Uh, yeah, totally. Just let me know if I'm hurting you at all." You added more pressure, rubbing circles with your thumbs over all of his tender spots, eliciting a few deep groans from him that made your stomach turn in the best way.

"Fuck," he sighed as one of the knots came loose in his muscles, the tension further leaving his body. "Hey, do you mind getting my lower back? Matt chimed in. "If I lay on the floor, it might be easier."

"Sure. Of course," you nodded eagerly, wanting any excuse to touch more of him.

He situated himself so he was laying flat on his stomach in the walkway. You straddled his lower back, praying he wouldn't be able to feel how wet you were getting or the way your clit was actually throbbing at the way he was talking to you. You started from his mid back, expertly massaging all the spots that felt extra tense.

"Oh, my god. Right there. That feels sooo good." Your jaw dropped as you listened to the uncontrollable moans spilling from his lips, wondering if he knew just how hot he sounded.

You continued to run your hands along his back tattoos, increasing the pressure as he requested. You felt a rush of desire rippling through you, using all your willpower to maintain your professionalism and fight the urge to start grinding against him.

"You're doing so good," he whispered, his voice hoarse and filled with need. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head at the praise. You cleared your throat, taking a deep breath and trying to keep it clean despite the filthy thoughts that were swirling around in your head.

"You like that?" You asked in a sultry tone, startling yourself with how lustful it sounded coming out of your mouth.

Instead, he played into it, leaving you futher wondering if he was liking this in the same way you were, or if to him it was just a friend giving another friend a massage.

"Yesss," he hissed. "Your hands feel so fuckin' good on me."

You couldn't help it. Your hips involuntarily rolled forward, the sensation going straight to your clit. You paused, hoping Matt wouldn't notice.

Matt groaned in pleasure under your touch as the door swung open to a dumbfounded Chris, standing at the front of the bus with his jaw on the floor. He could clearly hear what was happening before he stepped inside. "Holy shit! I thought I was gonna walk in on you guys fucking," Chris laughed, stumbling inside as he pulled the door closed behind him.

"Chris! You're disgusting," you exclaimed, blushing hard as you sat up straight, still straddling Matt's lower back.

"Chris, what the fuck?" Matt tilted his head up to look at his brother. "She was just massaging me. Don't be weird."

"The sounds you guys were making were crazy without the context, okay? You can't blame me," Chris slurred his words, clearly drunk, holding his hands up in a defensive position, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You just have a dirty mind, Chris," you accused him, standing up and shaking your head in disapproval, knowing damn well your mind was just as dirty.

"Yeah, just because you don't care about us walking in on you fucking some girl doesn't mean we'd do that to you," Matt huffed back in response, picking his shirt up off the floor and throwing it back on before he climbed to his feet.

"Are you kidding!?" Chris blurted out. "Does that feel good, Matt? Oh, yeah. Right there. Just like that. Your hands feel so fuckin' good on me," Chris repeated the words you'd exchanged almost verbatim.

Your jaw dropped again, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Chris!" You shouted.

"Dude, were you just sitting out there listening through the door?" Matt accused him, narrowing his gaze. "Fuckin' perv."

"Not intentionally. I just was debating whether to come in or not, because it genuinely sounded like you guys were doing something!"

"Yeah, whatever. Bet you were picturing it. Freak," Matt gruffed, shoulder checking his brother as he pushed past him on his way to go smoke a joint outside.

You avoided eye contact, crawling back onto the bench and grabbing your book, picking up where you'd left off in the story.

Chris paused in front of you, crossing his arms and glaring down at you with a malicious grin. "I see the way you look at him."

"Chris, what the fuck are you talking about?" You sneered back without looking up.

"I see the way your eyes follow him when he gets out of the shower. When he takes off his shirt. I bet that was so hard for you. Hearing him talk to you like that. Bet you wanted to fuck his brains out."

You didn't confirm or deny it. You sat there, jaw on the floor, so humiliated you could cry. You wanted to tell him to shut up, put him in his place, but you were speechless. Chris leaned in. You could smell the alcohol on his breath. "You want him more than me?" Chris asked, his face softening. He almost looked hurt.

"Chris, you're drunk."

"I may be, but I'm not an idiot. That night we went out dancing. The other night at the pool. God, the way you look at me is intoxicating. But it's the same way you look at him."

You felt so called out. You didn't even know what to say.

"Wonder which one of us you're gonna think about when you fuck yourself with those pretty little fingers of yours tonight." His gaze dropped to your hands as you tightened your grip on your book. Your jaw dropped again, your eyes widening and your eyebrows flying up.

"Both of us?" He teased you. "God, I'd pay to watch that." He was still fixed on your manicured nails, picturing the things you do to yourself when you're alone.

"Chris. You're trashed," you said sternly. "Go sleep it off. We can talk about this when you're sober," you managed to fix your lips to say.

Chris scoffed, rolling his eyes as he staggered off to his bunk, mumbling under his breath, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Slut."

You stayed in place, legs curled up underneath you, book in hand just staring off into the distance in shock. You blinked, a tear falling from your lashes and rolling down your cheek.

You weren't even sure why you were crying. Maybe from embarrassment. Maybe frustration. Maybe bewilderment. You genuinely couldn't believe what he'd just said to you and with all the confidence in the world, too. Even more than that, you couldn't believe how insanely turned on you were from it.

After Matt came inside, apologizing to you for his brother's behavior, though he didn't even know the half of what had just been said. You shrugged it off.

You waited for the energy in the bus to die down. You waited until the lights were off. You waited until you heard the sound of Chris snoring and until you stopped hearing the sound of Matt tossing around in his bunk.

As your last night in Georgia unfolded, your plan to stay back in the hotel room and journal or read was suddenly interrupted when your phone buzzed. It was an incoming text from Chris, inviting you to join him for a little nighttime swim:

"Wanna go for a dip in the pool with me?"

Normally, you'd stay in, decline his offer, but the allure of sharing such an intimate setting with him and finding out how his conversation with Amber had gone was too tempting to say no to. Another appeal was that you were secretly dying to see him shirtless. You texted him back:

"Sure. Be down in 10."

You threw on a skimpy white bikini, one that showed just enough skin, trying to convince yourself that you weren't looking for a reaction from Chris by wearing it. You watched the floor number descend as you stood in the elevator, your towel draped over your arm and your heart thumping in anticipation.

You spotted him down by the pool, already in the water with a beer bottle in hand, the Blue Moon label facing you. He looked serene, completely lost in thought, staring up at the blanket of stars overhead. You took a deep breath before approaching him, feeling your stomach flutter with both excitement and nervousness.

Before you could greet him, he noticed you across the way out of the corner of his vision. His blue eyes met yours before flicking over your body, a fleck of hunger in them. His tongue slithered out from behind his pink lips as he wet them, that same look you'd spent the entire elevator ride down convincing yourself you weren't yearning for.

It was the second time you'd seen Chris look at you like that, and well, you liked it.

"Hey," he smiled, taking another sip of his beer without taking his gaze off of you.

"Hey," you replied, sitting down by the poolside, dipping the bottom half of your legs in the still water. "Thanks for the invite."

"Thanks for comin'." Chris hoisted himself out of the water, sitting down beside you at the edge of the poolside, bringing a puddle of water with him.

"Where's Matt?" You asked, glancing around the pool area and the lobby, wondering where he could be if not out here or in the hotel room.

"He's probably off smoking a joint by himself. I invited him, too, but he was acting kind of weird and moody. You know how he can be." You did know, and you liked Matt for it. He got into weird, introverted moods just like you did.

You nodded. A beat of silence followed while you mustered up the courage to ask Chris about the phone call.

"So, uh, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I heard that Amber called last night," the words tumbled out of your mouth, not completely sure what you wanted him to answer in response.

He rolled his eyes, scoffing. "You wouldn't believe it. She wants me to take her back."

Your heart sank in a way that you didn't imagine it would. You'd had a hunch. What other reason would she have called Chris so late at night? But hearing your suspicions confirmed was a strange feeling.

"What exactly did she say?" You halfway regretted the words as they slipped out. A part of you didn't want to know. He looked over at you, wondering whether he should tell the truth or not.

"She was really convincing. Telling me how sorry she was. How she threw away a good man for the heat of the moment and how she regrets it. Telling me how much she misses the sex..." he lowered his voice. "Honestly, I'm glad she's in another state because I don't know if I would've been able to stay strong if she was throwing herself at me in person."

You swallowed the lump in your throat. A part of you was trying to push that thought out of your head - Amber and Chris having sex. It made you sick to your stomach to think about.

But when you slowly started to imagine yourself in her place, the thought not only became tolerable but kind of hot. You glanced back up at him and shook your head as if literally trying to shake the image out of your mind, worried that he may be able to tell what you were thinking.

"Chris, you can't take her back. Remember how she treated you? Plus, there's no chance she tells her friends and family that she was actually the one who cheated. They're all just gonna be looking at you sideways anytime she brings you around."

He sighed, the tension falling from his heavy shoulders. "You're right. But it's complicated."

"What's complicated about it? She fucked another guy while the two of you were supposed to be monogamous," you told him, giving him a more serious look. You hated watching a guy who seemed to be so confident fall victim to his toxic ex girlfriend trying to weasel her way back into his life, and you hated that he was even considering taking her back.

Chris took a sip of his Blue Moon before he glanced back over at you like he wanted to listen to you, but you could tell there was a lot going on behind his blue eyes. You didn't want to pry, but you wanted to know.

"I still think you deserve better," you told him, flirtatiously snatching his beer out of his hand and taking a swig of it, breaking up the seriousness of the conversation. He smirked as you handed it back and lowered yourself into the pool, the initial sensation from the cool water shocking your system.

"Cold?" Chris asked, watching your reaction.

"Maybe. You gonna get in?" You wondered, trying to keep your teeth from chattering. "Or you gonna leave me hanging?"

He set his beer bottle down by the poolside, a challenging grin spreading across his face. He jumped in after you, accidentally splashing you as he did.

"Hey!" You exclaimed, splashing him back.

"Do it again. I dare you," Chris playfully threatened.

You cocked an eyebrow, giving him a smug look before slamming your hand down on the surface of the pool and giving him a face full of chlorine water. You turned away, swimming to the opposite end of the poolside.

He shook his head like a dog who'd just gotten a bath. "Oh, you're asking for it now," he chuckled in response, sloshing more water in your direction as he swam after you before he tackled you, coming up from behind you and picking you up in his arms.

You squealed, trying to get away from him but not really. You loved the feeling of his hands on you. You'd been craving that feeling since the night the two of you had gone dancing together. He hesitated for a moment, the sexual tension between the both of you almost palpable before dunking you under.

You resurfaced seconds later, giving Chris a look of shock. "Watch it, Chris," you snarked at him, still giggling, slicking your hair back with your hands and squeezing out the excess water.

"What are you gonna do about it?" He teased, swimming away from you so you couldn't retaliate.

"Don't test me. I'll get you when you least expect it," you threatened, smirking at him.

The two of you waded around in the pool in silence, taking in the atmosphere of the night, the only sounds were the lapping water, the whoosh of the distant cars on the highway, and your heartbeat that you swore Chris could hear from six feet away. The air was still sticky and humid despite the sun having set hours ago, and it clung to your skin.

You were just starting to get used to Georgia, and the three of you were leaving tomorrow.

Chris finally broke the silence. "I'm not gonna take Amber back, ya know."

"Better not," you said, giving him a look. "But clearly there's a part of you that wants to, so why is it so hard for you to let go?"

Your words hit harder than he expected. He took his time processing the question before speaking up again. "It's just sometimes it's better to be with someone shitty than to be alone."

"I mean, you rarely spend the night alone, Chris," you snarked back, giving him a look.

He laughed. "I just want to find my forever person. As corny as that sounds."

"What kind of girl do you think your forever person is like?" You asked, laying on your back and floating on the water, trying to detach yourself from any expectations about what his answer might be.

"Well, in my head, she makes me laugh. She's smart. She calls me out on my bullshit," he smiled to himself. "She's introspective, but always knows how to get me out of my head when I need it. And she's as passionate about music as I am."

You refrained from pointing it out, but he was describing you.

"What about you? I know you've casually dated around, but I've never seen you get serious with anyone." He turned the question back around on you.

"I like my alone time too much, Chris. I don't have a type or a checklist or anything, but if I'm gonna commit to someone, they would have to be so fun to be around that I'd rather spend time with them than be alone."

"Well, you came out of the hotel room for me," Chris pointed out.

"Yeah, you're not the worst company in the world," you joked, giving him a playful wink.

The two of you laughed, throwing harmless flirty comments back and forth all night, but there was definitely a spark there, and you both felt it.

Before you knew it, the two of you were inching closer towards each other in the pool, and your voices were growing lower and quieter. You noticed Chris' gaze kept flicking between your sparkling eyes and your full lips, and you caught yourself doing the same.

"You know, don't take this the wrong way, but you should show off your body more," Chris commented when the conversation had shifted to clothing style and the things you wished you could wear but probably never would because you didn't think you could pull them off.

"Oh?" You gave him a cheeky grin. "You think so?"

"I just mean, you're really beautiful, and you have a nice body. You could absolutely pull off anything you wanted to wear," he clarified, hoping he didn't sound like his typical fuckboy self who just wanted to see you naked even though he absolutely did.

"You're not so bad yourself," you told him, your eyes flickering down to his arms and his chest.

You felt a magnetic pull, drawing the two of you closer together. You didn't fight it this time. The two of you stared deeply into each other's eyes, your noses just about to touch when Matt's familiar voice sounded. "There you two are."

In unison, you both whipped your heads around in the direction his voice came from, now giving Matt your full attention and slowly putting distance between yourselves.

"Hey, Matt. What's up?" You asked nonchalantly, your cheeks turning pink.

"Yeah, bro. What's up?" Chris chimed in.

"Do you guys have any idea what time it is? It's almost 1 a.m. You realize we gotta pack up early tomorrow, right? We're playing a show in Tennessee in less than 24 hours."

You glanced down at your hands, realizing how pruned and pale-looking they were. It dawned on you in that moment that you and Chris had been at the pool for hours. "Oh, shit. Is it really that late?" You wondered aloud, climbing out of the water and searching around for you towel.

"Yeah, it really is," Matt replied, narrowing his gaze at the two of you. "Was I, uh, interrupting something?"

"What? No? God, no. Don't be ridiculous. We just lost track of time. That's all," you shrugged, slipping on your flip-flops and draping your towel around your shoulders.

"Yeah, I was just filling her in on the Amber situation," Chris replied, following you out of the pool and taking his empty beer bottle with him.

"If you say so," Matt answered, shrugging.

you're there, hiding under the covers, in the dark. he lets out a small sigh of relief and leans against the door. “you scared me, you always welcome me home.” he then gets curious when you don't reply. he looks around the room; water, snacks, pills? oh.

ohhh. “ah, that's whats up.” he clicks his tongue and stares at the pile of blankets, then shifts his weight to the other foot.

“do you want me to leave or—”

“no!” he presses his lips together awkwardly and shoves his gloved hands into his pockets. “okay. do you — uh, y'need anything?” his question meets deafening silence. he wonders if maybe he should just let you get some rest.

“i can like, cook. if you're hungry.” he asks quietly, and then he finally sees your head peek out of the mountain of blankets, your big eyes sparkling. “you're gonna cook?” keigo smiles at how eager you are and gives you a few nods. “i can, 'm all done with work today.”

𓏵

keigo admires you from your left as you finish your food, flashing you a genuine little smile. “all done?” when you nod, he takes your paper plate and throws it out. he stands by your side for a moment or two just thinking, then snaps his fingers. “mm! 'member that movie i was tellin' you about?”

you nod your head and look up at him. he leans on your chair, meeting your gaze and starting to tell you about the movie. “thought it'd be perfect for tonight, but i heard it's also hella sad, 'nd you know, hormones,” he whispers. “stop teasing me, kei.” you warn. he earns himself a nice smack, and he jumps back and laughs. “ow — okay, alright alright, no more jokes.”

𓏵

keigo has you practically on his lap, a big, red wing's wrapped around you and a blanket too for some reason, as if one heavy, fluffy wing wasn't enough. he has that dumb movie on, prepared a snack tray, got your water, everything you might need.

both of his arms and one wing are keeping you glued to him, and he will not let you get up. “but kei, i have to use the bathroom —” you try pushing him off, but there's no chance and you know it. “five more minutes, hmm? you can get up in five.”

he's so warm, and the sound of his heart and his breathing has you calm and weak. his fingers are tangled in your pretty hair, playing with the strands and massaging your scalp occasionally. it's moments like this that you wait for; when he's gone all day and makes it up to you in the best way.

the television is background noise to you, you're not focused on it whatsoever. keigo feels safe, like home, and you couldn't get enough of it. he notices your eyes drooping and chuckles, but doesn't make any teasing comments this time. he pecks your forehead, and lets you fall asleep.

CREDITS — DIVIDERS - @/dollywons @/feimingo @/chrisssiren HEADER - pinterest, merged by me

© atetheluck — editing, translating, or modifying my work in any way, shape, or form will result in immediate blockage. do not use my work for ai training, reposting without consent isn't tolerant.

"Nick. Your bathroom is so nice," you commented, grazing the wall with your fingertips as you admired the pretty pink tile. "I swear, when I buy a house, I'm hiring you to do the interior design." Your eyes dropped to the detailing of the knobs and the detachable shower head. Nick always had impeccable style. He had an eye for color, aesthetic, and flair. It was something you were always a little envious of.

"Yeah, wish my bathroom looked like this," Matt added, standing in the center of the room, adjusting his backwards hat. Your gaze flickered over at him, noticing his grey sweatpants slung low on his hips and a pair of black boxers that were peeking out of the waistband. It always drove you crazy when he wore them together.

"Mind you, you were there when we all picked out tile for our bathrooms, and you chose to go with white," Nick snarked back, playfully rolling his eyes.

"Guess I don't think that hard about how I'm gonna decorate a place where I'm gonna wash my balls," Matt chuckled, his hand hovering over the shower knob like he was about to turn it on.

"Matt!" You flirtatiously batted his hand away, the bathroom echoing with your giggles. "Don't you dare!"

"Alright, well, I have a photoshoot in less than an hour," Nick replied, glancing down at his watch. "I gotta get going if I'm gonna make it on time. Don't do anything weird in here." He shot you each a glare before leaving the two of you alone in his shower like he knew what was about to happen next.

You and Matt exchanged a devious look, your minds both immediately going to the same place. The same dirty, filthy place. You each waited until you heard the front door slam shut before you said anything.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Matt cooed, reaching up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His thumb grazed your cheek as he stared down at you with his lust-filled gaze, subtly chewing his bottom lip.

"Depends," you smirked back, your stomach fluttering at his touch and the way he was practically devouring you with his seductive blue eyes.

"Because I was thinking..." Matt started to say, his voice trailing off as his hand slowly moved down your neck to your breast which he then gave a gentle squeeze. He didn't have to finish his sentence, and you didn't have to respond. The twinkle in your big doe eyes said it all.

His fingers found their way to the heart-shaped buttons cut out of stone that held your blouse closed, and he started to slowly undo them, one by one. He took his time, your breath catching as the top button popped open, his smile growing wider as he worked his way down. "Let's get you out of this, huh?"

You stood there in silence, licking your lips as he continued to undress you, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. He dropped his gaze again, his eyes wandering your body as if he were seeing it for the first time.

Once he'd undone every last button, he pushed the soft fabric off your shoulders and let it fall to the shower floor. His large hand settled on the dip in your curves, cradling the side of your waist and pulling you closer once more until his hips were pressing into yours. You felt his hardness resting on your lower stomach, making it impossible to resist him. He locked eyes with you, tilting your chin up with his finger.

He leaned in and kissed you, his soft lips melting into yours. Your whole body softened, dissolving into his as his kiss grew messier. Hungrier. You felt him gently bite down, trapping your bottom lip between his teeth. He tugged at your swollen, plump lip before releasing it, eliciting a soft sigh from you.

He pushed you up against the same pink tile the two of you were admiring with his brother just minutes ago, and his lips latched onto a sensitive spot on your neck. You tipped your head back, giving him better access, his soft mouth working its magic on your warm skin. You softly moaned, encouraging him even more.

He nipped at your throat with his teeth, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He bit down a little harder, definitely leaving a mark, which made you even wetter.

He moved down your collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses to the top of your breast. He paused for just a moment, watching you squirm beneath him. "Matt. Please," you cooed in a breathy voice.

"Needy little thing, aren't you?" He whispered, a malicious smile curling across his perfect lips. "So turned on already, and I haven't even gotten started."

Without warning, he latched onto your right breast. His soft, wet tongue swirled around your nipple, sending ripples of electricity through your entire body and making you shudder. He moaned, his lips vibrating around your sensitive bud.

"Oh, Matt," you softly whimpered as his hands wandered the rest of your body. You felt the waistband of your jeans loosen as he slowly unbuttoned them, and you heard the sound of him lowering your zipper. His fingers dipped down the front of your pants, grazing your white lace panties.

"Jesus. You're soaked," he observed, slowly massaging circles over the wet spot of the fabric, stimulating your clit. You gasped, your knees buckling underneath you.

He moved to the other breast, paying the same special attention he had to the first. He gently bit down, making you cry out. Your hand instinctively reached up to cover your mouth, forgetting the two of you were alone.

Matt paused, his gaze flickering up at you as he continued to rub your little pussy through your lace panties. "C'mon, baby. Don't be shy. Let me hear you. Got the place all to ourselves."

He pulled his hand out from your waistband, staring straight at you as he lifted his fingers to his lips, seductively sucking your juices from them.

"Mmm. So sweet," he rasped as he lowered himself to his knees in front of you. His kisses trailed down your stomach as he slowly tugged at your jeans that hugged your figure so well. He pulled them down your thighs, helping you step out of them one leg at a time, and he discarded them with the blouse he'd slipped off of you moments ago.

You peered down into his blue eyes as he closed the distance between his face and your clothed cunt. Your jaw dropped, your lips parting and letting out a moan as his warm mouth covered your heat. "Oh!"

Matt smirked against the lacey material, his tongue darting out and licking along the wet spot to taste you more thoroughly, keeping his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

He used his teeth, trapping the elastic band of your panties, and slowly pulled them down your thighs. Your stomach turned with arousal, watching him undress you in such an animalistic way.

You stepped out of your panties as he pulled them off of you, and he dove face first between your legs once more. His tongue grazed your slit, gathering your wetness. He quickly found your clit, closing his lips down around it and softly humming against your bundle of nerves.

You cried out again, your knees trembling as you struggled to keep yourself up. You instinctively reached for him, accidentally knocking his hat off in the process before threading your fingers through his hair. He chuckled against your cunt, his tongue slithering through your delicate folds.

"Pretty and pink just like this bathroom," he complimented your pussy as he spread you open, admiring how wet you were. He blew cold air over your clit, making you quiver before flicking his tongue against you once more.

He hiked up your right leg, his ear resting against the inside of your thigh and the sole of your foot resting on his back as he ate you out like a man starving, devouring you like his life depended on it. The soft, wet sounds of his tongue exploring you filled the room, making it nearly impossible to fend off your impending orgasm.

Before you could succumb to the feeling, it was cut short by him pulling away, grinning from ear to ear, his mouth glistening in your juices. "Not yet."

He climbed to his feet and started undressing himself in front of you, pulling his white t-shirt off over his head. You admired his physique, his veiny arms, his defined biceps, and his strong shoulders. Your gaze dropped to his v-lines as he lowered his waistband, slinking off his sweats and his boxers.

You bit down on your lip as his cock sprung out, hard and ready to go, his tip shiny with precum. He wrapped his hand around his length, giving it a few strokes as he stared you down with his hungry blue eyes. "Turn around," he demanded.

You listened, spinning around. He turned the knob, flicking on the shower. You felt the warm water cascade over you, running off of your naked body like a waterfall. Matt grabbed the detachable shower head in one hand and wrapped his other arm around your waist, pulling you into him, his hard cock resting against your backside.

"Good girl. Just stay still and let me make you feel good," he growled into your ear as he held the shower head between your legs. Your head fell back against him, your back arching against his chest as you felt the pressurized water hit your cunt. Another guttural moan fell from your lips.

Matt smirked, loving the sounds and reactions he could elicit from you. "So sensitive," he whispered, his hot breath ghosting over your neck. He reached up with his free hand, grabbing a handful of your tit, savoring every bit of you.

Before long, you felt the pressure building in your lower stomach again. Your whole body began to tremble, your composure slipping away from you quickly until you nearly came undone, but Matt was quicker. He pulled the shower head away before you could finish, reattaching it to the wall with a sadistic chuckle, determined to tease you until you physically couldn't handle it anymore.

"You ready for me?" He wondered aloud.

You peered back at him, nodding. He grabbed your wrists, pinning your hands up against the pink tile. He hiked your leg up again, poking and prodding at your weeping hole with the tip of his cock. Your eyes fluttered shut, and your jaw fell slack as he breached your entrance.

He stretched you open, the rest of his length disappearing into your sopping wet cunt as his hips jerked forward, a guttural moan falling from his own lips. With his left hand, he reached around to the front of your body, wrapping his fingers around your neck, not restricting airflow, just holding you in place as he started to pump into you.

"You take it so willingly, don't you?" He cooed, his words of praise going straight to your clit. "Fuck. It's like this pussy was made for me."

You clawed at the shower wall, trying desperately to anchor yourself to anything as his cock moved steadily inside of you, making you throb around him.

"Squeezing me so fuckin' good, darling," he grunted into your ear, speeding up his thrusts.

You were a whimpering mess, unbridled sounds of pleasure pouring from your lips like music to Matt's ears, encouraging him to pound into you harder. The knot in your stomach pulled tight, your climax bubbling up inside of you.

With a final moan that came deep from within your core, you felt your body go limp held up only by Matt and the shower wall he was fucking you against, your left cheek pressed against the pink tile. You trembled uncontrollably, your pussy rhythmically clenching around him. Pleasure rippled through you as you came undone, chanting Matt's name like a spell.

Matt came shortly after you, moans and grunts floating to your ears, his hot breath hitting the side of your neck, his cock twitching as he pumped you full of his hot, sticky cum. "Look at what you do to me," he whispered to you, his strokes slowing.

While he was still inside of you, you both were startled by the sound of a knock at the bathroom door. The two of you snapped your heads to face each other, both looking confused. It was too early for Nick to be back.

"What are you guys doing in Nick's bathroom?" You heard Chris' voice float through the door.

"Fuck off, Chris," Matt called back, still breathless, the shower still running.

"You don't think he heard us, did he?" You asked, gazing back at your boyfriend who had flushed cheeks and a glazed over expression. He looked beautiful.

Jenn had spent the entire next two weeks mentally cursing herself. Her thoughts had become one giant, exhausting loop she couldn't seem to escape.

First, she'd genuinely believed she could walk into her father's office, hand in her resignation, and leave the company without everything blowing up in her face. Stupid. Second, she had almost kissed Christopher Sturniolo. That part was somehow even worse.

The moment replayed in her head at the most inconvenient times. Every single time she remembered how she'd leaned in, she wanted to crawl into the nearest hole and stay there forever. She couldn't even decide what bothered her more. The fact that Chris had stepped away or the fact that he'd acted as though it had never happened.

He hadn't avoided her or even brought it up again. 

The very next morning, he'd walked into her office with a brown sugar cinnamon latte in one hand, made some insufferable comment about how she looked less like she wanted to fight the world, and left before she could think of a comeback.

Was he pretending it hadn't happened to spare her embarrassment?

Then there was the Italian. She'd spent an embarrassingly large amount of time trying to figure out what he'd whispered before walking out of her office.

Christopher always had the faintest trace of an Italian accent tucked beneath his otherwise polished voice. Now and then, he'd mutter a word or two in Italian under his breath. She'd never cared enough to ask what any of it meant. Knowing Christopher, it was probably some elaborate insult about her complete lack of self-control...right?

Jenn groaned quietly, dropping her forehead onto her desk, because this was the same Christopher Sturniolo she'd spent years insisting she couldn't stand. 

She got a text, cutting off her thoughts. It was her mother. 

Sure enough,  a picture of a man she'd never met stared back at her. Below it was a meticulously organized list of credentials.

Thirty-two. Harvard Law. Partner at a top New York firm. Owns property in Manhattan and the Hamptons. Speaks three languages. Blah… blah… blah. 

It came across more like someone introducing their son than like someone selling a luxury apartment. She almost expected there to be a warranty included.

The worst part was that every time she politely declined, her mother responded with the exact same argument. "It's not all about looks, darling." Which she agreed with, but when your entire first impression of someone consisted of a single professionally taken headshot and a résumé disguised as a dating profile, what exactly was she supposed to base her interest on?

Her phone started ringing.

Jenn answered with a sigh and skipped the hello. “I’m not interested, Miss Kitty Sienee, so whatever you wanna say, save it.” 

"So quickly?" Kitty sounded far too cheerful. "You haven't even given him a chance."

"You sent me a LinkedIn profile with a face attached, if I didn’t know better I'd think this was a job application.” 

"Darling..." Kitty let out a long, patient sigh. "You really need to start taking this seriously. You're dismissing every nice man I send you, and don’t give me the ‘I don’t think he’s handsome’ excuse because some of the ones I sent are very attractive boys."

"Mother..."

Kitty's tone softened. "You're twenty-seven now."

"Yup."

"I would really love to see you settled."

Jenn smiled despite herself. "I knew this was coming."

"I don't necessarily mean married tomorrow," Kitty continued. "But at least a boyfriend. A serious one, like someone who looks after you. I’m not going to force you; I just don't want you to be lonely, you know?"

Jenn's expression softened because deep down she understood her mother's fear. "I'm not lonely." The lie came a little too easily.

If she admitted she was, then she'd have to ask herself why the person she'd been thinking about all week wasn't one of the men in the photos her mother kept sending. 

“Anyway,” Jenn said, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Why are you even bothering me? Don't you and Dad have something better to do?”

Her parents had been called to Dublin three days earlier for a last-minute international branding event. It had apparently been mandatory, something about investors and a product launch that couldn't be postponed.

Unfortunately, it also happened to fall on today.

“I hope you know your father and I both feel terrible that we can't be with you today, love.”

Jenn's expression softened despite herself. “It isn't your fault.”

“We'll celebrate properly the moment we're home, alright?” There was something so genuinely apologetic in her mother's voice that Jenn couldn't find it in herself to be annoyed. “I mean it. We'll make the whole day about you.”

Jenn rolled her eyes, laughing, and muttered okay. 

“I have to go now, baby. Love you. Oh—and please,” Kitty added quickly before Jenn could hang up, “at least think about the young man I sent you.”

“I'll think about it.” She absolutely would not. 

Her mother sounded content, and the call ended a second later. Her eyes drifted toward the calendar sitting in the corner of her monitor.

Her birthday.

March 21st.

Twenty-seven. 

Somehow, she'd spent the morning buried in emails, avoiding thoughts about her failed resignation, and being sent eligible bachelors like they were quarterly investment opportunities. 

She reached for her coffee. Empty.

Of course it was.

Normally around this time, a certain insufferable man would've already appeared in her doorway, carrying a brown sugar cinnamon latte, acting like he didn’t buy it himself. 

She spent the rest of the day working and ordering two meals to the office in the span of four hours. When she finally packed her bag to leave for the day, it was around eight pm. She'd spent most of the day convincing herself she wasn't upset.

She wasn't in any hurry, and there wasn't really anyone waiting for her at home, so she walked out five minutes later carrying a bottle of water and a single vanilla cupcake. She found herself wandering toward the waterfront park a few blocks from her apartment.

Most of the benches overlooking the harbor were empty, so she sat facing the dark water. 

She opened the plastic container and stared at the cupcake, muttering to herself a happy birthday before taking a bite. It was sweeter than she'd expected and tasted way too rubbery. That shit was nasty. 

She put it down and just sat in silence on the bench, spending her birthday pretending it was just another Thursday. She was about to drink water when her phone started vibrating. 

She bite back a smile before answering. "Hello, what do you want, Christopher?"

"Bella, are you okay?" There wasn't even a greeting, and his voice sounded almost worried. "Where are you?” 

Jenn felt her heartstrings slightly tug. "...I'm fine. I just worked overtime today. I’m done now."

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Your concierge said you haven't come home yet, though."

He stopped by her house? “You stopped by my house?” 

"I..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah." Another pause. "Anyway... where are you?" he asked, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. "Are you with friends or something?"

“No, no, I'm just outside,” she sighed, looking ahead. “Getting air.” 

“It's late, Jenn, you shouldn’t be alone at this time—fuck.” She heard the sound of a car door closing. “Tell me where you are and I'll pick you up.”

“I’m fine, Chris, I'm literally just at the waterfront right outside my apartment. On the benches.” 

“Why—? Nevermind. Just stay there.” The line went silent. 

She stayed exactly where she was. About five minutes later, movement along the walking path caught her attention. She looked up.

Chris was walking toward her with long, purposeful strides, dressed far more casually than she'd ever seen him outside his home. A charcoal hoodie hung loosely over matching sweatpants, his hands shoved into the pockets until he reached her.

One hand emerged holding a small paper gift bag, the other carried a bouquet of red roses wrapped in cream-colored paper. He didn't smile right away and instead stopped directly in front of her, his eyes immediately scanning her face before looking around the nearly empty waterfront.

"What the hell are you doing out here?"

Jenn blinked. "...Sitting?"

"In the dark?" He gestured vaguely toward the quiet park surrounding them. "It's almost pitch black. Anything could happen. it's not fucking safe, Jenn."

She simply shrugged, too tired to argue with him, and more interested in what he brought with him. 

He seemed to have gotten the memo and looked at her for another second before his expression softened. Without another lecture, he held the flowers out toward her, softly smiling.

"Happy birthday, bella rosa."

Jenn stared at the bouquet for a moment before slowly taking it from him.

The roses were beautiful.

She looked back up at him, genuine gratitude written across her face. But also the rising emotions that at least someone had made time for her. She wanted to ask how he remembered, but that seemed obvious. 

“You really didn't have to get me anything,” she said quietly, glancing from the bouquet in her lap to the small paper bag still resting in his hand.

Chris lowered himself onto the bench beside her with a tired sigh.

“You're right.”

He leaned back, stretching one arm across the back of the bench.

“But even I'm not cruel enough to know you're spending your birthday alone and pretend I forgot.” A small smirk tugged at his lips. “As much as I barely tolerate you.”

Jenn rolled her eyes, though she couldn't stop the smile threatening to appear. “You're so generous.”

“I know.” He handed her the bag. “Now, open it.”

She pulled out a small white bakery box tied neatly with twine. Written across the lid in elegant icing were the words, Happy Birthday, Bella Rosa.

When she got a proper smell of the cake, her eyes widened.

“…Cinnamon Crazy Cake?” Chris watched her reaction with quiet satisfaction. “From Bakery & Bites?” Her voice climbed an octave, and Chris confirmed it with a grin. “How did you—”

She looked between him and the box again. It was her favorite cake in the world. The only reason she didn’t eat it often was that it was crazy unhealthy and located two hours away from Boston.  

His eyes didn’t leave hers for a second. “I’ll take that reaction as me nailing the flavour choice.”

“Chris, you didn’t have to do this…”

“It's just a cake, Bella.” He took out a lighter before lighting the singular candle. “Everyone deserves a cake on their birthday.” Chris nodded toward the tiny flame flickering between them. “Well?”

Jenn looked at him. “Well, what?”

He gave her an unimpressed look. “You have to make a wish before you blow out the candle.” She smiled despite herself, shaking her head.

For a moment, she couldn't think of anything to wish for. Usually, wishes came easily.  This year, nothing felt simple. Her mind had become a battlefield; she couldn't seem to quieten.

Then there was Chris, the man was sitting only inches away from her.

And when she looked at Chris, the same man she'd spent years insisting she disliked, the same man who somehow kept showing up whenever she needed someone most, the same man who had driven four hours for a cake, brought her coffee every morning, who held her while she cried… nothing about whatever existed between them made sense anymore.

She didn't know what he wanted.

She didn't know what she wanted.

Jenn closed her eyes.

Please...just give me clarity on whatever this is.

She opened her eyes again, then leaned forward and gently blew out the candle.

“What'd you wish for?”

“If I told you it wouldn't come true, Christopher.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Fair enough.” Then looked down at the cake before rubbing the back of his neck. "...I just realized. I don't exactly have a knife. I was planning on dropping it off at your apartment, not celebrating on a park bench."

She smiled, then closed the box lid halfway before looking back up at him. "Let's just bite it."

He stared at her for a long moment. "Actually?"

"Yeah, it's funny.” She giggled, leaned forward, and slid the box onto the bench between them. Then she pointed toward one side of the cake. "You take that side—” she motioned to the opposite side “—I'll take this one."

He leaned toward the opposite side of the cake, eyes glinting and assessing her. Jenn tried to ignore the way her heart was beating as his body moved closer and started to softly count. 

“1…2…3…” 

They both leaned in and took a bite from opposite sides of the cake at the same time. Jenn pulled back first, immediately covering her mouth as she laughed. "Oh, my God."

Chris chewed slowly, trying very hard to maintain whatever dignity he had left. "...Happy now?" 

She nodded enthusiastically, still laughing.

He muttered something under his breath before reaching over, using his thumb to wipe a small streak of cinnamon frosting from the corner of her mouth before she even realized it was there. Jenn’s cheeks warmed as she watched Chris nonchalantly lick the cream off his thumb. 

A few quiet moments passed before Chris finally broke the silence. “Why did you look so upset earlier, before I arrived? It didn’t seem like it was because of your parents.”

Of course, he had noticed that. 

“My age is just starting to feel a little too serious,” she replied. 

Chris let out a soft chuckle. “You're in your twenties. You'll be fine, Bella.”

“Late twenties,” she corrected him. She didn’t know what was coming over her, but she just wanted to tell him her problems. “I thought I’d have everything figured out by now, but I don’t. I used to think I’d be married by twenty-three and have a kid by twenty-seven. But nope. Everyone around me is posting their engagement posts, and I’m just falling behind.” 

Chris looked at her as if he thought she was talking nonsense. “Your frontal lobe isn’t even fully developed until you’re twenty-five.”

“Well, I’m already two years past twenty-five and still no husband.” 

Chris fell silent for a moment. She could see that his expression had turned serious, indicating he was deep in thought. He looked almost bitten. “So this is about your parents,” he stated confidently, without asking a question. 

“No, it’s—” Chris cut her off as if he knew she was about to lie.

"You've never cared about timelines." He continued before she could argue. "Or once talked about getting married 'before thirty' or having kids by some fucking deadline." He wasn’t wrong. "You’d only ever get married if it was because you found someone worth marrying."

She felt so put on the spot, but there was no falsehood in his words. 

"So, Bella, what changed?" 

She slumped her shoulders in defeat. There was no winning with Chris; the guy was too smart for his own good. “Fine, you’re right.” She looked over at him, expecting a triumphant laugh, but it never came; he maintained his serious expression. “My mother keeps trying to set me up with men and insists that I should at least get a boyfriend, but…” 

“But?” Chris prompted. 

Jenn searched for the right words.

"I don't know...I've had two serious boyfriends, and they weren't bad men, per se." Another pause. "But every time it felt like something was missing. I don't know how to explain it. I was happy enough. But I never felt..." She searched for the word. "...Known? I don't want someone who's objectively perfect but who lacks the ability to actually like me enough to have a genuine connection. Or maybe that's just unrealistic."

"No, it's not," Chris answered so quickly she looked at him. "It's not unrealistic."

She stayed quiet.

"I think people confuse marriage with accomplishment. Marriage isn't an accomplishment. It's a commitment." His gaze remained fixed on her face. "I've watched people rush into marriages because they felt behind, and half of them spent the next ten years realizing they'd married someone they barely liked."  

Jenn laughed bitterly. "That's... depressing."

"It's realistic." He shrugged before moving a strand of hair away from her face. Those damn butterflies filled her belly. "I'd rather see you single at fifty than married at twenty-seven to someone you slowly learn to resent, Bella." 

She beamed at him with genuine warmth this time, her eyes sparkling. “So, is that your master plan? To remain single until you hit fifty?” 

A playful smirk crept across his lips. “You’d be surprised, but my mom is actually on my case about this, too. She brings it up every single time we see each other. She wants to see me tie the knot soon, but that's just not possible.” 

Jenn’s gaze flickered toward him, curiosity piqued. “Is that the reason you haven’t settled down yet? Are you still figuring out what you truly want?” 

He shook his head firmly, a look of determination in his eyes. “No, I know exactly what I want and, more importantly, who I want.” His gaze darted over to her for just a moment, a hint of vulnerability surfacing. “But until the moment is right for me, I’ll just wait.” 

Jenn felt a lump form in her throat as a memory stirred within her. Who I want. She was transported back to that evening at the annual New York charity gala, where Chris had mentioned a woman he liked, someone who didn’t quite reciprocate his feelings. 

“Who exactly do you have in mind?” she ventured, her voice laced with curiosity. “Are you referring to the same woman you mentioned at the gala?” 

Chris’s expression momentarily shifted to one of confusion, but then a flicker of recognition sparked in his eyes as the memory washed over him. 

Chris’s expression briefly morphed into one of confusion, his brow furrowing slightly before a flicker of recognition ignited in his eyes. It was as if a distant memory had suddenly rushed back to him. “I told you that, didn’t I? Almost forgot.”

Intrigued and unable to suppress her curiosity, she leaned in a little closer, her eyes sparkling with interest. “So, who is this woman?”

Chris let out a dry scoff, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a teasing smirk. “Nosy, aren’t you?”

“Oh, come on,” she replied with a light laugh, though she felt a flutter of nerves bubbling in her stomach at the prospect of his answer. “Just tell me. I promise I wouldn’t tell a soul if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He fixed her with an intense gaze, his expression unreadable as he studied her.

“Would it bother you if I said it was you?”

Her stomach dropped as if she had just stepped off a ledge, and the entire world seemed to freeze around them. But as much as she searched for it, there was no playfulness in his voice.

Despite the turmoil welling inside her, she attempted to play it off lightly, forcing a casual smile as if her insides weren't swirling with unexpected excitement. Maybe this was her birthday wish unfolding. 

“Not as much as it should.” 

A glimmer of something crossed Chris' features before he dismissed it with a shake of his head. “I’m pretty sure I told you not to do or say things you don’t mean.” 

Jenn frowned, fully facing him now. "You don't get to say something like that and then pretend you were joking unless you are." Please don't be joking.

Chris looked away for a brief second, rubbing a hand across his mouth before looking back at her. "What exactly are you trying to say, Bella? You want to know if I mean what I just said?"

The question settled heavily between them.

Her confidence seemed to evaporate all at once.

"I..." She laughed awkwardly. Staring at the roses in her hand. How could he do all this for her and then claim it wasn’t more? "I'm trying to figure it out, but..." She looked back up at him, swallowing before hopefully asking, "...Do you have something you want to say?"

“...Even if I did,” Chris’s eyes searched hers for what felt like an eternity, as if he wanted to confess something but couldn’t bring himself to do it. “This isn’t the right time.” 

“...Why not?” 

“Because I don’t trust your judgment right now.” He shook his head gently to prevent any misunderstanding. “You’ve just had one of the hardest weeks of your life, and I’ve been here for you to lean on.” 

She hadn’t realized she could feel this way about Chris, but a small crack settled in her chest. 

He seemed frustrated with himself now. “I’ve been showing up for you. I would hate myself if, six months from now, you looked back and realized you only made a move towards me because I happened to be standing beside you when everything else was falling apart.”

His voice remained impossibly calm. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. I would never expect anything from you that you’re even slightly unsure of, Jenn.”

Jenn's eyes stung. She hadn't even considered all that.

"I want to make sure that if you ever choose me, it's because you couldn't imagine choosing anyone else. Not because I happened to find you in the worst month of your life." He leaned back against the bench. "So, no. I'm not having this conversation tonight. As I said, today and now is not the right time, as much as I wish it were."

"But..." Her voice was barely above a whisper now. "What could stop you when... when we're sitting right here?"

His shoulders stiffened, and his jaw so visibly tightened before a slow, heavy exhale escaped him.

"...Because I'm leaving, Rosa."

The words hit her like they had been shouted.

All she could let out was a strained. "...What?"

"I'm moving to Italy."

She searched his face for any hint that he was teasing her. There wasn't any. "For how long?"

"A while."

"Chris." He finally looked at her. "...How long is 'a while'?"

"It could be a year, probably two." He swallowed. “Maybe even longer."

"...Why?” It felt like the air had been pulled from her lungs. “Are you just moving for fun? You have everything you need and are built right here. In New York."

"You're right, Bella, but my mom's sick."

Oh my... "Sick?"

"Really sick, Rosa. The doctors estimate she has about a year left. But they're not certain," Pain laced his chill voice. "My mom wants to go home to spend whatever time she has left in Italy." He looked into Jenn's eyes for understanding. "I need to do this one last thing for her and fulfill her wishes." 

For the next minute, he talked about how Matt was getting married and mentioned that while he could travel to and from Italy, he couldn't stay there for an extended period. Nick was in a similar situation because his job required him to travel frequently. Only he himself had the flexibility to temporarily relocate his office for a longer duration.

Jenn felt tears welling in her eyes; she hadn't known his mother was ill. Both of his parents lived in Boston, away from New York. She was aware that Chris had a deep affection for his mother, and this situation must be incredibly difficult for him. Although he didn't express it outwardly, she could see the sadness in his eyes, and she wanted to comfort him. So she did.

Leaning forward, she gently wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. She remained completely silent, sniffing softly as a wave of sympathy washed over her. His head tilted down to meet her gaze.  

“I’m okay, Bella,” he said, cupping the back of her head with his hands. “Don’t cry for me. Someone just needs to be with her since my father is getting older.”  

Jenn felt a painful tightness in her throat as she pulled back to meet his gaze. He looked almost like a little boy trying desperately not to break down.

“I understand. You need to be there for her. Right now, that’s the most important thing.” She managed to force a weak smile before asking, “When are you leaving?”

"Tomorrow afternoon."

There went her heart again. 

She'd spent the last month slowly realizing she might have feelings for the man she could barely stand, and now he was leaving. For possibly years. She looked down at the bouquet still resting in her lap. The roses suddenly blurred.

"Oh..."

It was all she managed. Tiny and broken.

"That's why it isn't the right time."

Her voice cracked. "You never told me any of this."

"I know," he rubbed a hand over his face and stubble.  "...But there are a lot of things I haven't told you, Jenn." His voice sounded raw now. "I've spent so long convincing myself that none of it mattered because you couldn't stand me, and now..." Another bitter laugh escaped him. "...Fuck."

He was stumbling, and Chris never stumbled over his words. 

"I really wish this had unraveled differently. Instead, I'm leaving in three weeks for god knows how long." He finally looked back at her, cupping her cheek. “I don’t want to start something and then leave you tonight.” 

She immediately opened her mouth. "I—" 

"No. Listen, bella," He gestured vaguely between them. "I'd be asking you to put your life on hold for something neither of us has even had the chance to figure out. I'm not going to ask you to wait and hurt yourself along the way. So, please just tell me you understand. Promise me.” 

Jenn's heart felt as if it was shattering under the weight of her unspoken feelings. Even though Chris couldn’t bring himself to openly admit he liked her tonight, a painful clarity washed over her that he did. She faced the suffocating truth: he had always been a quiet constant in her life. The thought of him being out of reach tore at her, making her realize that between the arguments, there was appreciation that he was always there. 

"I promise, I understand," she finally choked out. Relief and heartbreak crossed Chris’s face at the same time. But the ache in her chest refused to ease. "...Can I ask you something?"

"Always."

"If we both know there's something here..." Her fingers tightened around the bouquet. "I don't think I could let myself get to know another man... knowing I'll always wonder what would've happened with you. A part of me would wonder if I walked away from the right person before we ever got the chance to find out?"

Chris stared at her like he were memorizing every detail of her face before he had to leave it behind.

"Is that what you're worried about? That by the time I come back, I won't want this anymore?" His voice was gentle.

Her silence answered for her. That was exactly what was bothering her. She always had been one to hate mystery.  

"Jenn, if that's what you're afraid of..." His voice was soft, so soft she could say it was a whisper. "...Don't be."

Her heart began pounding with suspense. 

"I'll always want you."

He simply said it as though it were an undeniable fact, like there had never been another possible outcome. Jenn felt her heart stumble so violently she almost forgot to breathe. She'd never felt this way before.  

Time seemed to have slowed, and they sat there for what seemed like hours. Chris looked impossible to read, and Jenn almost wished she hadn’t learned any of this tonight. 

But then Chris stood abruptly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"...Right." He bent down, carefully closing the cake box before lifting it into one hand.

"Come on, Bella—”  Before she could stand on her own, he offered her his free hand. “—The birthday girl's probably freezing. Let's get you home.” She took it. 

Chris adjusted the cake box beneath one arm before nodding toward the sidewalk leading back toward her apartment. Their shoulders brushed every few steps, neither of them making any effort to create more distance.

Neither of them felt the need to fill the silence because after years of hiding behind arguments, sarcasm, and pride, there was finally nothing left to pretend. 

Chris carried the cake the entire way.

Jenn carried the bouquet.

It felt strangely symbolic.

As they approached her apartment building, the doorman recognized them immediately, offering Jenn a warm smile before politely stepping back inside to give them privacy.

They stopped just outside the entrance.

Neither of them moved. Chris looked up at the building before letting out a quiet breath.

"...Well."

Jenn nodded. "...Well."

He held the cake out toward her and she reached for it carefully, their fingers brushing for the briefest second as she took the box from him.

"Happy birthday, Bella Rosa."

The nickname sounded softer than it ever had before. Looking down at the 'bella rosa's' in her hands before looking back at him. A weak smile found its way onto her face. "...Thank you."

Fuck this was so hard.

"...Take care of your mother, okay? Be good to her and your father too."

The smile on his face faded into something gentler. "I will."

Chris's eyes drifted downward without meaning to. To her lips. Jenn caught it.  However, his expression softened almost painfully before his gaze lifted back to her eyes.

She wondered if he was going to kiss her. It sure seemed like it. 

But he didn’t, not to the lips at least. 

His hand lifted, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a tenderness that made her chest ache, before soft lips rested gently against her forehead. Lingering. When he pulled back, he stayed close enough that she could still feel the warmth of his breath.

"Don't be a stranger, sweetheart."

Jenn looked up at him, committing every line of his face to memory. "I won't."

Chris gave one last promising nod, and then he was gone. 

ceyana’s note: welcome to second act angst. i love you, mwah <3

he's always found comfort in the feeling of nicotine filling his lungs and chest, it felt like a love his parents never provided. so not only did he find you insane when you brought up his addiction and quitting it, he was fucking bewildered even at the thought. people come and people go, but a cigarette never leaves you.

𓏵

“dabi, the heroes need me, i'll be back in a bit.” you announced from your bedroom while getting ready. dabi made his way to wherever your voice came from and leaned against the doorway. “yeah, shigaraki needs me too.” he watched you slip on your shoes and fix your hair quickly. you give him a peck and head towards the door.

“hey, remember not to use your fucking frostbite gaze for long. i'm not thawing you out again, doll.” he teases. “yeah yeah.” you mutter and close the door behind you. he stays where he is for a few moments, then ultimately decides to head out and get shigarakis task of the day off of his agenda.

𓏵

dabis almost always home first since he just goes out, lights some shit up, and heads home. he sits on the couch, gazing up at the ceiling like it held answers or something. he knew this feeling all too well; the craving of another temporary solution to his problems. he knows it's wrong, but you only live once, don't you?

he opens his bedroom door and starts rummaging through drawers, where did he hide them from you? he checks the mattress, the closet — right, they're under his nightstand, how could he forget? he's used to hiding a pack or two from you, and since you haven't found them yet, he can keep smoking them. right?

the sky is painted red and yellow as the sun goes down, and dabi makes himself comfortable as he leans against the wall of his apartment. he stares at the pack in his hands, waiting first, wondering just how much you'll hate him this time if he lit just one. “fuck it.” he sighs, taking out a stick and letting it hang from his scarred lips.

just one won't do any harm that hasn't been done already, he's already falling apart at the seams and held together by a few staples and a prayer or two. he pulls out his lighter and lets the flame meet the other end of the cigarette, he always loved the taste of the smoke.

“you said you quit.” a familiar voice spoke up in the distance, walking forward to reveal you. you looked tired, you always did after coming home, but this time, the fatigue mixed with something else; anger? disappointment? sadness? did you expect this? or was this a 'welcome home'? he couldn't tell this time.

dabi let out a sigh and snuffed out the cigarette on the bottom of his boot. “touya, you promised.” he paused at the use of his old name, the name he let nobody use, then stood up again. his expression was cold, his eyes were sharper, he looked different. “don't call me that. i'm not touya.” it didn't matter right now. whether he was touya or dabi, he still fucking promised that was the last one.

“you promised me that was the last one.” he doesn't answer, but his turquoise eyes are still on yours. he's well aware you're not happy about the situation, but there's nothing he can say to get himself out of this. you caught him. “i know.” it wasn't like you were expecting an apology or anything, but damn.

“you know? touya, do you even feel bad?!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in frustration. he catches your wrists and looks down at you. “'m not touya.” you pause for a moment, observing his unapologetic features. “dabi you fucking swore you'd quit. you promised, have you forgotten so soon that you were going to do it for me?!”

“doll, it's just one cigarette, alright?” he steps closer, letting go of your wrists. his features are so pretty close up, so lethal, like a poison he's trying to use on you to make you forget what you're even arguing about. “that's not the goddamn point! do you not understand what a promise is?!”

“shh, you're being too loud. the neighbors'll think 'm bullying you.” his teasing and playful tone and smirk only piss you off more, so naturally — like any good lover would, you grabbed the pack out of his pocket and threw it as far as you could. “doll! do you know how much i paid for those?!”

you wanted nothing more than to slap him in that moment. how could he not see you were trying to protect him? does he really not know or is he just being an idiot? “i care about you dabi, and watching you smoke days of your life away with every hit doesn't sit right with me!” you yelled at him, and he just watched you.

“i'll quit.” he said genuinely.

you looked at his eyes, this time they were serious, not like before when he would just dismiss you and do it again. “swear this time. promise you'll quit or i'll leave you.” he nods and messes with his three nose piercings for a moment. “alright. i swear i'll try my best to quit. for real this time.”

“c'mere, crybaby.” he opens his arms wide and gives you the option to come to him or stay away, he smirks when you hug him angrily. his big, calloused hand strokes your hair. “you're cold. you still overused your quirk didn't you.” it's not a question, he already knows. he scoffs, then chuckles.

dabi shakes his head and leads you inside. “oh, c'mon, you're not still mad are you? i just quit, doll.” you pouted in front of him, crossing your arms like a child thats been denied candy. “i'm still mad at you. make it up to me.” he laughs at your immature words and nods. “okay fine, just get inside. it's cold out here.”

CREDITS — DIVIDERS - @/dollywons @/feimingo @/chrisssiren HEADER - pinterest, merged by me

© atetheluck — editing, translating, or modifying my work in any way, shape, or form will result in immediate blockage. do not use my work for ai training, reposting without consent isn't tolerant.

He felt like a fucking asshole.

Chris hadn’t slept at all. How could he?

Jenn was curled up against him on his couch right now, peacefully asleep after crying herself sick in his arms over a deal that had been handed to him.

Chris leaned back deeper into the opposite couch, his eyes fixed on Jenn’s sleeping figure across from him.

At some point during the night, after she’d fully fallen asleep against his chest, he’d carefully carried her over to the larger sofa instead.

He’d grabbed one of the ridiculously overpriced cashmere blankets from the hallway closet and draped it over her before placing a pillow beneath her head as gently as possible.

And then he stayed awake, mostly.

He’d drifted in and out slightly, head tipped back against the couch cushions, but every time Jenn moved even a little, his eyes opened again automatically.

The sun started coming up around 5 AM.

Chris rubbed a tired hand over his jaw, eyes drifting back toward her again. She was still dressed from last night.

Her makeup had smudged slightly beneath her eyes from crying earlier. Her hair was messy now, long strands spread against her chest and shoulder. And even like this, she was still the prettiest thing he’d ever fucking seen.

He should tell her the truth.

He needed to tell her.

Movement caught his attention as Jenn stirred softly beneath the blanket, brows furrowing slightly before her eyes slowly blinked open. Disoriented. She pushed herself upright slowly, immediately looking embarrassed already.

Cute.

She glanced toward him. Chris had his eyes closed, still, head tilted slightly back against the couch like he was asleep. He wasn’t. Not even remotely.

He watched as Jenn quietly panicked. She hurried to fix her hair slightly with her fingers before quickly gathering her coat, purse, and phone from the coffee table as carefully and quietly as possible.

Like she was trying to escape before he woke up.

He almost smiled.

She wobbled slightly from standing in heels again after sleeping all night, awkwardly.

“Were you planning on leaving without telling me?”

Jenn jumped so hard she nearly dropped one of her heels. Her wide eyes snapped toward him instantly.

Chris slowly opened his eyes fully now, the corner of his mouth pulling upward faintly despite the exhaustion sitting in his face.

“You’re awake,” she whispered accusingly.

“Clearly.” His voice sounded rough from sleep.

Jenn looked mortified now. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You slept maybe four hours,” Chris watched her quietly for a second before sitting up slowly from the couch. “Where exactly do you think you’re going at five in the morning?”

Jenn awkwardly stood. “…Home?”

Chris raised a brow. “Barely conscious?”

“I’m conscious enough.”

“Mhm.” His eyes dragged briefly over her tired face. “You look like you got hit by a truck, Bella.”

“You’re so kind to me.” Jenn glared weakly. “Almost like the version of you from last night never existed.”

A quiet huff of amusement left him before his expression softened slightly again. “How are you feeling?” he asked more gently.

“I’m fine.” Jenn looked down awkwardly, still holding her shoes instead of putting them on. “I’m sorry for showing up here like that last night. You don’t seem like you got much sleep.”

“Nothing caffeine can’t fix,” Chris said quietly. “It’s alright.”

Jenn still looked embarrassed enough that he knew she was replaying every emotional thing she’d said last night in her head already. “I should probably get home. I have some things I should do before seven.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It is at five in the morning.”

“Chris, really, it’s okay.”

“No, Bella, just sit down for five minutes while I get dressed properly and take you home.”

She opened her mouth to argue again, but he was already walking backward toward the hallway.

“Don’t disappear,” he warned tiredly, pointing at her once before disappearing toward his bedroom. Five minutes later, he walked back out after quickly washing his face, brushing his teeth, and throwing on a fresh black hoodie. “Alright, let’s—” Chris stopped mid-sentence. The living room was empty. He stared at the empty spot on the couch for a second before dragging a hand down his face. “For fucks sake.” 

Of course, she left.

Chris grabbed his phone off the counter immediately, already about to text her when the screen lit up first.

JENN ➤ too slow, christopher. have a good morning ;) 

Leaning back against the kitchen counter, he stared at the screen longer than he probably should have, smiling.

Last night had changed something.

Seeing Jenn break down in his arms like that, he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t sit there pretending he deserved that acquisition more than she did when she’d worked herself sick trying to prove herself.

By the time noon rolled around, Chris had already bulldozed through half the meetings at his office with an unusually foul mood. At around one in the afternoon, he finally grabbed his keys and headed toward Richard Sienee’s office building. 

The entire drive there, he rehearsed what he was going to say.

Pull him off the acquisition.

Give it to another senior partner.

Hell, give it back to Jenn.

Chris headed toward Richard’s office without waiting to be announced. He’d been there enough times over the years that nobody stopped him anymore. 

“Christopher.” Richard looked up immediately when Chris walked in. “Perfect timing.”

Chris shut the office door behind him. “We need to talk about the Armand acquisition.”

“Actually, that’s exactly what I wanted to discuss with you.” Something in Chris’s chest tightened instantly as Richard leaned back in his chair, looking genuinely pleased for once. “Armand reviewed the proposal this morning, and he loved it.”

Chris’s stomach dropped.

“Said it was one of the strongest presentations he’s seen regarding the merger.” He shook his head approvingly. “You outdid yourself on this one.” 

Chris stared at him.

“He wants to move forward immediately. We’ll likely begin final negotiations within the week.”

Chris barely heard the rest of the sentence.

His eyes stayed fixed on the proposal sitting on Richard’s desk.

Chris felt something hot and furious settle in his chest. How the fuck could he look at his daughter’s work, decide she wasn’t capable enough for the acquisition, then hand the same proposal to Chris, only for it to suddenly become “brilliant”?

“Richard,” Chris said slowly. “Jenn wrote most of this proposal.” 

Something about his tone made Richard finally glance up properly. “Well, yes. Technically.”

“She did the work.” Chris’s voice sharpened now. “That means Armand approved her work.”

“And now we move forward carefully,” Richard replied calmly. “Exactly like I planned.”

Chris looked at him in disbelief. “You’re undermining your own daughter.”

Richard watched him carefully now. Making Chris realize how affected he looked by her.

“Christopher.” Chris looked back at him. “Is there something I should know about involving you and my daughter?”

“No.”

“Listen, son,” Richard sighed quietly and leaned back in his chair again. “I know you’re a smart man, and I’ve also been aware of your fondness for Jenn for a long time.” That made Chris’s eyes narrow slightly. “I understand why you’re upset. She’s like a sister to you.”

Chris’s expression flattened instantly. Richard clearly mistook the silence for agreement because he kept talking casually. “You’ve both grown up around each other. You’ve always looked out for her.” Richard gave a faint smile. “Frankly, I’m grateful for it.”

Chris felt something bitter twist in his chest. Sister, right. Richard knew the kinds of thoughts Chris had about his daughter; the man probably wouldn’t even let him within fifty feet of her anymore.

“She’s not incapable, Richard. At some point, you’re going to have to let her become her own person instead.”  

“You think I’m controlling my daughter?”

Chris didn’t answer but gave a sort of nod. 

“You're too emotionally invested in this.” Richard looked at him for a long moment. “I've been running this company for over thirty years.”

“And you've done it exceptionally well, Richard, but give me one good reason that she shouldn't be the one closing this deal.”

Richard didn't answer immediately; instead, he studied Chris. Like he was seeing something that had always been there, but he'd never bothered looking closely enough to notice.

“You're awfully passionate about this. You've never argued with me over decisions like this.”

“No, I haven't.”

“But now you're sitting in my office demanding I hand one of the biggest negotiations of the year to my daughter.”

Chris held his gaze.

Richard tapped his fingers once against the polished wood of his desk.

“You know... Kitty mentioned something interesting after the gala.” Chris's pulse slowed, face passive as he spoke. “She said she thought the two of you looked... comfortable together.”

Chris didn't react. 

“Never mind, actually...” Richard watched him for another moment before giving a small, dismissive shake of his head. “I'd probably be more suspicious if I didn't know my daughter. She has never exactly hidden how she feels about you.”

The words landed harder than Chris expected.

“She even told Kitty once she'd rather stay single forever than end up with you,” Richard continued, distracted by paperwork. “But don’t worry, son, I think you’re a catch.” 

Chris stood frozen. “Right.”

It was the only word he trusted himself to say, because if he spoke any more than that, Richard might hear just how badly his heart had cracked. 

“Richard,” Chris began, his voice calm again, though there was an unmistakable firmness underneath it. “I respect you, but I cannot stand behind what you're doing. If you won't let her close it…then take me off it.” 

“I can't. The engagement letter was signed this morning. The paperwork's already been filed,” Richard eyes him. “The French team has been informed. You're officially leading the acquisition.”

Fuck.

There was no pulling out now without jeopardizing months of negotiations, damaging Richard's relationship with Armand Group, and potentially costing both companies millions.

His mind immediately started racing through alternatives to somehow at least get her involved.

A knock interrupted the room.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir,” Richard's secretary stepped inside, tablet tucked against her chest. “Your daughter is here.” The secretary continued. “She said she wanted a word with you.”

Richard glanced briefly toward Chris before nodding. 

Chris's pulse immediately picked up.

Not now. Please not now.

The office door opened a few seconds later, and Jenn stepped in.

She was dressed far more casually than she'd been the night before, though she still looked effortlessly put together. A cream blouse tucked into tailored trousers, her hair neatly tied back again, sunglasses resting on top of her head.

Chris felt some of the knot in his chest loosen at the sight of her.

Jenn stopped mid-step. “…Chris, what are you doing here?”

For a split second, Chris forgot how to answer, because the truth—I'm here trying to convince your father to give you back the deal that I unknowingly stole from you—wasn't exactly an option.

So he settled for the safer lie. “We were discussing some stuff about the merger.”

“That makes sense.” She smiled politely at him. One that made the guilt come rushing back twice as hard. “I'll be quick.”

“So...” Richard cleared his throat gently. “What was it you wanted to talk about?” Jenn shifted the leather folder tucked against her side into both hands. “Is... this private? If it is, Christopher can give us the room.”

Chris was about to leave, but Jenn shook her head. 

“No, he can stay.” Jenn offered him a small, almost awkward glance before looking back at her father. “I'd actually prefer if he did.”

Jenn suddenly seemed far less confident than she'd looked walking in. Her fingers were gripping the folder too tightly, and her shoulders had stiffened. Like she was mentally rehearsing whatever she was about to say for the hundredth time.

Richard noticed too. “So…what is it, darling?”

Jenn inhaled slowly.

“I...” She smiled weakly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. “I'm putting in my two weeks. I'll make sure all of my current projects are transitioned properly. I've listed everything that's still pending, and I’ll finish them. I'll even happily help train whoever takes over my accounts.”

Not what anyone in the room expected to hear.

Chris couldn’t even speak; he was lost for words. He didn’t even expect this today. But Richard's face was hard to read.

“You're resigning?” 

Jenn nodded once towards her father. 

“No.”

Oh?

Jenn looked panicked. “No?”

“I don't accept it, Jenn.”

Jenn gave a tiny, tired smile. “I had a feeling you'd say that.”

“This is because of yesterday.” Richard finally picked up the folder, flipping through the first page without really reading it. “You’re acting out emotionally. You’ll get over it.” 

Jenn was quiet for a moment. “Father, I’m being serious.” 

Richard set the folder down a little harder than before. “You had one disappointment, and now suddenly you're quitting the company? You're letting your emotions make permanent decisions, Jenn.”

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her purse. “I don't... I don't feel fulfilled here anymore. I'm not happy here.”

“Jenevieve.” Richard pinched the bridge of his nose. Chris didn’t like the way he said her name. “I hate having to get upset with you, Jenn. But you've been pushing me lately. You're standing in my office handing me a resignation letter because I didn't give you one deal.”

She looked so close to breaking down. “Father, you're not listening to me.”

“I think you're embarrassed, so now you're convincing yourself you've hated this company all along.” Richards' voice was disappointed and angry. 

Chris watched Jenn's face fall, and he didn’t like the way Richard was talking to her. She looked desperate to make him understand. 

“That isn't what this is. I really am trying.”

“Then do a better damn job.”

Chris didn't like that one bit.

“Richard.” Both of them turned toward him. Chris's voice wasn't raised; if anything, it was quieter than before. “With respect...You're not letting her finish a single sentence.”

Richard looked at him disapprovingly. “This is between my daughter and me, and I intend to keep it that way.” He picked up the resignation letter from his desk, folded it neatly once before dropping it into the wastebasket beside his desk. Chris and Jenn's faces drained of color. “I won't be accepting your resignation, Jenn.”

Chris kept his hands buried so deeply in his pockets that his knuckles had turned white. He listened to Jenn keep going on this back and forth. Richard shuts her down each time. Every sentence Richard spoke made perfect business sense. And yet...not once had he asked Jenn what she wanted. 

Suddenly, she gently stepped away from it. “...Fine.” She didn't look at him. Her breathing had become unnaturally controlled, the way it always did when she was trying not to let herself cry.

Then she was gone. 

Richard let out a long sigh, rubbing a tired hand over his forehead, muttering something under his breath. 

“Is this what you wanted, Richard?”

Richard looked up. “What?”

“For her to leave your office feeling like that.”

Then he walked out. He started walking quickly through the executive floor, passing assistants who immediately stepped aside at the sight of him. He made his way and opened Jenn's office door. 

Jenn was curled into the corner of the small sofa against the window, her heels abandoned near the coffee table. Her face was buried in both hands, while her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

She looked up the moment she heard the door. Their eyes met, making Chris notice the smudged mascara beneath her eyes again.

“Chris...” Her voice broke immediately, he quietly shut the door behind him, and she wiped furiously at her face. “Go…” He didn't move. “Please.” Still nothing. “I don't...” She laughed weakly through another sob. “I don't want you seeing me like this again.”

“I don't care.” I just want you to be happy.

She gestured toward the door with a shaky hand. “Just... go.”

Chris crossed the room instead, stopping directly in front of her. “You're hurting, Bella.”

She shook her head stubbornly, as another tear slipped down her cheek. She looked exhausted, like she'd finally run out of strength. Chris couldn't watch it anymore. Without another word, he bent down in front of her and slid one arm carefully behind her back. 

Before she could protest, he lifted her effortlessly into his arms. Jenn let out a small gasp, instinctively wrapping an arm around his shoulders so she wouldn't fall. She didn’t try to stop him when he touched her. His voice remained calm as he adjusted her weight against his chest.

For a second, she looked like she was going to say some snarky remark, her forehead slowly dropped against his shoulder, and the fight left her all at once. 

Another quiet sob escaped her.

“He shouldn't get to speak to you like that, Bella.” Chris instinctively pulled her a little closer, one hand continuing its slow path up and down her back. “I don't care if he's your father.”

Jenn stayed tucked against him, her eyes closed. “He... doesn't usually get that upset with me. He'll probably call me later and apologize in his own way. He'll send dinner over or ask if I need anything.”

Chris's jaw tightened. “That isn't an apology.”

 “It's just how he is.” She sighed. “He means well. I know he does—”

“That doesn't make it acceptable…” Chris gently leaned back just enough to see her face properly, one hand coming up to brush another tear from beneath her eye with his thumb.“... so don't do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make excuses for someone else's behavior because you love them.”

She looked away. “He's my father.”

His voice remained calm, but something was simmering underneath it now. His voice was firmer this time. “Stop trying to convince yourself your feelings aren't real just because they make other people uncomfortable.” 

Jenn stared into his eyes, and he couldn’t imagine how someone could look at those eyes and make them tear up. 

“He threw your resignation in the garbage, Jenn.” She flinched. “He didn't even read it or ask why. He decided you were wrong before you finished speaking.” His voice was getting harder with every sentence. “And somehow you're sitting here defending him.”

Jenn instinctively reached for his wrist.

“He's not a bad person.”

Chris respected Richard, so much, but not as much as he loved Jenn deep down in his heart.

“Bella,” His frustration finally slipped through. “The man just watched his daughter tell him she's miserable.” Chris's hands tightened around her just slightly before he caught himself and relaxed them again. “It made me sick to watch.”

“I can't stand watching people make you feel small.”

“Why?” She searched his face. The question came out so quietly he almost missed it. “Why does it bother you so much, hm?”

On the outside, Chris feigned indifference, but his heart was racing.  A hundred truthful answers were sitting on the tip of his tongue.

Because every time you cry, it feels like someone's squeezing my heart. 

“Because,” His thumb gently brushed another tear from her cheek, as he forced the safest answer he could manage, “I’ve seen so much injustice happen in this industry, and as much as you're a pain in the ass, you work hard.”

Jenn let out a quiet sound that landed somewhere between a laugh and another sob. The tears had stopped, and her breathing gradually evened out. She was still standing close to him, backed lightly against the wall beside the sofa. Chris hadn't realized how little space remained between them until he looked at her again.

Her eyes were no longer glassy with tears. He became acutely aware of everything. Without thinking, he reached up and tucked a strand of hair gently behind her ear. He intensely watched as her chest rose up and down. 

She was fucking turned on.

He could sense female arousal way so quick.

She was looking at him differently. Her lips parted slightly, cheeks red, and that look that screamed touched me.  She leaned forward. Barely an inch, but it was enough. Enough for Chris to know exactly what would happen if neither of them moved. Every instinct in him screamed to close the distance. He'd imagined kissing her more times than he cared to admit.

But Richard's voice echoed in the back of his mind.

She even told Kitty once she'd rather stay single forever than end up with someone like you.

Doubt crept all over his body. 

He couldn’t do this, not like this.

She was still hurting and high on emotions. Vulnerable enough that tomorrow she might question whether she had really wanted it at all. So, although his brain wanted to take this chance, his heart knew he couldn’t do that to her. Chris took one deliberate step backward.

Her cheeks flushed immediately, and she touched her forehead, looking down. “I'm... I'm sorry.” Another embarrassed laugh escaped her. “I am so sorry.” She covered half her face with her hand. “I—I was not thinking…” 

He didn’t want to admit the fact that he liked watching her be all nervous because of him. 

“Well... if you're going to stand there judging me, at least move.” She placed a hand against his chest and gave him a gentle shove. He didn't budge, and Jenn frowned. “Christopher, move.”

She pushed again. 

He tried to turn down the turmoil happening in his chest because she had just tried to kiss him. She made the first move. “So why are you trying to run away now, Bella?”

“Because I'd like to preserve the tiny amount of dignity I have left.” 

She tried to slip around him by reaching up to nudging his shoulder again. However, this time, before she could pull her hand back, Chris brought his hand up and settled at the back of her head, fingers threaded carefully into her hair. Not painfully. Just enough that she instinctively stilled.

Chris lowered his head slightly until they were only inches apart, eyes never leaving her dumbfounded ones. 

“Don't do that again, Jenn.”

His voice had lost every trace of amusement.

“Do... what?”

“Try to cross a line when you don’t mean it.”

Jenn’s lips parted, but she took long to answer that a sharp knock sounded against the office door.

“Ms. Sienee?” A muffled voice came from outside. “Are you in there?”

The spell broke instantly. Chris shut his eyes for a brief second before letting out a quiet, disbelieving laugh at himself. Another knock.

Then, before letting go completely, his fingers gave the slightest tug through her hair, just enough to draw another surprised breath from her. Then leaned close, just enough so she could hear, and that was the last thing he said before leaving abruptly. 

“Quando finalmente ti bacerò, voglio che tu mi senta addosso ovunque, cazzo, mia bella rosa.”

ceyana’s note: lets act like i didn't ghost. heh. i love you, mwah <3