The villa had gone quiet. Rainclouds drifted across the pale morning sky, leaving soft shadows through the tall windows. Inside, Andrea closed Eunwoo's bedroom door with a firm click, shutting out the rest of the world.
"Sit," she ordered, her tone clipped, steady.
Eunwoo arched a brow at her command but obeyed, lowering himself onto the corner of the bed. The sheets rustled under his weight, and though he masked it well, the stiffness in his shoulders betrayed the pain that lingered from her flip earlier.
Andrea stayed a few feet away, arms folded, eyes sharp as if distance alone could maintain control of the situation. "Where exactly does it hurt?" she asked.
He looked at her, a smirk tugging at his mouth. "You think you can see pain from there? Or… did you plan to treat me without touching me?"
Her jaw tightened. "That's not what I meant. Just tell me."
He leaned back slightly, eyes glinting with amusement. "Then come closer, Cat. I won't bite."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm not a cat."
"Ohhk, ohhk." He chuckled low, the sound dangerous in its ease. "Then you're a hotshot who flipped me flat on my back. Fair enough."
Andrea finally stepped forward, ignoring his teasing, her fingers brushing his arm as she began scanning carefully for bruising. The tension in the room thickened instantly. His skin was warm under her touch, muscles taut, and he didn't look at the places she checked—his gaze stayed locked on her face, studying every flicker of her concentration.
"You've strained your shoulder," she murmured, pressing lightly.
Eunwoo's lips twitched. "Not just my shoulder."
She looked up, narrowing her eyes. "Where else?"
His voice dropped, almost a whisper: "On my back. Neck. Shoulder."
Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to stay professional. "Turn," she commanded softly.
He obeyed, shifting so his back faced her, the white of his shirt stretching across broad shoulders. She stood behind him, fingertips ghosting over the nape of his neck, feeling the tension coiled there.
"Here?" she asked, pressing lightly.
His voice came low, nearly a growl. "Lower."
Her hand drifted down the line of his spine, her breath uneven. "Here?"
"Closer," he said, his tone velvet but edged with command.
Her face was too near now, lips almost brushing the curve of his shoulder as her fingers worked gently into the tight muscles. Andrea's voice faltered, softer, weaker. "…Here."
"Yes," Eunwoo breathed, tilting his head back slightly, closing his eyes. "Exactly there. Massage that. Now."
The authority in his tone made her hesitate, but her fingers obeyed before her mind could argue. She kneaded the knots in his neck, slow, deliberate movements that betrayed both her training and the trembling tension in her hands.
The silence burned between them. His breathing slowed, deepened. Her own heartbeat felt impossibly loud in her chest.
And then—without warning—Eunwoo's hand shot back, gripping her wrist.
In one fluid motion, he pulled her forward. She stumbled, caught off guard, and the next moment she was no longer standing—she was in his lap, his arm locked firmly around her waist.
Her breath caught. His eyes, dark and sharp, were much too close now.
"Now," he murmured, voice low against her ear, "massage and treat my injuries from here."
Andrea's pulse thudded, panic and heat battling in her chest. "Eunwoo—"
"What?" His smirk curved like a blade. "Afraid to touch me?"
"I said I'd help you, not—this." She tried to push against his chest, but his hold tightened. Not painfully, but unyielding.
"Then help me," he said, quieter this time, his breath warm against her cheek. "Unless you plan to let me suffer."
Andrea's eyes darted over his face. He wasn't joking—not fully. Beneath the teasing tone was something rawer, darker. A weight in his gaze that wasn't just about pain.
Slowly, cautiously, she let her hands rest against his shoulders again, pressing into the muscles, forcing herself to stay steady. Her movements were precise, clinical, but the position—her sitting across his lap, his hand still firm against her back—made it impossible to ignore the heat crackling between them.
"You're reckless," she muttered.
"You flipped me," he reminded her, his smirk curving wider. "Maybe I should keep you close until you learn your strength."
"Or until you stop provoking me."
He tilted his head, studying her. "But if I stop… would you still look at me like this?"
Andrea froze, her hands halting mid-press. "Like what?"
"Like I'm both your problem and your cure." His voice was velvet-dark, threading through the silence.
Her heart stuttered, but she forced her composure. "You're delusional."
"Maybe." He leaned in closer, close enough that the heat of his breath grazed her skin. "But then why aren't you pulling away?"
Her hands tightened on his shoulders, nails pressing faintly through the fabric. She wanted to say something sharp, to end the moment, but the words refused to come.
Instead, she whispered, almost to herself, "Because you need me right now."
For a moment, Eunwoo said nothing. His smirk faded into something else—something unreadable, heavy, almost vulnerable. But then it was gone, replaced again by that teasing curve of his mouth.
"Good answer, Cat," he murmured.
"I'm not—" she began.
But his arm drew her infinitesimally closer, silencing her with the quiet weight of his presence.
The room felt smaller. The world outside ceased to exist. And in that silence, with Andrea perched in his lap and her hands pressed against his body, both of them understood something neither dared to speak yet:
This wasn't just about injuries.
It was about the dangerous pull between them—one that neither was ready to sever.
.⋆˚࿔♡ ༘⋆｡˚ .⋆｡⋆｡⋆｡⋆｡♡｡⋆｡⋆｡⋆｡⋆. .⋆˚࿔♡⋆.
Eunwoo's gaze lingered on her face, sharp but softened by something unspoken. Andrea's hands moved carefully across his shoulders, kneading away tension, though her touch betrayed the nervous edge creeping into her. He noticed it instantly—her hesitation, the flicker in her eyes.
"So, Ms. Yeldiz," he said quietly, breaking the silence, "can I know what you did today… when I wasn't around?"
Her brows drew together. "I'm just… Wait. Why do you want to know, sir?" she asked, her voice uncertain.
His eyes closed briefly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I'm only asking. But it's up to you if you want to tell me." His voice dropped softer, more deliberate. "Though I have something to tell you as well."
Andrea stilled for a heartbeat, her fingers still pressing lightly against the curve of his neck. She leaned closer, eyes searching his. "What do you have to tell me?"
But Eunwoo only smirked, tilting his head back. "First, you."
Andrea sighed, shifting her weight as her hands continued their steady rhythm over his tense muscles. "I was just helping Layla. Taking out her fear of combat fighting. She's good with guns, yes—but when it comes to hand-to-hand, she freezes. I wanted her to learn how to fight without relying on a weapon."
Eunwoo chuckled, low and dangerous. "Are you sure, Cat? Because if she isn't good in a fight… or with a gun… then she'll never be in my team."
Andrea's eyes flashed, catching his in challenge. "Are you serious?" she asked, voice sharper.
He turned his head slightly, and for a moment their gazes locked—his steady and unreadable, hers demanding answers.
"I am," he said simply.
Andrea drew in a breath, regaining her composure. "Fine. That's what I've told you. Now," she pressed her fingers harder into the tense muscle near his collarbone, "it's your turn, Boss. What is it that you wanted to say?"
His lips curved, a smile but not the playful one she expected. It was softer this time, yet edged with something that made the air between them heavy.
Eunwoo's voice dropped, deep and steady. "Andrea…"
She froze at the sound of her name on his tongue, waiting.
"I want to marry you," he said, not as a question, but as a declaration. "In three days."
The words struck the air like a blade.
Andrea's hands faltered, her breath catching in her throat. For a second, her mind refused to process what she'd just heard. Her fingers pressed harder, unconsciously channeling strength she usually kept hidden. Energy surged beneath her touch, wild, untamed—enough to make him wince.
"A—ah," Eunwoo hissed softly, his body tensing under her sudden burst of force.
Andrea's eyes widened as she realized what she was doing. She pulled her hands back sharply, staring down at him in shock. "You… what did you just say?" Her voice cracked slightly, trembling between disbelief and fury.
Eunwoo straightened, a flicker of pain across his face, though he masked it with that damned smirk. "You heard me." His gaze never wavered. "In three days. I'm marrying you."
Andrea staggered a step back, her chest rising and falling quickly. Her lips parted but no words came at first. She looked at him like he had just declared war.
"You can't be serious…" she finally whispered.
But the way Eunwoo's eyes burned into hers told her the truth. He was dead serious.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Eunwoo's groan cut the silence like a blade. His hand instinctively shot out, gripping Andrea's waist as he pulled her closer. Her body stiffened, her eyes widening at the sudden contact. She could see his jaw tighten, the faint wince as pain coursed through him.
"What are you doing?" he hissed under his breath, though his voice carried more frustration than anger.
Andrea's lips parted, guilt flickering in her expression. She was about to stammer an apology, but Eunwoo's gaze stopped her. He studied her intently, and in that sharp look, he realized something—it wasn't intentional. The surge of power, the wild strength she had used, hadn't been a conscious choice. It was instinct. Reaction.
He let out a dry, short chuckle and leaned back, wincing slightly as he muttered, "Ohk, I'm fine… Don't overthink."
Andrea's eyes lit with relief, though the worry didn't fade entirely. She still hovered close, her hands curling into fists at her sides. Then, her voice broke the fragile quiet:
"Why this sudden marriage plan?" she asked, her tone steady but her eyes betraying confusion. "We didn't even announce the engagement properly, Eunwoo."
He didn't flinch, didn't even hesitate. "Because it's good for me. For us. For this mission." His tone was blunt, almost too calm, but his eyes were sharp, watching every flicker of her reaction. "Don't forget… we need to find the real face behind those blue drugs. And your connection to it."
Andrea's brows furrowed, her voice tightening. "Clarify. Why in the next three days?"
He rubbed at his neck where her strength had left a dull ache, wincing once more. "Because waiting longer only gives them more chances. The timing matters. And…" his voice dropped into something darker, heavier, "because others are moving faster than I expected."
Her jaw clenched. Andrea yanked herself free from his grip and spun toward the door. The sharp rhythm of her footsteps echoed, only to return minutes later. When she came back, she was holding a cold eye pack.
Without a word, she pressed it against his neck.
Eunwoo arched a brow, unimpressed by her attempt at caretaking. "Not surprised. You're learning to hide it better. But be careful, Cat. If you can't control that power, it'll end up controlling you."
"I'm not a cat!" Andrea snapped, pressing the pack harder against him.
"Cool down, lady." His lips curved faintly, teasingly. "I'm a man. You don't scare me."
Andrea's eyes narrowed. "Yeah. A man who always makes decisions without thinking."
He smirked, accepting the jab. Then his expression shifted, dropping the humor. "Call your dad."
Her eyes darted to him. "Why?"
"He wants to talk to you," Eunwoo replied flatly. "And I want him to hear this from me too."
Andrea hesitated, but finally pulled her phone out and dialed. The line connected, and the deep, familiar voice of Dimitry Volkov echoed through the speaker.
"My daughter," Dimitry greeted warmly, the sound grounding Andrea for a brief moment. "Ohk, so how are you doing?"
Andrea's lips tugged upward faintly. "I'm fine, Dad. And why do you keep forgetting I'm not normal? I can handle myself."
Dimitry chuckled softly, then his tone shifted, more serious. "Eunwoo told me about the attack last night. Are you really fine?"
"Yes," Andrea answered quickly. Then her gaze flicked to Eunwoo, who hadn't moved his eyes off her since the call began. "Don't worry."
Dimitry paused. Then his voice lowered, cautious. "Did he find out?"
Eunwoo's answer came before Andrea's lips could move. "Yes, Mr. Volkov. I found out." His voice was cool, steady. "And that's why I told her—we're marrying in three days."
Andrea's head snapped toward him, eyes wide, but he didn't flinch.
There was silence on the other side of the call. Dimitry finally spoke, his tone sharp. "Why so sudden?"
Eunwoo's smirk flickered. "Because your so-called brother tried to set me up with another woman. I don't want her. Not Seorii. Not anyone else."
Andrea's head tilted, curiosity gleaming in her eyes as she muttered, "Seorii?"
Eunwoo turned sharply to her, genuinely surprised. "How do you know?"
Andrea leaned against the dresser, crossing her arms with a faint smirk tugging her lips. "I can see it in her eyes. The way she looks at you. There's love there. Obvious."
His lips pressed together, faintly annoyed but unwilling to show it. "It doesn't matter. I'm marrying you, Andrea."
The words hung between them, heavy.
On the phone, Dimitry broke the silence. "What do you say, sweety?" His voice was calmer now, but laced with thought.
Andrea rolled her eyes, speaking quickly. "It's fake, Dad. From my side, at least."
"Yeah, yeah," Eunwoo added lazily, leaning back against the bed frame. "Fake. For everyone else. Not real."
The pause on Dimitry's end was long enough to make Andrea shift uncomfortably. Then, his voice came, lower, teasing, the way only a father who knew too much could sound.
"Well…" Dimitry said slowly, "I don't mind if it turns real."
Andrea's cheeks burned instantly, her head snapping toward the phone. "Dad!"
Eunwoo's smirk widened, the devilish curve of it lighting his face as he leaned closer to her ear. "You heard him, Cat. Even your father doesn't mind."
Andrea's hand twitched like she might slap him with the ice pack still in her grip. Instead, she turned on her heel, muttering curses under her breath, while Eunwoo leaned back, chuckling lowly at her retreating form.
And for the first time since he'd walked into this mission, his laugh wasn't cold.
⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩
Eunwoo rubbed the back of his neck, still wincing faintly from Andrea's earlier strength, then looked at Dimitry's face on the screen. His lips curved into that half-mocking smirk he wore when he wanted to stir trouble.
"Sir, sir… cut, cut," he said, gesturing with his free hand. "Your daughter is fire. I can't live with her. She's not even my type."
The words had barely left his mouth when Andrea's eyes snapped wide open. She turned toward him so fast that her hair brushed across his cheek.
"What did you just say?" Her voice carried sharp disbelief, but her tone had that dangerous edge Eunwoo secretly enjoyed. "I am everyone's type. Even in Istanbul, ohkk?"
Eunwoo leaned back against the headboard, his smirk deepening. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Cat. But if you really were my type—" his voice dropped lower, smoother, almost daring, "—I'd die for it."
Andrea froze, blinking at him, her lips parting slightly at the sudden switch in tone. Heat crept up her neck before she could shove it down, and she clenched her fists to steady herself.
On the other end of the call, Dimitry cleared his throat loudly, trying to cut through the sparks flying between them. "Guys, guys…" he chuckled under his breath. "Enough of this game. I have to go now. But listen well—" his voice sharpened into his authoritative tone, "—I approve. Three days. Marriage mission. Approved from my side."
The line went dead before Andrea could protest.
For a moment, the room was wrapped in silence. Only the sound of their breathing filled the space. Andrea turned slowly, only to realize how close they had gotten. Too close. Her hand was still near his shoulder, his arm resting just above her waist, and their faces were tilted at an angle that made it look like one wrong move could pull them into each other's orbit.
Her pulse betrayed her.
Eunwoo, of course, noticed.
His gaze lingered on her eyes, then her lips, before flicking back up with a sly, knowing grin. Andrea narrowed her eyes instantly, masking the way her heart had just skipped.
"Wrong position," she muttered, pulling back a step, trying to break the invisible tension.
"Perfect position," he countered smoothly, his smirk never wavering.
Andrea shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass, but the faintest flush remained on her cheeks. Eunwoo leaned back further on the bed, satisfied, while Andrea turned away in a hurry, muttering curses in Turkish under her breath.
He chuckled low, his voice just loud enough for her to catch. "Fire, indeed."
And that fire, Andrea realized with a clenched jaw, was only going to burn hotter in the next three days.