I don't want to die.
The seconds stretched, silence enveloping her, but the pain of impact never came. Instead, she felt something—someone—pull her back. A strange, electric sensation wrapped around her, steadying her as she teetered on the edge of falling.
The cold raindrops hit her skin, and she realized with a start that her umbrella had slipped from her hand. She slowly opened her eyes, and all she could see was a face—a pretty face, framed by dark, wet hair that clung to his forehead. Water dripped from his strands, running down his sharp jawline and into the collar of his soaked jacket. His features were striking: high cheekbones, a strong nose, and lips that, despite the rain, appeared impossibly soft. His eyes were closed, his face calm and focused, yet there was an undeniable intensity to his expression even in that stillness.
She didn't understand what was happening, but all she could focus on was the warmth radiating from him. Her right hand still held the umbrella, but it tilted in such a way that it barely shielded them from the rain. Her left hand was frozen, caught in the moment, suspended in time. Her right foot hovered on its tiptoe, trying to balance her, but it wasn't her foot that saved her from falling—it was the firm hand around her waist, pulling her closer, pressing her against him.
He feels warm, she thought, almost in a daze. She couldn't make sense of it—the cold rain, the warmth of his body. The contrast was overwhelming.
Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of sensations. Before she could gather her thoughts or react, the strange pull she'd felt earlier—warm and tangible—became clear. His lips were already on hers. It wasn't a brush or a touch, but a full, unexpected press, quick and intense, like a spark igniting in the midst of a storm. There was no warning, no hesitation. It was as if his lips had found hers of their own accord, leaving her no time to understand what was happening.
The rain continued to pour, but for her, everything else faded into nothingness—no sounds, no thoughts, just the rush of confusion and the sensation of warmth amidst the cold. Her body felt suspended in the kiss, unable to comprehend its meaning.
How does it feel to be kissed? she had wondered moments ago. Now, her body felt suspended in that very question, unable to comprehend the sensation fully.
For a fleeting moment, time seemed to stop around them. The world grew muffled, like a dream in which every detail was distorted, blurred.
"We lost him, split up!" A man's voice shouted from behind them, his words cutting through the stillness.
"I saw him run straight. Let's go!" another voice followed, distant but urgent.
Erion's expression never wavered. With a quick, fluid motion, he pulled away from the woman, his lips curling into a smirk as he pressed a device in his ear.
"Code green. They're out. Is 721 safe?" His voice was calm, efficient—like he was speaking to a subordinate, not acknowledging the woman who stood frozen in front of him, still reeling from the kiss.
The woman, still stunned, blinked, trying to make sense of the moment. Did he just... She tugged the umbrella back over her head, feeling a shiver run down her spine. Her mind raced, struggling to piece together the events.
Did I just see someone with a gun?
As she thought this, Erion glanced over at her one last time, a change in his demeanor. His serious expression softened, and for a brief second, he appeared almost charming—his face now approachable, his voice light.
"Hi! Just got a little out of hand. Anyways, thank you for your help. See you around!" He gave a quick, easy wave, as though the brief moment they shared meant nothing. But before she could respond, he was already turning away, his face hardening back into that cold mask.
She was left standing there, utterly confused. The stranger who had stolen her first kiss had already disappeared into the night, and all she could do was watch him go.
A moment later, she found herself alone again in the street, surrounded by the remnants of the storm. The warmth of his touch was still lingering on her skin, but the reality of what had just happened hit her.
"He didn't even apologize!" she shouted, a mix of bewilderment and frustration bubbling up as she realized he was already gone.
INT. EVAH'S APARTMENT 9 pm
Evah sighed, leaning back as she sat down. "I think he's a criminal."
Yuka's voice faltered, concern creeping in. "What?! Evah, you should be careful! I was supposed to dive into that case, but I got told to back out. Seems like there are connections we don't know about."