The next morning, the gray light of Seoul barely filtered through the drawn curtains, a pale, cold glow sliding over the still-rumpled sheets.
Nari opened her eyes in the comforting warmth of an arm wrapped around her waist.
Her boyfriend breathed softly against her neck, a calm, steady, almost tender breath — a quiet normality that seemed to belong to another life, to a version of her that no longer existed.
For a few seconds, she forced herself to believe in it.
To believe that her world hadn't tilted, that this simple softness could still protect her from the fire devouring her from the inside.
— I have to head to work, her boyfriend murmured, kissing her forehead, his warm lips placing a gesture far too gentle for the state of her soul. Rest, my love.
The door closed softly behind him.
Silence fell.
And her whole body tensed.
There was no one left.
Just her.
And the truth she couldn't suffocate.
She stayed still in bed for a few seconds, eyes open to the ceiling, feeling her heart hammering against her ribcage.
Jeon Sion.
She inhaled sharply, searching for a reason not to think about him — but nothing, absolutely nothing, could pull her out of that invading obsession.
She finally stood up, bare feet on the cold floor, crossing the apartment still drowned in half-darkness.
The smell of yesterday's coffee, the tidy table, the slippers near the couch… everything felt too normal.
Too calm.
As if the world refused to reflect the chaos in her chest.
She entered the bathroom.
Turned the faucet.
The shower spat hot steam that filled the room.
She undressed slowly, as if each centimeter of revealed skin awakened a different memory of the day before — her trembling thighs, her broken breath, her arched body, that uncontrolled climax she should never have given him, that weakness still haunting her, burning her, humiliating her and pulling her in at the same time.
She let the water run down her face for a long time, hoping the heat would numb that sense of lack.
But instead, it intensified.
She closed her eyes, placed her hands against the tiled wall.
The memory of his voice.
The warmth of his breath against her mouth.
The way he had held her as if she already belonged to his body.
The heat of his hands.
The violence of his kiss.
That dominance leaving no room for doubt: he could break her whenever he wished.
A shiver ran down her spine.
The towel hanging behind her slipped under the steam.
Water droplets rolled down her still-sensitive thighs.
She finally turned off the water, breathless without knowing why.
Grabbed the towel.
Wrapped it around herself awkwardly, too short to cover her hips completely.
Her still-wet hair clung to her neck, droplets running down to the base of her breasts.
She was about to leave the bathroom when—
THREE KNOCKS.
Violent.
Heavy.
Insistent.
As if someone wanted to break the door down.
Her heart exploded in her chest.
She froze.
The towel clenched between trembling fingers.
Her eyes fixed on the entrance as if a monster were waiting behind it.
Who knocks at this hour?
Who knocks like that?
She took one step.
Then another.
Every drop falling from her skin echoed in the silence like a warning.
She approached the door.
Her throat dry.
Her legs weak.
The towel too loose.
She inhaled.
Opened.
And her world stopped.
Sion.
Standing there.
In the doorway.
Soaked with rain.
Hair plastered down.
Black coat dripping on the floor.
Golden eyes fixed on her — on her bare skin behind the towel, on her still-wet lips, on her trembling shoulders.
An overwhelming presence.
A predatory silence.
He tilted his head slightly, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
— Were you waiting for me?
His voice.
Low.
Deep.
Friendly and dangerous at the same time, like a knife wrapped in velvet.
She stepped back without realizing it.
— What are you… how did you get my address?
He didn't answer.
— I missed you.
The tone was calm, almost detached, as if he were talking about a daily triviality.
Nari let out a nervous laugh.
— You're completely insane… you missed me? We don't even know each other!
He stepped closer.
She backed up until she felt the couch behind her legs.
He placed one hand on the headrest, right beside her head, then the other on the armrest, caging her between his arms without touching her, creating an invisible, burning prison around her.
Up close, his scent — a mix of cold rain, warm leather, and a woody perfume — slipped between her ribs, slid down to her stomach.
She closed her eyes for a second, trying to regain control of her breath.
Mistake.
He leaned even closer.
— Look at me.
An order.
Cold.
Sharp.
She opened her eyes.
His golden irises — yes, golden, like molten amber — hit her full force.
A brutal heat rose up her throat to her cheeks.
He entered.
Simply.
As if the apartment already belonged to him.
As if she existed only because he had decided to look at her.
He closed the door behind him.
And all the air seemed to contract, grow heavier, warmer, harder to breathe.
Nari was trapped.
Naked under a towel too short.
Water droplets on her skin.
Eyes wide.
Breath cut.
And him.
He who walked slowly toward her.
As if savoring every second.
As if she were too easy, too offered a prey.
He approached her without a word, his heavy steps muffled by the carpet, the rain still dripping from the edge of his coat as if the storm had followed him all the way into her living room.
Nari backed up automatically, her towel slipping dangerously along her hips, her still-wet hair drawing shining lines across her collarbone.
She had never been this vulnerable.
Nor this watched.
Sion stared at her.
Not like a man looks at a woman.
Like a predator observing the reaction of an animal caught in a trap.
— Why are you here? she whispered. What do you want from me?
A slow smile stretched across his mouth, a cruel, amused smile, as if her question made no sense.
— I want to check something.
She frowned.
— Check… what?
He brushed the towel.
Slowly.
As if savoring every second of her hesitation.
— If I really have no effect on you.
He placed his hand on her hip, the skin still warm from the shower.
She jolted.
He tightened his grip.
— Prove it to me.
— Sion, stop… stop, you have no right to…
He leaned his mouth close to her ear, so close his warm breath made her whole spine tremble.
— I have no right?
He let out a soft laugh.
— You want me to stop? Lie again. I swear I love when you lie.
She felt her stomach tighten, heat rising in spite of herself.
She pushed his hand away — too late.
The towel slipped.
Fell.
Onto the floor.
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating, obscene.
Sion slowly lowered his eyes.
And saw her.
Completely naked.
Shower droplets still clinging to her skin, running down her stomach, sliding between her thighs.
He lifted his head.
Their eyes collided.
A brutal shock.
— Do you realize what you just offered me? he murmured in a low, rough voice, almost trembling with contained excitement.