He was there, his back slightly hunched, his hands clasped between his knees, his eyes fixed on her from the moment she opened the door.
He didn't speak.
He didn't move.
He barely breathed.
Like a predator waiting for its prey to step into the cage.
Nari blinked, surprised—then annoyed.
— What the hell are you doing here? You scared me, for fuck's sake!
Sion lifted his head.
His golden eyes shone in the shadows.
No anger.
No aggression.
No.
Something worse.
A worry too big.
An obsession too heavy.
A possession spilling over.
He stood up slowly, as if every movement were an effort not to explode.
— Where were you? he asked in a low, deep, muffled voice.
She frowned.
— At work. I had a long shift, that's all—
— You said three hours. It's six.
His voice rose half a pitch.
Just enough to betray the panic beneath the anger.
Nari sighed, ran a hand through her hair, exasperated.
— They wanted to celebrate my first day. I wasn't going to just walk out in the middle of it, calm down, seriously—
He closed the distance so fast she didn't have time to step back.
His hands slapped against the wall on either side of her head.
His chest pressed against her.
His warm breath brushed her cheek.
His scent—wood, whiskey, rain—wrapped around her completely.
— Who's "they"? he breathed, his jaw clenched.
She could feel the raw jealousy in his voice.
A jealousy that came from so far inside him it made her tremble.
— My coworkers, for fuck's sake! What is your problem?
He lowered his head, resting his forehead against hers.
His hands were shaking.
— You weren't answering… I thought something had happened to you.
A silence.
Heavy.
Thick.
Vibrating.
Nari felt a knot in her chest.
The way he talked.
The way he breathed.
The way he looked at her.
It was panic.
Pure.
Raw.
Animal.
He pulled back a little, as if ashamed of having let it slip.
— I'm sorry.
His voice sounded almost childlike again, fragile.
— I just wanted… to see you. To know you were okay.
So she gently placed her hand on his cheek, her voice dropping a tone.
— I'm here now. It's okay, Sion. I'm here.
Nari didn't know how to react to that vulnerability, but after all, he had worried, his heart beating for her.
She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body against his, feeling his warmth, his scent.
— I'm sorry I worried you, I'll let you know next time.
— Next time? So you're planning on there being a next time? Sion responded, his voice starting to get upset again, his hands tightening on her waist.
— Well yeah, I get along with them. For once I actually made a friend.
He closed his eyes for a second, a shaky breath slipping past his lips, before pulling her against him so hard she felt her ribs strain.
— You're only mine, Nari, you know that?
She didn't have time to answer.
His lips crashed against hers with desperate violence, his hands sliding under her clothes, lifting her, carrying her toward the bedroom without even breaking the kiss.
They fell onto the bed, their bodies caught fire, their breaths mingled, their hands searching for each other with urgency, until there was nothing left but sweat, muffled moans, and raw desire.
⸻
**But when she fell asleep…
Sion stayed awake.**
He watched her for a long time.
Like a man who doesn't believe anyone will actually let him keep something.
Like a man afraid someone will steal it from him.
Then he got up.
Silent.
Implacable.
He grabbed his phone.
Dialed a number.
Daewon answered immediately, despite the hour.
Sion's voice was calm.
Too calm.
— Find me everything you can about Nari's workplace. The employees. The coworkers. The regular customers. The boss. Their lives, their accounts, their records. Everything.
He took a few steps into the living room, his jaw tight.
— I want to know who touches her. Who talks to her. Who thinks they can get close to her.
I want names, faces, schedules. Nothing slips past me.
A short silence.
Daewon replied at once:
— I'll take care of it. You'll have a full file by the end of the day.
— Good.
He hung up.
Walked back toward the bedroom.
Sion stood still.
He watched her for a long time—
too long—
as if her very breath had become the only thing capable of keeping him whole.
His gaze slid along the curve of her shoulder, the line of her back, the way her fingers had loosened around the sheet.
A dangerous softness crossed his eyes—
that softness he showed to no one,
ever,
except her.
Slowly, as if pulled by a force he couldn't control, he moved closer, letting his hand glide along her waist, brushing her warm skin, soft and still marked by their earlier embraces.
He pulled her against him, her body fitting perfectly against his, as if she had been created for that exact place.
He kissed her bare shoulder with a slowness that bordered on religious devotion, his lips leaving a warm, possessive, silent trace.
Then, in a voice so low she wouldn't have been sure she heard it even awake, he murmured against her skin:
— You don't understand yet…
But I'm never letting you go again.
His fingers tightened around her waist a little more—
a little too much—
as if that single gesture could seal both a promise
and a threat.
He stayed like that for a few seconds,
his forehead pressed between her shoulder blades,
his breathing short, almost trembling.
Then he inhaled deeply,
pulled himself back together the way one puts a mask back on,
and straightened slightly.
His hand slid up her arm with a gentleness that contrasted violently with the intensity of his previous whisper.
He placed another kiss on her neck.
— Nari… wake up, he murmured softly, as if nothing—absolutely nothing—had just happened.
— Do you want to come with me to meet my mother today?