I should've seen it coming.
The moment Mio stepped out of the bathroom wearing that silk nightgown — deep red, thin straps, and a slit that went all the way up her thigh — I knew I was in trouble. Big trouble. The kind of trouble you don't run from… but you also know you won't survive without scars.
Her hair was still damp, curling at the ends, skin glowing in a way that made my throat go dry.
And then… nothing. She just walked past me like I was a piece of furniture.
"Nice gown," I said, leaning on the bedpost, trying to sound casual. In reality, I was already imagining the moment she'd crawl onto the bed and—
"I know," she said flatly, and kept brushing her hair in front of the mirror.
I frowned.
No smile. No blush. No sudden glance that screamed please kiss me. Just calm, calculated… almost smug.
It felt wrong. Too wrong.
