Chak walked to the wardrobe, grabbed fresh clothes, and headed for the bathroom.
I followed him, my heart beating faster with every step. "I want to askl you something," I whispered.
He didn't even look at me. He went straight to the shower and turned on the water. As he pulled off his shirt, I expected bare skin—but instead, there it was: a black sleeveless top, clinging to him.
I froze. My eyes refused to move, my lips parted, but no words came out.
Chak finally looked at me and smirked.
"I didn't know you wanted to shower with me."
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I should have said something, anything, but my voice was gone. Before I could react, he took my hand and pulled me under the shower with him. The water hit my skin, warm and heavy, and my head leaned back against the black tiles. His gaze didn't waver, while mine kept darting away, desperate to escape the intensity. His shirt clung to him now, outlining the firm shape of his body.
"I need to tell you something," I finally managed, forcing myself to meet his eyes.
"Not now," he whispered. His hand closed gently around mine, pressing it to his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat pulsed under my palm.
Then he leaned to me and starting kissing my neck and my cheeks.
Chak please stop I said.
"Shower by yourself," I muttered, stepping away from him. My chest ached with unspoken words.
I grabbed a towel from the stand and began drying myself.
"That's my towel," he said.
"Not anymore," I replied coldly, though the bitterness in my voice was aimed more at myself than him. Why did I always let him get so close, only to be the one who walked away?
I tried to ignore him, but I felt his eyes on me, burning into my skin. My hands trembled slightly as I dried my hair, pretending not to notice. Suddenly, a soft tug—my towel slipped away. Chak was drying himself with it, as if it had always belonged to him.
"Give it back," I said sharply.
"No. It's mine now," he answered without hesitation.
Frustration surged through me, hot and sharp. I grabbed another towel, but before I could even lift it, he stole it from me again.
"Give it back!" I snapped.
"I won't," he said with that infuriating calmness, looping his towel loosely around my neck. His lips tilted into a smirk. "This one is big enough for both of us."
My glare could have burned a hole through him, but he only tossed my towel to the floor as if nothing mattered but his own game.
"Dry my hair," he demanded.
"Do it yourself," I shot back, my eyes locked on his, refusing to back down. Inside, though, my chest tightened. Why did his closeness always leave me torn between anger and longing?
"You wanted this," he teased, stepping even closer. With a sudden shake of his head, droplets scattered everywhere—across the walls, the floor… and me.
"Chak, stop," I hissed, my patience fraying.
At last, he stilled. Then his eyes softened, lingering on me.
"Finally, you smiled," he murmured.
"I didn't," I muttered defensively, even though I knew the corner of my lips had betrayed me.
He closed the space between us, took the towel, and began drying my hair himself. His gaze was steady, while mine kept slipping away, unable to withstand his intensity. Then—too quickly for me to brace myself—his lips brushed against my forehead.
"My boyfriend," he whispered.
The words landed like a spark in my chest. My voice trembled. "Chak, why are you sometimes so cold to me?"
He paused, his expression unreadable. "I don't know."
"You don't know?" I repeated, my throat tight. "Then tell me when you do."
I turned and left before he could answer, my heart pounding like a storm. In the wardrobe I grabbed clean clothes, clutching them tightly as if they could shield me. I returned to him and said, "Go out. I need to change."
He smirked, unbothered. "Ah, so now you're sulking. But you're still so cute, even when you sulk."
He touched my nose with a finger and smile to me.
Despite his teasing, he left. I closed the door behind him and leaned against the sink, drawing in a shaky breath. Now he'll see I can be cold too.
When I stepped out, the air in the house felt heavier. Chak was gone from the hallway, his voice echoing faintly from the dining room. I found him there, seated casually with Anamarija, as if nothing had just happened.
"Good morning," I greeted stiffly.
She smiled warmly. "Feeling better?"
I only nodded. My chest tightened when Chak turned to me.
"Was something wrong?" he asked.
Before I could answer, Anamarija stood, her expression knowing. I'm not the right person to tell you, that's between the two of you. I won't interfere." She left us, her footsteps fading into silence.
Now we were alone.
"What happened yesterday?" Chak asked again, his tone firmer.
I brushed past him, refusing to answer. He rose immediately.
"Niran, answer me."
"After breakfast," I said curtly, sitting at the table.
He sat opposite me, his eyes fixed on me. I kept mine on the food, chewing slowly, deliberately. If I looked at him now, everything would spill out. Let him wait.
When I finished eating, I finally lifted my gaze. "Nothing happened yesterday."
"Niran, don't lie. Something did. Tell me now."
His persistence cut deep. I stood abruptly and walked into the kitchen, hiding in the simple motion of washing dishes. The water running over my hands masked the shaking inside me. But then I felt it—his hands gripping my hips. In the next instant, he lifted me onto the counter. My breath caught, my heart hammering so loudly I thought it might burst.
Chak leaned in, bracing his palms on either side of me. His eyes searched mine, dark and unyielding. God, how beautiful his eyes are, I thought, even as I tried to turn away.
"Tell me what's wrong, or it won't end well for you," he said, voice low.
I looked away, biting my lip, but he softened, his voice shifting.
"You're so cute when you try to hide what's bothering you."
Then, without warning, he turned, opened a drawer, and pulled out a chocolate bar. My lips twitched, betraying the smile I tried to hold back.
"If you don't tell me what happened yesterday, this will melt," he teased.
"Don't use my own tricks against me," I said coldly, though my heart warmed at his silliness.
"What if I use them to melt you, to bring back my old Niran?"
"It won't work. I'm not telling you," I insisted, though the resolve in my voice trembled.
"Fine." He turned toward the door, walking away quickly.
Panic shot through me like lightning. I jumped down and chased after him. "Okay, fine! I'll tell you. Just don't leave, please."
A small smile curved on his lips as he stopped.
"Tell me."
I exhaled shakily. "Last night when you left, I was angry. Angry because you didn't tell me where you were going. I wanted to follow you, but I stopped myself. I imagined you with someone else… holding them the way you hold me. Then Anamarija came. I told her I love you, but your secrets hurt me—that you don't trust me. She said one day you'll tell me, that you're not used to me standing by your side, that I need to give you time to open up. And… that's all."
Chak's expression softened as he stepped closer. His voice was quiet. "What was it you wanted to tell me before?"
I hesitated, my heart squeezing painfully. But I had to say it.
"I just… I wanted to ask if we could lie down for a bit. I wanted to rest my head on your chest, like I always do. Because I missed it last night."
My voice trembled as I went on. "You see… I was afraid to call you. I thought you'd be angry. I didn't even know if you'd pick up the phone. But when I heard your voice, I finally fell asleep. If you're ever away, I want to hear your voice before I close my eyes. It calms me… it makes me feel safe, like you're right here with me."
His arms closed around me, firm and warm.
"I'm sorry. If I'd known, I wouldn't have gone. I hurt you."
When he loosened his hold, his eyes were gentler, stripped of their earlier fire. He lifted the chocolate bar again, a half-smile on his lips.
"Would you eat this if I gave it to you?" he asked softly.
I nodded.
Relief washed over him. He unwrapped the chocolate slowly, broke off a piece, and held it up between his fingers.
"Then open your mouth," he teased, voice low, almost playful.
I hesitated, but when our eyes met, resistance crumbled. I let him place the piece on my tongue, his fingertips brushing my lips ever so slightly. My heart pounded in the silence, louder than the sound of my own breathing.
The sweetness melted in my mouth, but it was nothing compared to the warmth in his gaze.
"Chaky… do you love me?" I asked, almost shyly, my voice barely above a whisper.