Ren Lin's Point of View
I've known Rain since we were twelve.
I've seen him break bones without blinking, negotiate million-dollar deals before he hit puberty, and silence a room with a single look.
But nothing—nothing—could've prepared me for what I witnessed today on that football field.
Rain Chen.
King of Shadows.
Ghost Emperor.
Europe's most feared silent operator.
Was blushing.
Let's rewind.
There he was, seconds away from throttling a poor Italian boy who clearly didn't read the "Do Not Touch the Mafia Prince" memo. Rain's eyes had gone black—not in a poetic way. I mean literally black. His shoulders were tense, fists clenched, jaw carved from stone. The air dropped ten degrees.
And then she walked in.
Sky.
Or as I now call her: the Marshmallow Exorcist.
She didn't even hesitate. Just bounced into the scene with a blue scrunchie barely holding back half her weight in hair, cheeks flushed from running, voice chirping like she was about to announce a bake sale instead of defuse a near-bloodbath.
And then it happened.
She touched him.
Touched. Rain Chen. Mid-rage. With her glitter-covered fingers.
And he melted.
I saw it. The switch flipped. He looked at her like she was a damn miracle. One second, he was fire and vengeance; the next, he was... human.
Honestly, I nearly cried. From laughter.
I waited until we were back in the locker room. Rain was pretending to be busy re-tying his laces for fifteen minutes like that made him immune to my judgment.
"So," I said, leaning against the bench with the smuggest grin known to mankind, "when's the wedding?"
He didn't look up. "Shut up."
I grinned harder. "You gonna invite the rest of us, or just handwrite love letters in marshmallow fluff?"
"Ren."
"She called you Rainy. In public."
"Ren."
"You didn't even growl at her."
He looked at me finally, and I swear I saw murder in his eyes—but behind it?
Softness.
Genuine, confused, infuriated softness.
"You don't get it," he muttered, running a hand through his still-wet hair. "She's..."
"What?" I asked, leaning in like a gossiping auntie. "Special? Different? The sun to your moon? The strawberry to your brooding espresso?"
He threw a towel at my face. I caught it, laughing like the menace I am.
But inside?
Yeah, I was smiling for real.
Because if anyone deserved to mess up Rain's perfect little world, it was Sky.
And if he wasn't careful, she was going to break down every wall he built—and maybe, just maybe, save him in the process.
God help him.