Rabin's POV
It's already noon.
I glance at my phone again.
No message.
No call.
Nothing from her.
Y/N.
Why isn't she here yet?
She's never late. Not like this. Not without a reason.
I shift in my seat on set, feeling that familiar itch of unease crawl under my skin.
My eyes flick to the empty space near the monitor—her spot.
Always quiet. Always there.
Even when she's annoyed at me, she's there.
But today…
Is it because I acted like a fool last night?
I pull out my phone again. Hover over her name.
But I don't press call.
Rabin's POV
My shoot is at night… but it's already time. And she's still not here.
What the hell?
Did she—
No. No way.
Did she quit the job?!
No. No, no, no. She wouldn't just leave without saying anything… right?
I stare at my phone, checking for the tenth time. No calls. No messages. Nothing from her.
My chest tightens, and I run a hand through my hair, trying to stay calm—but every second she's not here just makes it worse.
And then—
DING.
A message pops up.
Y/N:
"I'll be a little late. The van will pick you up."
I exhale slowly.
She's coming.
I stare at the message, reading it again like it might say something more the second time.
She didn't say why.
Didn't explain anything.
Y/N's POV
Actually…
I spent the whole day looking for a new apartment.
Because this week?
It's fully packed with Rabin's schedule—shoot after shoot, event after event.
So I figured, if I don't find a place today… I probably never will.
But of course—my luck?
Disaster.
Every decent place was either too expensive, too far, or too sketchy to even step into. I was tired, sweaty, frustrated—and still, nothing felt right.
And now?
It's already time for the shoot.
I stared at the clock, sighing, forcing myself to get ready even though I felt like collapsing on the floor.
I need to leave now or else—
Tch.
Or else that Rabinie's Raya will take full advantage of my absence.
Yes. His Raya.
Because she's been sticking to him like glitter on glue lately.
I zip up my jacket, grab my bag, and head for the door.
When I stepped onto the set, the lights were already up.
Rabin was sitting in his chair, makeup done, hair perfectly styled like he hadn't just made my life spiral last night.
He looked up the moment I walked in.
His eyes locked onto mine—searching, unreadable.
Rabin: "You came?"
I gave a small nod.
Short. Bare. Not too much. Just… enough.
He stood up slowly, stepping a little closer.
Rabin: "What happened? Why were you late?"
I avoided his gaze for a second, pretending to check my clipboard even though it was empty.
Y/N: "Nothing. I just had something to deal with."
Something = my whole life falling apart, but okay.
Before he could say anything else, the director clapped loudly.
Director: "Come on! Actor, stand by!"
Rabin held my gaze for a beat longer before turning toward the set.
I stood still.
Something in me wanted to say more.
But this wasn't the time.
And maybe… I didn't want him to see how tired I really was.
Not yet.
He turned away, walking toward the lights, toward the camera—like he always does.
I watched him for a moment, chewing on the inside of my cheek.
He looked calm, focused… like the Rabin everyone else sees.
I moved to the side, standing near the monitor,
Just then—
Director:
"Alright! Scene 27. Let's take a clean one. Lights, sound, camera—"
He raised his voice—
"Action!"
The set transformed.
A dimly lit bar scene.
Soft jazz music playing in the background.
Rabin's character—cold, brooding, hiding pain under that perfect face.
Opposite him?
Raya.
Wearing that red dress like she walked straight out of a cliché romance drama.
She leaned forward across the fake table, voice dripping with flirtation.
Raya (in character): "Why do you keep pushing me away when you know you want me?"
I crossed my arms tightly, shifting uncomfortably.
Rabin responded—his voice low, almost too real.
Rabin (in character):
"Because wanting someone doesn't mean they're good for you."
The director called cut, but the words echoed in my chest like they weren't part of the script.
I stepped away from the monitor and made my way to the side hall near the storage room.
Rabin's POV
She was just here.
Literally right here.
Standing by the monitor, arms crossed, pretending like she wasn't watching me and Raya.
And now?
Error 404: Y/N not found.
I glanced around the set, subtle enough not to draw attention, but quick enough
Where did she go?
My jaw clenched as I scanned the crew, the corners, the shadows behind the lights.
Still no sign of her.
I was about to step off set when the director's voice snapped back in:
Director:
"Scene 28, take 1! Let's roll!"
I took my mark automatically, but my thoughts were stuck on her.
Where the hell did she go?
The moment the scene wrapped, I barely waited for the director to say cut before my eyes were already scanning the set.
But she still wasn't there.
No Y/N.
Again.
Where the hell did she go?
I walked off, ignoring the buzz of crew conversations around me, and headed toward the lounge.
I pushed open the door quietly—and there she was.
Curled up on the couch.
Asleep.
Well… napping, technically. But she looked like she hadn't rested in days.
Her bag was still half-zipped beside her, and her hand rested under her cheek, like she just collapsed the moment she sat down.
She looked…
Tired.
Not just physically.
I stood there for a moment, staring.
Letting the chaos around me slow down.
Just then, the makeup artist walked in behind me.
"Rabin, I just wanted to—"
I turned, finger to my lips.
"Shhh."
She blinked at me in surprise.
I glanced back at Y/N, then whispered—
"Let's go somewhere else. Not this room."
She nodded, and I quietly pulled the door shut behind me.
We headed to another room down the hall. I sat down in front of the mirror, letting her start removing my makeup in silence.
After I finished everything—makeup removed, costume changed, script handed off—I found myself walking back down the hallway.
Straight to the room where she was.
Like I was on autopilot.
I opened the door quietly, and there she was.
Still asleep.
Same spot. Same position.
Still curled up on the couch like the weight of her whole world had finally given her permission to rest.
And in her hand—
My sipper.
Clutched gently, like she held it before drifting off and never let go.
I walked over and sat down beside her, careful not to make a sound.
She didn't stir.
I watched her for a moment, eyes tracing the tiny strands of hair stuck to her cheek, the faint crease between her brows, the way her lips parted just slightly as she breathed.
He reached out slowly, fingers brushing against the sipper she was still holding.
Carefully. Gently. Trying not to wake her.
But before he could pull it away—
Her eyes fluttered open.
Sleepy, dazed, and somehow even softer than before.
"Oh…"
Her voice came out like a whisper.
"You're back… Is the shoot done?"
He froze for a second, hand still half-hovering between them.
Then he straightened, playing it cool—though his heart had definitely tripped somewhere along the way.
Rabin:
"Yeah. It's done for a while."
He took the sipper from her hand and gave the smallest smile.
"I came to take my sipper."
Lie.
But she didn't question it.
She just blinked at him, slow and tired, then sat up a little, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.
Rabin:
"Are you going to sleep here for the whole night?"
Y/N blinked, still half-tucked into the couch.
Y/N:
"What time is it now?"
Rabin:
"It's 1 A.M. already."
Her eyes widened a little, surprised by how fast time slipped.
Without saying much, they both gathered their things, quietly moving through the empty hallway of the studio.
The production van was already waiting, engine humming low.
They rode in silence.
The exhaustion between them wasn't just physical—it was everything they weren't saying.
When the van finally stopped in the parking lot outside Rabin's apartment building, she shifted in her seat.
Y/N:
"I'm not coming up today."
Her voice was soft but firm, hand already on the door handle.
He watched her for a second. The way her fingers lingered before she opened the door. The way she didn't look at him directly.
She stepped out first.
He followed.
Just as she was about to walk away toward the street—
Rabin:
"Hey… wait!"
She turned around slowly.
Rabin:
"Let me send you home."
Author's POV
Rabin pressed the button on his keys.
Click.
The sleek black Porsche chirped to life—headlights blinking softly in the dim parking lot.
He looked at her once, calm and certain.
"Come."
Just one word.
Not a question.
Not a plea.
An invitation she could still walk away from.
But she didn't.
Y/N didn't say anything.
No snark. No sarcasm. Not even a sigh.
She just quietly walked to the passenger side and slipped in, like she'd done it a thousand times before.
The door closed gently behind her.
He took the driver's seat without looking at her, adjusting the mirror, starting the engine.
The car purred beneath them.
Still, neither spoke.
The kind of silence that wasn't uncomfortable—
The city lights began to pass by as they pulled out of the lot, and for the first time in a while—
neither of them tried to outrun the moment.
The road was quiet, streetlights flickering by in blurred streaks.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
But Rabin's grip on the steering wheel said enough—tight knuckles, tapping thumb, a thousand thoughts circling his mind.
Then, finally—
Rabin:
"So… where were you?"
Y/N turned slightly, caught off guard.
Y/N:
"Huh?"
Rabin (eyes still on the road):
"Why didn't you come earlier today? Where were you missing all day?"
His voice wasn't sharp. Just steady. Curious.
But under the calm… there was something else.
Worry. Maybe even fear.
Y/N looked out the window for a moment, then leaned back into her seat.
Y/N:
"I was finding an apartment."
Rabin:
"Huh?"
He blinked, glancing at her now—really looking.
Rabin:
"Why? What happened to your current place?"
Y/N hesitated.
She hadn't planned to tell him. Not tonight.
But maybe the night had already heard too much from both of them.
She exhaled.
Y/N:
"The lease ends this week. My grandma forgot to tell me… she's staying in the village. So…"
She trailed off.
Y/N (softly):
"I don't have a place after this week."
Rabin's hands tightened on the wheel.
His jaw clenched slightly, but he said nothing right away.
Just kept driving.
But inside?
He was already deciding.
Rabin stayed silent.
His jaw tensed slightly, his eyes flicking from the road to her and back again.
She looked… tired. Fragile in a way she rarely showed.
The kind of tired that sleep couldn't fix.
"No apartment."
The words echoed in his head.
He wanted to say it.
"Stay with me."
The sentence sat at the edge of his tongue, pressing hard against his lips. It would've been so easy to offer—his place had extra rooms, she practically knew her way around already.
But…
Was it appropriate?
Would she think he was taking advantage?
Would she feel uncomfortable?
Would it make things worse between them?
So instead of saying it…
He said nothing.
Just kept driving.
The silence between them stretched again—but this time, it wasn't awkward.
It was carefully held.
Like he was buying time.
Like he'd wait till the last second, till the last possible night, just in case.
Because if she couldn't find a place…
Then yes.
Then he'd say it.
And this time, he wouldn't stop himself.