Days had passed.
Ash sat at his desk, pretending to work. Fingers hovered above his keyboard, but nothing made it to the screen. His mind wandered—again.
No matter how he tried to focus, everything reminded him of her.
A scent. A sound. A quiet moment.
Celeste.
—Flashback—
[The couch]
"Ah—A-Ash…" she moaned, gripping the cushions tighter.
He started moving, facing her back, shallow at first, hesitant—still shy, still blushing, still trying to keep control.
But Celeste wasn't patient.
"Harder," she breathed. "Please—ah—go deeper…"
Ash let out a quiet groan and adjusted his grip, pulling her hips back toward him as he thrust again—this time harder, deeper.
Celeste cried out, her voice hitching.
"A-Aahh—Ash—yes—!"
The pace quickened.
Their rhythm fell into sync, hips meeting again and again. The sound of it—wet, breathy, urgent—filled the room.
"C-Celeste," he gasped. "I-I'm trying—ah—not to go too fast—"
"Don't hold back—Nnngh—just move—"
He obeyed, thrusting deeper now, burying himself inside her over and over, faster, harder. His shy restraint was slowly unraveling under her cries.
"Aah—A-Ash—deeper—ah—!"
Her voice cracked into moans that spilled freely with each stroke, louder now, messier, full of need.
He grabbed her waist more firmly, burying his face into the back of her shoulder, his thrusts growing more desperate. His own voice escaped him in stuttered groans between each deep movement.
"Ha—Cel… ngh—"
Their bodies slapped together, rhythm relentless, as the couch creaked beneath them.
"D-Don't stop—Aah—just like that—!"
She was unraveling in his arms. And Ash—despite how flustered and red his face had become—kept going, kept giving everything he had.
"Cel—ah—I… I'm close—"
"Together—please—!"
With one final thrust, deep and sharp, their voices tangled—moans crashing over each other in one breathless release.
Celeste collapsed forward onto the couch cushion, her body trembling, while Ash leaned over her from behind, panting against her skin.
_______
[The kitchen]
The morning light spilled through the window, soft and golden, casting long shadows across the tiled kitchen.
Ash sat on the edge of the kitchen sink, trying to catch his breath.
He wasn't supposed to be here like this—shirt halfway buttoned, sleeves rolled up, still in his black boxer briefs.
He'd only come down to get some coffee before getting fully dressed for work.
But that plan shattered the moment Celeste walked in.
She didn't even hesitate. Wearing nothing but her bra and underwear, she padded barefoot across the cold tiles, a calm, dangerous glint in her eyes.
Her gaze locked on him—hungry, certain.
"C-Celeste—?" Ash barely got the word out.
She didn't answer. Her body slid between his knees, hands gripping the edge of the counter on either side of him.
Then her lips found his—and nothing else mattered. Her kiss was hot, deep, and immediate.
Her fingers slipped up into his hair, tugging gently, just enough to make him gasp.
Ash's hands gripped the edge of the sink behind him. His knuckles turned white. Her lips moved urgently, tongue brushing his, her breath already coming in small, desperate exhales.
She moaned into his mouth—soft, broken—and Ash felt his whole body tremble.
He tried to pull back.
"W-We're in the kitchen—!"
"No one's around," she whispered against his lips. "Unless you think the microwave's judging us."
He groaned at her teasing.
"Cel…"
Her hands moved down his chest, fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt.
He looked down—she had already undone two more. Her touch grazed his stomach, tracing the line of his waistband.
Ash panicked, even as his body responded without hesitation.
"N-No, Cel—we don't have any condoms on hand," he said quickly, breathing unevenly, his voice full of nerves. "It's not safe like this—"
Without missing a beat, she leaned back just enough—and reached with two fingers down between her bra and skin.
Ash blinked.
From the curve beneath her breast, she slipped out a foil square, holding it up casually, her expression smug and innocent all at once.
His face turned crimson. "Y-You—what?"
"Always come prepared," she said, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Especially with you."
Ash covered his face with both hands.
"That was in your bra the whole time?!"
She grinned. "Would you have rather it been in my sock?"
Before he could react, she kissed him again—longer, deeper—while her hands moved with intent.
One slipped down, her fingers curling around the waistband of his underwear.
The kiss grew heated, their breaths mingling, hearts pounding in sync.
She broke the kiss just enough to whisper,
"Lift your hips."
He did.
She slid his underwear down slowly, her fingers brushing along his thighs and hips.
Ash shuddered at her touch, his hands gripping her waist now, unsure whether to pull her in or stop her—but doing neither.
Then she tore open the foil, took the condom in her hand, and leaned down slightly, locking eyes with him as she gently rolled it on him herself—careful, slow, teasing.
His breath hitched.
"Cel—Celeste," he breathed, voice trembling.
"Shhh…" she whispered.
When she was done, she kissed his neck, her lips lingering near his ear.
"Let me take care of you."
Then, without waiting, she reached between them, guiding him, and slowly lowered herself onto his lap.
Ash let out a strangled moan, his hands shooting up to hold her waist as her body enveloped him.
"C-Cel—!"
Celeste gasped softly, her fingers gripping his shoulders as she adjusted to the sensation—full, warm, overwhelming.
She rocked her hips gently, finding her rhythm. The sounds between them were soft and breathy at first—her whispered sighs, his stuttered gasps.
But as she moved faster, the friction grew, and so did the sounds.
Ash's head leaned back against the cupboards, mouth open, panting.
"God—you feel…"
Celeste moaned into his neck, pressing her chest to his, her bra rubbing lightly against his shirt.
Her movements grew deeper, rougher, as pleasure began to take over.
"Ah—Ash—" she whimpered, eyes fluttering shut.
"Cel… I—" He held her tighter, his own hips rising instinctively to meet hers.
Their bodies moved as one, perfectly synced, drowning in each other.
Skin slapping softly, heavy breaths, and the occasional creak of the counter filled the room.
She bit her lip, trying not to cry out too loudly—but when he moaned her name, she shivered and buried her face in his neck.
It was fast, needy, burning.
Celeste's pace stuttered.
"Ash—I'm close—!"
Ash could barely form words.
"M-Me too—"
________
[The bathroom]
The water ran steadily, warm steam curling around the glass as Ash stood beneath the showerhead, head tilted forward, eyes closed.
It was supposed to be a moment to clear his head.
But the second the door creaked open behind him, he sensed it.
Too late.
He turned his head slightly, brows furrowed.
"Didn't I lock—?"
Arms slid gently around his waist from behind.
Bare. Soft. Warm.
Ash froze instantly. He didn't need to turn to know who it was. His breath caught.
"C-Cel—?"
She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, humming lazily.
"You forgot to lock the door," she said, like it was the most casual thing in the world.
He swallowed hard, heart racing as he felt every inch of her body pressed against his slick back.
"I-I was just—showering," he stammered, trying to keep still.
"A-and I didn't know you were—uh, you're—"
"Naked?" she offered helpfully, then giggled softly. "So are you."
Ash nearly slipped.
She tightened her arms just a bit, fingertips trailing lightly over his stomach, tracing slow, teasing circles. Her lips brushed the back of his shoulder.
"Relax, Ash. It's not like I haven't seen everything already…"
His face was on fire. "T-That's not the point! I was trying to—shower properly—like a normal person!"
"Mmh." She didn't let go. Instead, her hands slid down his stomach. He shivered. "Then, let's shower together."
"Cel…" he whispered warningly.
"I just missed you," she murmured, turning him around gently until his back met the glass wall. "You've been acting all distant lately. Busy. Quiet." Her fingers brushed his face now. "I don't like it."
His hands hovered awkwardly by his sides, unsure where to place them, unsure if he could even think straight with her so close.
Celeste stood right in front of him now, her wet hair clinging to her skin, droplets trailing down her curves.
Ash tried not to look, but she was there—beautiful, bold, and utterly unbothered.
"I… I wasn't trying to avoid you," he mumbled.
Her gaze softened.
"Then prove it."
She kissed him—slow at first, then deeper, her breath hot against his mouth. Water spilled over their bodies, but neither of them noticed anymore.
Ash's hands finally found her hips, trembling slightly. Celeste pulled him closer, pressing her back to the cold tile wall, guiding him into place with a soft exhale.
But just as instinct kicked in, he paused, breath ragged.
"W-Wait—Cel," he mumbled against her lips. "We can't… I—I don't have a condom with me."
Celeste leaned back just a little, eyes half-lidded and amused.
"So?"
He swallowed hard, face flushed.
"N-No, Cel… we don't have condoms handed. Not here, not now."
She tilted her head, clearly unfazed.
"Mmh. You don't," she said simply.
Then, with a cheeky glint in her eyes, she reached behind her—toward the edge of the towel shelf—and pulled something small and familiar from beneath a folded washcloth.
Ash blinked in disbelief.
"You… you had one there?!"
"Prepared girl perks," she said sweetly, flicking the foil packet between her fingers. "You get easily flustered, so I plan ahead."
"C-Celeste…" he groaned, covering his face briefly. "You're gonna be the death of me."
She giggled softly.
"You love it."
Before he could say another word, she opened the packet and slowly slid the condom onto him, her touch confident and teasing. His breath caught, hands gripping the wall behind her.
"Still gonna stop me?" she asked, pressing her body close again.
Ash shook his head faintly, voice low and shaken.
"I'm doomed."
"Then stop thinking," she whispered, tugging him toward her with a kiss. "And start feeling."
Her fingers tangled in his wet hair as their bodies aligned.
"Ngh—Ash…" she breathed out, her head tipping back as he moved against her.
He grunted quietly, biting back a moan. His cheeks were still flushed red, but his hands held her tighter now, more sure of themselves—more desperate.
Celeste's lips parted with a shaky gasp.
"F-Faster…"
He obeyed, moving with more urgency, every shift of their bodies creating soft slaps of skin and water.
"Haa—Ash—yes…" she whispered, her voice dissolving into soft, breathy moans that bounced off the tiled walls.
His forehead pressed against hers, jaw clenched.
"C-Cel—" he muttered under his breath, each thrust becoming more instinctive.
The sound of the running water, their shared breaths, and the intimate rhythm between them filled the space like a secret song.
"Ngh… don't stop…" she murmured, arms clinging to his shoulders.
"I'm—ah—trying not to," he whispered shakily.
Their bodies trembled as they reached the edge together, muffled cries and stuttered moans lost in the sound of the cascading water.
_______
[The bed-Midnight]
"Nngh—Celeste…" he groaned, voice caught between restraint and surrender.
Her breath hitched beneath him as he began to move, grinding slowly, every shift drawing a soft gasp from her lips.
"Ah—Ash… yes…" she moaned, clutching his shoulders. "Don't stop…"
He picked up the pace, hips moving faster, deeper, the sound of their bodies meeting filling the room in soft rhythm.
His face flushed red, teeth clenched, eyes fluttering shut as he lost himself in the sensation of her—warm, tight, surrounding him completely.
"C-Cel—ah…"
Celeste's head tilted back, her fingers tangling in the sheets as she cried out softly.
"More—Ash, please—faster—"
Her moans only made him more desperate.
He thrust harder, arms tightening around her as he kissed her neck, her collarbone, anywhere he could reach, like he couldn't get close enough.
Their movements turned frantic, tangled in breath and sweat and need. The bed creaked beneath them.
The air was thick with heat, with soft, stuttering moans that built higher with every passing second.
"Celeste—ngh—!" he gasped, burying his face in her shoulder as his rhythm broke.
"Don't hold back—let go—" she whispered, her voice trembling.
And he did.
Their cries rose together, raw and breathless, before finally collapsing into silence broken only by their racing heartbeats.
Ash stayed on top of her, catching his breath, arms still wrapped around her as if afraid she'd slip away.
Celeste brushed a hand through his messy hair, smiling faintly.
"You always look so polite even when you're making me lose my mind."
Ash groaned softly and buried his face into her neck.
"D-Don't say stuff like that…"
She laughed gently and held him close.
—End of Flashback—
He snapped back to the present with a sharp breath, hands clenched.
His ears were red again.
He ran a hand down his face and let out a groan.
Three whole boxes… all gone.
Every time he closed his eyes, he could still feel her—see her. Her laugh. Her warmth. The way she looked at him right before everything melted away.
And now… all he could do was sit here, pretending everything was normal.
But nothing felt normal anymore.
_______
[At The Campus]
Celeste is sitting on her class; her eyelids were heavy. Too heavy.
She tried blinking it off, but the moment she stilled for even a second, sleep pulled at her like gravity.
Another yawn—barely stifled.
Three boxes.
Gone.
Zero left.
Not a single one for next time.
Her whole body ached in the most deliciously annoying way. She shifted slightly in her seat, crossing her legs to ease the tension between her thighs.
Her wrist still had faint red lines from where Ash had held her hands against the pillows last night—or was that just this morning?
She'd lost track.
"Miss Rivera."
Her name pierced the fog.
Celeste blinked twice, lifting her head slowly.
Professor Del Rosario was staring straight at her, arms crossed. The rest of the students turned to look too.
Celeste sat up quickly, trying to pull herself together.
"Y-Yes?"
"Would you care to answer the question?"
Celeste's heartbeat sped up. She glanced quickly at the slide on the screen. 'Moral Dilemmas in Professional Practice' — and underneath it, the question:
"Is it ever ethical to break confidentiality for the sake of a client's safety? Why or why not?"
She swallowed.
Words—come on, words— her mind scrambled, foggy with memories and a distinct lack of sleep.
"Uh… y-yes. I mean—there are situations when breaking confidentiality is justified," she said, fumbling slightly.
A few students snickered quietly.
Celeste exhaled, blinking hard, then forced her brain to kick in.
"Like… if there's risk of self-harm or harm to others. It's—uh—ethically permitted under duty to protect… even if it's against the client's will."
Professor Del Rosario gave a nod.
"Correct. But don't just memorize the code — understand it. Situations like that happen in real life. They're not hypothetical."
Celeste nodded quickly, trying not to wince at the heat blooming in her cheeks. She sat back in her chair, her shoulders sinking slowly. Her thighs still ached.
"…Okay, I need to ask," Lyka muttered beside her, not even looking her way as she leaned forward casually. "Did you not sleep again?"
Celeste blinked.
"Huh?"
"You've been out of it all morning," Lyka continued. "You were barely standing while we walked to class. Like you got tackled in your sleep or something."
Celeste gave a lazy chuckle, brushing her hair behind her ear.
"It's just lack of sleep. Nothing wild."
Lyka finally looked at her—and her eyes narrowed, a little suspicious, a little teasing.
"You and Ash… something happen?"
Celeste's breath caught—but only for a second.
She put on the calmest smile she could manage and shook her head lightly.
"Nope. Nothing happened."
She even added a shrug for good measure.
"He just stayed up late doing work, and I couldn't sleep without him. That's all."
Lyka arched a brow. She clearly wasn't buying all of it.
"You're a terrible liar," she muttered.
Celeste laughed again, half-genuine, half-playing it off.
"And you overthink way too much."
Lyka narrowed her eyes one last time, then sighed.
"Fine. I'll let it pass for now."
Celeste let out a soft breath of relief as her friend turned back to her notes.
At the front, the professor moved on, flipping to the next case study slide.
Her eyes burned from lack of sleep. And her brain? She wasn't sure it could survive another all-nighter.
Especially if Ash kissed her again like that.
She reached for her phone and tapped the screen, squinting at the time.
10:12 AM.
March 02.
Celeste blinked at it for a moment.
Then, under her breath, she murmured,
"March second…"
Her brows furrowed lightly.
March third—
Her eyes widened just a little.
Ash's birthday.
She stared at the date again as it hovered on the screen, the soft glow like a whisper she'd nearly forgotten.
A tired smile pulled at her lips.
"Tomorrow," she mumbled to herself
Tomorrow was Ash's birthday.
And she hadn't planned a single thing.
Yet.
____________