The pale morning light slipped through the gap in the curtains, spilling faintly across the bed. Noah opened his eyes and realized he was still curled in Asher's arms. The man's arm was draped heavily across his waist, warm and almost burning.
The room was quiet, filled only with the sound of their breathing.
Noah lay there for several seconds without moving, his gaze fixed on the face so close to his own. Even in sleep, Asher's brows remained faintly furrowed, though without their usual severity. In that moment, he seemed almost like someone else—peaceful, defenseless.
Noah's chest tightened. The memories of last night were still vivid—heat pressed against him, the suffocating intensity of being devoured whole. His body remembered every detail.
He raised his hand almost without thinking. His fingertips hovered against the man's jawline, lingering, before his eyes dropped to Asher's lips. The distance between them was barely anything. All he had to do was lean forward, and he could kiss him.
A voice inside him urged—kiss him.
But just before his lips brushed skin, he froze. His breath faltered, trembling.
No. I can't.
It wasn't his to take.
Noah shut his eyes hard, withdrawing his hand. Careful, deliberate, he eased himself out of Asher's embrace. His movements were so light that not a sound escaped. He padded barefoot to the bathroom.
The mirror showed a pale face, lips still faintly swollen. He stared at his reflection for several seconds, then splashed cold water over himself as if to wash it away.
When he'd finally composed himself, Noah went to the kitchen.
The fridge was well stocked. He moved through it quietly, frying an egg, toasting a few slices of bread, and brewing a cup of black coffee. His hands worked in silence, as though he were deliberately erasing every trace of his presence.
He set the breakfast neatly on the table, then pulled a sticky note from the pad.
I'm heading to set first. Breakfast is on the table.
He signed his name at the bottom, hesitated a moment, and placed the note in the corner. Grabbing his bag, he slipped out the door without a sound.
——
By the time Asher woke, the space beside him was empty.
He frowned, reaching for the sheets. They were still faintly warm.
He wandered into the living room, his eyes landing on the table—breakfast neatly plated, and a note left at the edge. The handwriting was cool, elegant, giving nothing away.
Asher held the paper for a long time, lips pressed tight.
At last, he folded it and tucked it into his pocket. Pulling out a chair, he sat down and ate breakfast slowly, methodically.
——
On set, the morning scenes were packed. The director's tone was as sharp as ever.
"Today's focus is on your emotional shift. Control the pacing. Don't make me call for too many takes."
Noah nodded. "Understood."
Asher only gave a curt hmm.
Once the cameras rolled, both of them slipped seamlessly into character. In costume, Noah's aura shifted at once—his eyes turning cold, his movements precise, sharp. It was as though the character had stepped out of the script and onto the set.
Asher, of course, needed no introduction. His presence alone quieted the crew. Together, their scenes unfolded smoothly, their chemistry sparking without flaw.
The director, still stern, nonetheless looked faintly pleased. "Good. Prepare for the next sequence."
The atmosphere remained tight, disciplined. But by lunch break, whispers began to stir.
"Did you hear? A new actor's joining this afternoon."
"Who?"
"No one knows. The director's been keeping it secret. Not even the script was fully released."
"You're kidding."
"Supposedly, he's cast as the brother of the role Noah's playing."
Speculation buzzed through the crew, glances darting toward the director. His expression remained stony, and no one dared press him further.
Noah, sitting in the lounge with a water bottle in hand, caught fragments of the gossip. His brows drew faintly together, but he didn't dwell on it. He lowered his gaze and took a sip of water.
Beside him, Asher sprawled with his long legs stretched out, looking for all the world like he couldn't care less.
——
By mid-afternoon, the set had been reset and anticipation hung in the air. Everyone waited for the "mystery role."
At three o'clock, the doors finally opened.
A tall figure stepped inside.
He wore a simple shirt and slacks, but his presence was magnetic. His features were refined, his air calm and warm. Unlike Asher's sharp, cutting aura, his felt like a spring breeze—gentle, yet impossible to ignore.
"Wait—Ren?!" someone whispered.
"No way… it really is him!"
The set rippled with shock.
Ren. An internationally acclaimed actor, as celebrated as Asher himself. Award after award, a career stacked with masterpieces. He was Asher's rival in every sense, a fixture of red carpets and juries alike.
And yet—he was here. Playing a supporting role.
Noah froze. He had never imagined the new cast member would be Ren. Until now, he'd only seen him at award shows or in the news—always immaculate, exuding effortless grace. Up close, it was even more striking. His skin was sun-warmed, his gaze mild but edged with steel.
Noah had admired Ren's craft for years. His skill was undeniable—every bit Asher's equal.
Ren moved through the crew with easy warmth, shaking hands, smiling without arrogance.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said to the director, voice smooth, carrying. "Thank you for having me."
For once, the director's stern face eased into a rare smile. "Welcome aboard."
Asher's expression darkened, his fingers drumming lightly against the armrest of his chair. He'd known from the start this role was Ren's. Sarah had said it herself—when she'd written the "forbidden kiss" arc, the brother's role had been crafted for him.
Ren's gaze shifted, finally landing on Noah. His lips curved in a warm smile.
"You must be Noah. I saw your stage clips—impressive work."
Caught off guard, Noah blinked. "…Thank you. It's an honor to meet you."
Ren extended his hand with a slight bow. "I look forward to working with you."
Hesitating only a beat, Noah accepted the handshake. Ren's palm was firm, steady. For a moment, Noah found himself oddly dazed.
"Beautiful name," Ren added with a richer smile.
From the side, Asher's eyes narrowed, his gaze locked on their clasped hands.
The director cleared his throat. "Alright. Let's save the pleasantries. Time to review the script."
——
They gathered at a table, assistants passing out copies.
Ren flipped through his, eyes intent, though a faint smile lingered at his lips. "So I'm playing Noah's brother. Complicated dynamics."
The director nodded. "He's a turning point in the story. You'll need to blur the line—family bond edged with something more. That ambiguity is key."
Noah glanced up. "How do you think that should come across?"
Ren met his eyes, voice patient, thoughtful. "I'd lean into the protective instinct. A brother's gaze that isn't purely fraternal—something tender, restrained, but crossing that line just enough. It creates tension."
Noah paused, then nodded slowly. "That makes sense. I can try."
Ren's smile deepened. "We can rehearse together a few extra times. Find what feels natural."
From across the table, Asher's voice cut in, cool and sharp. "Natural—or calculated?"
The air stilled.
Ren looked up, unruffled, his smile never slipping. "Natural, of course. Don't worry. I won't steal your spotlight."
Asher's gaze chilled, but he said nothing more.
Noah glanced between them, an uneasy weight settling in his chest.
It felt like the calm before a storm.