Morning crept in with a pale, anxious hush, as though the world outside held its breath for what was coming.
Both of them were dressed for the press conference. Kairo stood crisp in a white shirt and blue suit, the kind of clean sharpness that made the morning light cling to him. Sara tightened the last loop of his tie, fingers steady, while his gaze drifted nowhere else but her, focused, warm, and carrying a very different intention than the occasion demanded.
She tapped his chest lightly, offering a small smile. "Good luck," she whispered.
He dipped forward immediately, catching her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss, pulling her closer by her waist. "As long as my soda glass is beside me, I fear nothing," he murmured against her mouth. "She is my good luck charm."
He stole another quick peck before she could scold him.
Sara scrunched her nose. "Don't get cheesy this early in the morning. You have a big day today."
A lazy, breathy chuckle escaped him. "I know how to handle the outside world, darling." His voice dropped, a smoky whisper. "What's hard… is choosing which part of you I should take right now. The upper lip? Or the lower, soft, juicy one."
Her breath stuttered. "Kairo..."
He didn't. Of course, he didn't. One smooth step, and he crowded her back against the dresser, completely unbothered by the chaos outside the world.
She pushed his chest lightly, but he only smirked, hands sliding down with zero shame, fingers slipping between her thighs just enough to draw a sharp inhale from her. His hand pressed between her thighs in a sinful, deliberate stroke that made her inhale sharply.
"Behave… asshole," she whispered sharply, shooting him a warning glance while Zayn sat on his tiny bed, babbling to himself and tapping toys together.
Kairo's voice dropped, dark and needy. "Come to the bathroom. I need you. Right now. Five minutes. I swear I'll be quick."
Her jaw fell open. "Kairo, are you serious?! Today of all—"
"I'm stressed," he whispered, leaning down, forehead brushing hers. "I need dopamine. Let me breathe you in. Just for a moment."
His fingers traced dangerously close again, teasing, begging for permission.
Her heart thudded. "Dad must be waiting for us. We're dressed. We need to leave."
"I won't ruin anything." His lips brushed near her lips. "Just let me have you. Just a taste of you. Just warmth. That's all I'm asking. A little taste of peace before the world eats me alive."
She looked at him, really looked. The exhaustion behind his eyes. The storm outside. The weight on his shoulders. And this man, who only felt safe in her arms.
She exhaled softly and glanced at Zayn. Still busy. Still absorbed in his toy car, oblivious to the universe behind him spiraling with tension.
Sara exhaled a long, defeated breath. "Fine… come. And make it fast." She grabbed his wrist, cheeks flushed.
His smirk was immediate, wicked, and relieved. They slipped into the bathroom. The door closed behind them. He backed her against the sink, hands slipping inside her dress, undoing her panties.
He looked at her, rolling her dress up, before spreading her legs and sliding down. He positioned himself between her thighs, his lips devouring her velvety walls. Sara's breath hitched, her hands immediately moving to grip his hair, guiding him to her warmth.
"You really wanted this right now?" she asked between her shaky breath.
Instead of answering, he looped his arms around her thighs, spreading her wide, holding her tight, his tongue teasing the entrance of the warmth, forming the tight knot in her core, making her shiver out of pleasure. A shaky moan escaped from her lips.
"You're sinning early in the morning," she complained. His lips twitched, yet his tongue was working. As soon as the flow of glistening nectar appeared in her entrance, he took it all once with an open-mouth kiss, savoring the taste of her.
"Fuck... I can't," she whispered, gripping his hair, breath heavy, drowned in pleasure, flowing down completely, wet, sweet, glistening.
He breathed hard when he saw her come undone for him, messy and trembling. He stopped and pressed his face against her warmth, sinking into her, breathing her in, surrendering himself to her, easing his nerves under the scent of her. For a moment, he looked like a man worshipping the only place that could calm him. His forehead rested against her walls, eyes closed, breath evening out.
She brushed his hair, slowly calming him, soothing his tension away. After a moment, he lifted his head, looking at her. His face was messy, dirty, but his eyes spoke more than anything; notice his messy, dirty face.
"Kairo.." she called. He stood up, kissing her lips immediately, holding her face. She kissed him back; it was gentle, yet possessive. His kiss told her silently that she owned him. She keeps him alive. he pulled back and, "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for being mine."
She looked into his eyes, "You okay?"
He smiled a little at her concerned tone. He pecked her lips. "Yes. Just… overwhelmed by your warmth. And your taste," he whispered.
She looked at him, "Your face became literally messy and dirty," she said.
He chuckled, "You were too good to just devour, I couldn't help but just surrender myself."
She pushed him gently. He chuckled, pulling her into another messy kiss.
"I guess you need some kind of therapy, you are acting weird these days," she said.
He chuckled, "Just stay with me, that's enough, I don't need any other therapy," he whispered.
She narrowed her eyes. "Think again that I might leave you.. I'm really gonna leave you," she threatened.
He leaned closer, 'Bear with me, darling, I'm literally going through many emotional rollercoasters these days, which is pushing me to an extreme level of emotional depth, which I don't know how to process, and I end up acting weird," he said.
She looked at him for a moment and then just brushed a kiss to his lips, "Don't go that deep. I'm not going anywhere," she said.
He pressed his forehead with hers, grounding himself. She smiled. Then said, "You said five minutes. It's already more than five. And you promised not to ruin anything. Look at your dirty face, painted with shit," she teased.
He chuckled, "It's not shit, it's my dopamine, my reward, I would love to get paint with it again and again."
She rolled her eyes and grabbed wet tissues from the side and wiped his face clean, washing his hands neatly, fixing his tie.
She hopped down from the sink, searching for her panties, but then she looked at him, holding it like a trophy, eyes mischievous. She tried to grab it from his hand, but he refused, teasing her,
"Don't play with me, idiot, give it to me already, we are getting late," she scolded.
But he refused to give. She glared and sighed, "Fine.. keep it, I'll wear another."
He smirked and kissed the piece of cloth, just to annoy her. And slipped it into his pocket.
"Why the fuck are you keeping it in your pocket?" she hissed.
"For instant-dopamine," he said, fixing his hair, looking into the mirror. She sighed, done with his craziness, and pulled him out of the bathroom; he chuckled, following her.
The bathroom door clicked open, and the two of them stepped out looking freshly composed, though the faint flush on Sara's cheeks gave away the stolen five minutes. Kairo looked annoyingly satisfied, the kind of smug glow a man got only from his favorite vice.
Sara ignored him and headed straight to the cupboard, pulling out a clean pair of underwear with the speed and precision of someone refusing to acknowledge what just happened.
Kairo, still adjusting his cuffs, walked to Zayn, who was perched on the bed with the toy car still held upside down.
"My baby Zayn is all ready and looking so handsome," he murmured, sitting beside him.
Zayn tilted his head up, tiny eyes blinking slowly, his curls slightly messy from rolling around the bed.
Kairo leaned in and kissed his little nose, making the toddler jerk back with a surprised giggle."I'm ready from morning! You are late, Dada." Zayn declared, proud and serious.
Kairo's heart melted clean on the spot. "Sorry, my love. Dada had an important job, so I'm late."Zayn only stared back blankly because whatever "important job" Dada had, clearly went over his tiny head.
Behind them, Sara finished fixing her dress, smoothing the fabric over her thighs with a quick exhale.
"Come on, let's go. We're already late," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
Kairo scooped Zayn into his arms and fell into step behind her, but not without giving her butt a light smack.
Sara nearly tripped. "Kairo!" she hissed. "Behave, idiot! We're going to handle an important matter. Don't act weird in front of cameras. People might really think you're a pervert."
He giggled, that boyish, trouble-making sound he made only for her. Walking faster, he caught her hand. "Yes, boss."
They entered the living room where Charles was waiting, fully dressed, expression collected and steady. "Ready?" he asked the moment they appeared.
Sara nodded with a soft smile. "Yes, Dad."
Charles returned the smile before fixing his gaze on Kairo. His tone sharpened. "Behave in front of the press."
Kairo rolled his eyes like a teenager being lectured before school. "Don't get angry or aggressive," Charles continued. "As the attorneys said, stick to the facts. Do not answer hostile questions. Understand?"
"I know. I'm prepared," Kairo muttered, exasperated. "Now, everyone, please stop lecturing me."
Sara and Charles stared at him, unimpressed. Kairo groaned dramatically. "Fine. Fine. I obey you both."
With that, he shifted Zayn comfortably on his hip and swept toward the door with theatrical authority.
"Let's go. You two are the ones wasting time, now," he said, walking ahead.
Sara and Charles exchanged the kind of resigned, familiar look only people who've lived through Kairo's moods could share, and followed him out.
The storm outside was ready. The press conference awaited. And together, they stepped into the day that could rewrite everything.