The drive back from the villa was quieter than the drive there. Not uncomfortable, just heavy with things neither of them had said yet.
Nara sat angled toward the window at first, watching the city lights blur past, her fingers absently tracing the seam of her dress. Keigh drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on the console, his presence steady, grounding, achingly familiar.
"You've been quiet," he said at last, glancing at her.
She smiled faintly. "Just… thinking."
"About my mother?" he asked, tone careful.
"She likes me," Nara said, more statement than question. "I didn't expect that."
Keigh's lips curved. "She doesn't give her approval easily. If she likes you, it's because she sees something real."
Nara didn't respond right away. Her heart was still warm from the evening. How his mother had listened, how she'd laughed, how she'd looked at Nara like she was already part of something.
When they reached Keigh's place, the city had quieted. The apartment greeted them with familiar stillness, soft lighting automatically warming the space as the door closed behind them. Keigh loosened his tie, watching Nara slip out of her heels, the way she always did, careful, graceful, like she was still learning to exist in places this refined.
"Stay," he said simply.
She looked up. "Tonight?"
"Yes."
There was no pressure in his voice, just hope.
"I've missed having you here," he added. "The space feels… wrong without you."
Something in her expression softened.
"Okay," she said quietly.
That was all it took. The moment the door shut behind them again, Keigh's restraint thinned, not vanished, but stretched tight. He crossed the space in two steps, one hand lifting to her waist, the other to her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek like he was memorizing her.
"I've been good," he murmured. "Painfully good."
Nara laughed softly, breath hitching when his lips brushed her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.
"You're always good," she teased.
His answer was a kiss, slow, deliberate, full of everything he'd held back for days. It deepened quickly, not rushed, but hungry. His hands traced familiar paths, grounding her, reminding her how easily she fit against him. Nara melted into it, fingers curling into his shirt, heart racing at how natural this felt now.
Keigh kissed her until her knees softened, until her breath came shallow. Then he pulled back, just far enough to rest his forehead against hers.
"I need you to know something," he said, voice lower now. Serious.
She blinked up at him. "Keigh?"
His thumb brushed over her lip, gentle despite the tension in his jaw.
"I'm not touching you like this because I lack control," he said. "I have control, I just choose you."
Her chest tightened.
"And I'm not taking you all the way," he continued, eyes locked on hers, "until I've made you Mrs. Dynamite."
The words landed like a shockwave.
Nara froze.
"What?" she breathed.
Keigh didn't flinch, didn't backtrack. He said it like a truth he'd already accepted.
"I've thought about this," he said quietly. "Not impulsively, not because of the ball, or my parents, or pressure. I've thought about you, about waking up next to you and about building something that doesn't feel like a transaction."
Her mind spun.
"Keigh," she whispered, overwhelmed, "that's… that's so far...."
"It's not," he interrupted gently. "Not for me."
She searched his face, expecting doubt, teasing, exaggeration.
There was none.
"How long have you…?" she asked, barely audible.
His lips curved into a soft, almost vulnerable smile. "Longer than I'll admit without embarrassing myself."
Her chest ached. The weight of being wanted like this, chosen, envisioned and kept was almost too much.
"I don't expect anything from you," he added quickly, sensing her spiral. "I'm not rushing you. I just need you to know where I stand."
Her eyes shimmered.
"I didn't know anyone thought about me like that," she confessed.
Keigh leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Get used to it."
They ended up on the couch, bodies curled together, his arm around her, her head on his chest. He kissed her slowly, her jaw, her neck, her shoulder and each touch reverent, unhurried. She felt it, his restraint, the tension he carried for her.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, sensing it.
He chuckled under his breath. "I will be."
Concern flickered across her face, and before he could stop her, her hand slid over his chest, grounding, comforting.
"I don't want you hurting because of me," she murmured.
His breath stilled. "Nara…"
She looked up at him, cheeks warm, eyes earnest. "Let me help. Just… this."
He hesitated, then nodded once, trusting her. When it was over, she was flushed, breathless, stunned by her own boldness. Keigh kissed her knuckles afterward, reverent again, like she was something precious he refused to rush.
Later, tangled together beneath the quiet hum of the city, she whispered,
"You really thought that far ahead."
He tightened his arm around her.
"I don't love halfway," he said simply.
And for the first time, Nara believed that whatever world Keigh came from, dangerous, powerful, overwhelming, he had already made space for her in it. Not as an addition, but as the center and honestly she was here to stay, she just didn't fully know it yet.