Every time she lifted her gaze just a little, to check if she was imagining it…
He was still there.
Eyes locked on her.
Steady.
Smooth.
Unshakeable.
A presence heavier than all the conversations around them.
A heat under her skin made a thin line of sweat form behind her neck.
A soft, subtle oppression—yet impossible to ignore.
A disorienting mix of danger and fascination.
Aera passed behind her, a tray in her hands, and whispered very quietly:
— He hasn't taken his eyes off you for twenty minutes.
Her smile was playful, but her gaze… almost worried.
Nari felt her heart slam harder.
Too hard.
— Why is he looking at me like that? she murmured, as if speaking too loud could break something.
Aera shrugged, pretending not to notice how Kai tilted his head slightly to catch their whisper despite the music.
— He's like that.
She twirled a glass, amused.
— And he rarely chooses anyone. So… good luck.
Nari swallowed, painfully.
⸻
Whenever she bent down to grab a bottle, she felt his gaze slide down her legs.
Whenever she straightened up, she felt his gaze climb her spine.
Whenever she parted her lips to speak to a customer, she felt his gaze burn her mouth.
It wasn't discreet.
It wasn't polite.
It wasn't innocent.
It was deliberate.
Assumed.
Possessive.
As if he didn't care at all that the whole bar could see the way he was watching her.
As if she already belonged to him—
before they had even exchanged more than three sentences.
⸻
Later, she was shaking a shaker between her hands, the ice hitting the metal with a rhythm that vibrated all the way up her wrist.
Her skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat under the warm lights, her hair sticking slightly to her temple.
She felt his gaze travel slowly along her arm—
like a caress without touching.
She lifted her eyes—
and was trapped.
This time, he didn't look away.
He watched her as if she had just done something intimate only for him.
Her breath caught.
The shaker nearly slipped from her hands.
He smiled.
Barely.
A smile that said:
I saw that.
I understood.
I know what it does to you.
She hated him for that.
For one second.
Because he was right.
Then she hated him even more…
for the way her body reacted despite herself.
A low heat.
A deep tension.
A shiver rising along her panties.
Fuck.
⸻
He suddenly disappeared for almost an hour, swallowed by a hidden door in the back of the bar.
Like an elegant ghost.
As if he had never been there.
And just when Nari thought she could breathe a little…
He returned.
Sat again in the exact same spot.
And resumed.
The same stillness.
The same silence.
The same slow, methodical, almost scientific observation.
She served two drinks.
Three customers.
An entire group.
Ryo passed by, joked, imitated a drunk customer.
She laughed.
A light, freeing laugh.
Night moved on, and the last customers left one by one, their steps gliding over the polished wood in a soft rustle of fabric and mingled perfumes.
The lights dimmed, growing warmer, yellower, almost intimate, until the Black Orchid became a dark cocoon where even breaths seemed louder.
Aera was putting glasses away while humming softly, Ryo wiping the counter with an easy rhythm…
And Kai, still, did not move.
He sat in the same spot, same posture, his empty glass in front of him.
He hadn't drunk in a while.
He was simply… there.
Watching.
Breathing in that strange calm wrapping around him like a second skin.
Nari felt the tension tighten around her throat, that electric heaviness sending shivers down her spine and making her heart beat a little too fast.
She wiped a glass with a damp cloth, but her fingers trembled slightly—
not enough for others to notice,
but enough for him to see.
And of course…
he saw.
His gaze slid slowly down to her hands, then back up to her mouth, before locking onto her eyes with almost painful intensity.
She looked away.
Breathed.
Tried to focus on her tasks.
But it was impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
Because Kai's presence swallowed the air in the room, as if every molecule aligned itself around him.
Because he looked the way only dangerous men know how to look—
without shame, without detour, without mask.
With silent hunger.
With a mute promise.
With something almost… predatory.
And yet, nothing in his posture was aggressive.
Just… stable.
Controlled.
Too controlled.
The kind of control that hides a volcano.
⸻
Aera came closer, shaking two empty bottles.
— We close after this! I vote we celebrate Nari's first day properly!
Ryo raised a glass.
— Excellent idea!
Nari gave them a sincere smile—
she had gotten used to them in a single night, as if she had known them for months.
Aera poured for Ryo first, then herself.
Then she filled Nari's glass.
And then…
She paused.
Hesitated.
Then, very slowly, lifted her eyes to Kai.
— Mr. Kai? Want one too?
He stared at her for a moment… a long moment… before answering in a low voice that vibrated in the air:
— If that's what you want.
A simple sentence.
But said with that tone…
That tone that made it sound like he wasn't talking about the drink.
Aera blushed despite herself, surprised by the intensity of that single glance.
— Alright… she muttered, placing a glass in front of him.
Kai didn't thank her.
He didn't even touch the drink at first.
He waited for Nari to take hers.
And only when their fingers brushed their glasses at the same time…
did he lift his.
A coordinated gesture.
Precise.
Almost ritualistic.
Nari felt a shiver crawl up her nape.
They toasted, Aera laughing like a child, Ryo telling a stupid story about a drunk customer who fell asleep in the bathroom.
Everyone laughed.
Everyone talked.
Everyone moved, gestured, fidgeted—
Except Kai.
He remained silent.
His hands resting on the wood.
His glass raised halfway.
His eyes on Nari—again, still, always—without a single blink too many.
To the others, he looked like he was part of the celebration.
Nari knew he wasn't part of it at all.
He was watching.
Listening.
Analyzing.
Waiting.
The night went on for about ten more minutes—
books, laughter, empty glasses, Ryo's stories, Aera's bright voice—
The night of alcohol and dim lights died slowly, replaced by the metallic blue of dawn filtering through the windows of the Black Orchid.
The laughter faded.
The glasses were empty.
Footsteps dragged, less sure, less precise.
Aera collapsed onto a booth, laughing at her own exhaustion, her cheeks warm with alcohol.
Ryo was putting away bottles while whistling, his movements slightly clumsy, a bit too loose to still be sober.
Time stretched another few minutes.
Dawn grew clearer.
Aera yawned, Ryo packed up his things.
— Alright… kids… I'm going to die if I stay standing another thirty seconds, Aera said, stretching.
Ryo nodded, clapping Nari's shoulder.
— You killed it for your first shift. Rest up, you're gonna need it.
He headed to the exit.
Aera kissed Nari's cheek, gave her one last conspiratorial wink.
Then she left too, stumbling slightly.
The door closed behind them.
And suddenly…
The bar became enormous.
Empty.
Silent.
Only two glasses on the counter.
Two chairs.
Two silhouettes.
Nari.
And Kai.
⸻
He finally stood.
Slowly.
Without haste, without noise, without any agitation.
Like a predator who knows he doesn't need to run to catch what he wants.
His steps on the wooden floor were so quiet she couldn't hear anything—
she only perceived the vibration of his approach, that heavy tension that made the air denser.
He stopped right in front of her.
Close enough for her to feel the heat of his body.
Close enough for his scent—woody, dark, sharp—to brush against her throat.
Close enough for his shadow to blend with hers.
He lowered his head slightly, his eyes fixed on her, on her lips, on her throat, on the little tension in her jaw.
He observed everything.
Absolutely everything.
Then he murmured, in a voice so deep it seemed to resonate in her stomach:
— Get some rest.
His voice turned into a whisper.
An order.
A verbal touch.
— We'll see each other again very soon.
Then he walked around her, headed toward the exit.
He didn't look back.
He didn't need to.
Because every step he took echoed through Nari's body.
And when he walked through the door…
a shiver ran through her entire body.
She knew—deep inside—that a new danger had entered her life.
And that she had absolutely no intention of escaping it.
The drive back home was strange.
The streetlights cast a tired yellow light on the sidewalks.
The tires slid softly over the wet asphalt.
The buildings went by like blurry silhouettes.
She drove fast.
Too fast.
Because she wanted to get home.
Because she wanted to sleep.
Because she wanted to forget that obsidian gaze.
⸻
She parked the car.
The parking lot was quiet, almost too quiet.
The cold morning air bit at her cheeks as she closed the door.
She went up the stairs slowly, keys clenched in her hand, her heart pounding against her chest.
When she slid the key into the lock…
her breath caught.
The door wasn't locked.
She felt an electric jolt at the base of her neck.
A cold sweat slid down her spine.
She pushed it open slowly.
⸻
The living room was plunged into semi-darkness.
A single source of light: the TV, on with the sound muted, casting a bluish glow across the room.
And in that glow…
a seated silhouette, motionless.
Sion.