Morning rose like a warm breath, still carrying the shadows of the night.
Nari woke slowly, as if her entire body was still floating between two worlds:
the one where Sion had consumed her,
and the one where she had to return to breathe.
Her muscles ached —
a soft, deep, almost delicious pain,
vibrating through her skin like invisible bruises left by his hands,
his mouth,
his teeth.
She inhaled, a shiver running down her spine, the burning memory of the night imprinted against every inch of her body.
Sion was already awake.
He was watching her in silence, head slightly tilted on the pillow, his black hair messy, his bare chest rising slowly.
His golden eyes, still clouded with sleep, devoured her in a single look —
soft, possessive, almost tender.
A corner-smile tugged at his lips.
One of those smiles.
The kind that weakens your knees.
The kind that says you're mine without saying a word.
— Morning… she murmured, her voice still broken.
She leaned toward him and pressed her lips to his.
A slow kiss.
A kiss that had nothing of last night's brutality,
but everything of the aftermath:
skin still warm, hearts still stuck together,
the sweetness that comes when two bodies have already burned everything together.
Sion's taste was still on her tongue —
a blend of fever, night, and them.
He closed his eyes, savoring it, his fingers brushing her face as if he feared she might vanish.
Nari finally got up, naked, her skin prickling at the cool air that drifted through the room.
Morning light slid over her, revealing the faint trace of his fingers on her hips, the nearly faded bites along her neck.
Sion watched her cross the room without saying a word —
his eyes following her like a silent prayer,
like an obsession he no longer knew how to hide.
She entered the bathroom, let the hot water run, steam already filling the space when he joined her.
The door closed behind him.
Water hit the tiles in a steady rush.
Nari felt his body before she even saw it.
Sion slid behind her, his warmth cutting through the burning water, his hands settling on her waist with a deliberate, almost reverent slowness.
— Still beautiful… even under water, he murmured against her wet skin.
He kissed her neck, kisses melting into the stream, his lips warm as they gently bit at her damp skin.
She laughed softly as she turned around and wrapped her arms around him, their bodies sliding against each other, foam slipping over their shoulders, their hands finding each other without hesitation.
He pressed his chest to her back, the heat of his skin contrasting with the scalding water.
Nari closed her eyes.
Her heart stuttered.
He brushed his lips along her neck, a kiss so light she barely felt the pressure —
just the warmth, the promise, the shiver.
Then he bit her, harder this time, enough to pull a small sigh from her throat that dissolved into the steam.
She turned in his arms, her eyes lifting to his, water running down both their faces.
Sion was smiling — not a mocking smile, not a dark one.
A real smile.
A rare, precious one, as if it existed only for her.
— Don't move, he whispered.
He took soap in his hands… and began to wash her.
Not quickly.
Not absentmindedly.
Slowly.
With an almost religious attention.
His fingers traced every line of her body, slid over her shoulders, down her arms, massaging her hips in slow, circular motions.
White foam drew curves along her skin, and he followed them with his fingertips, as if learning her body by heart.
— You're perfect, he breathed.
The way he looked at her…
as if she were a piece of art he was afraid to damage.
Nari laughed softly when he accidentally tickled her while soaping her stomach, and a smile burst across his face —
a real one, rare, bright.
She grabbed some soap in return, brought her hands to his chest.
They slid over his pecs, his abdomen, his defined abs, water making every muscle glisten.
He shivered, his eyes darkening, his breath growing heavier.
— You know exactly what you're doing, he murmured against her mouth.
She shrugged with innocence —
an innocence so fake it made him laugh.
A real laugh.
A sound that vibrated in his chest.
Their foreheads pressed together, water running between them, their breaths mingling.
His hands slid slowly down her back, pulling her closer.
For a few seconds, there was nothing but this:
the sound of water,
their slippery skin,
their heavy breaths,
their locked gazes.
A suspended moment.
A moment of rare softness between two storms.
Then… the fracture.
His gaze drifted.
His smile faded.
The mask returned.
And the shadow fell.
The shift in atmosphere was brutal.
As if the joy and lightness of the shower had shattered against an invisible wall.
Water continued running over their intertwined bodies, streaming down their wet skin, but Sion froze suddenly, jaw tightening, shoulders tensing as if something had just crashed down inside him.
Nari felt it instantly.
A shadow.
A new tension.
A silent fall.
She gently placed her hand on his chest, her palm sliding over the warm skin where drops of water gathered.
— Sion… are you okay?
He didn't answer.
His eyes were lost somewhere behind her, fixed on something only his memory could see, something she didn't know yet, something already tearing at him.
Then he closed his eyes for a moment.
A moment too long.
Too heavy.
When he opened them again, he wasn't the man who laughed with her under the water seconds earlier.
— We should leave early, he said in a low, tense voice, something broken hiding at the edge.
She's waiting for us.
Just two sentences.
But they fell like an axe.
He stepped out of the shower in a sharp movement, almost nervous, grabbing a towel without even looking at her, leaving behind trembling steam and Nari frozen under the spray, water hitting her skin without warmth.
The door closed gently.
Nari remained alone under the water, unmoving, hot water striking her back like heavy rain.
A knot tightened in her throat.
She knew this version of Sion.
The Sion who shut down.
The Sion who suffered in silence.
The Sion she had to follow, no matter how much he resisted.
She placed a hand against the cold tile, inhaled deeply.
The day had barely begun…
and already, something in the air was breaking.
They left the apartment an hour later.
Sion didn't speak.
Not a word.
In the car, the silence weighed as heavily as the engine.
The vehicle's hum vibrated under their legs like a warning, Seoul's landscape sliding past in blurry shadows, neon lights streaking their faces like cold scars of light.
Nari watched him from the corner of her eye, her hands on her thighs, her fingers trembling slightly.
His hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, veins tight along his forearms beneath his shirt.
His gaze stayed locked forward, frozen in a harshness that stabbed her straight through the chest.
He had that face…
that face he only wore when he was holding back something enormous.
Fleeing it.
Protecting himself from himself.
At a red light, Nari placed her hand on his thigh.
A light touch.
A simple gesture.
A call.
His eyes dropped.
One second.
Just one.
But enough for her to see the crack.
The shadow.
The fear.
That old pain vibrating beneath his skin like a memory ready to explode.
Then he gently moved his leg away.
Not rejection.
Panic.
The light turned green.
He accelerated.
In front of the clinic, the world felt different.
Colder.
Quieter.
The air carried that antiseptic and metal smell that sticks to your skin, stings your nose, makes you feel as if you've walked into a forbidden place.
Daewon was already waiting, a file clutched against him, his face perfectly neutral but his eyes alert.
Nari felt Sion's stress spike instantly.
His shoulders tightened, his breath shortened.
He placed a trembling hand on the car door handle.
— Nari… stay here. I'll be right back.
His voice was soft, too soft to be real.
A softness used like a bandage.
Or like a barrier.
She opened her mouth to argue.
He was already looking away.
Daewon stepped forward.
— Mr. Sion, he said, bowing slightly as he handed him the file,
— Here is the report you requested. But… regarding the bar owner… I found nothing except his name.
Sion didn't blink.
Just one muscle on his jaw that twitched.
— I'll look into it later. Thank you, Daewon.
— Always at your service, sir.
They spoke for another moment, but Nari didn't hear a word.
She watched Sion.
The way he kept his head high.
The way he inhaled before entering.
As if preparing himself to take a blow he knew was coming.
He returned to her, his face closed, his eyes gleaming with a tension she could almost taste in the air.
— Come, he murmured.
And she followed him through the cold hallways, her heart beating too fast, their steps echoing like a countdown.
In front of the room, Sion stopped.
He inhaled.
Long.
Too long.
Then he placed his hand on the door handle.
His fingers trembled.
— Stay behind me.
The words were firm.
But his voice…
it could barely stand.
And Nari knew — without the slightest doubt — that the moment he opened that door…
she would enter a part of him
he had never allowed anyone to see.