Linghe looked down at her. Up close, the Japanese-Filipino blend of her features was devastating. He reached out, his hand hesitant but drawn by an invisible magnet, his thumb gently tracing the line of her collarbone.
"You've told me that you're a woman who hates to lose," Linghe said quietly, his voice barely a murmur. "You've told me that every look you give me is a calculation. And you've told me that you're bored of everyone else because no one else sees the monster behind the genius."
Nyx's heart skipped—not out of fear, but out of the sheer thrill of being seen. Her obsession with him wasn't just about his face; it was about this: his ability to perceive the darkness she hid from her parents and the world.
"A monster?" she teased, her voice a low purr. She reached up, her wet fingers grazing the nape of his neck, sending a visible shiver through his broad frame. "That's such a dramatic word, Linghe. I prefer... enthusiast."
She leaned in, her lips almost brushing his jaw. "I've watched your movies. I know you like to play the stoic hero who sacrifices everything. But here, in this cove? There's no script. There's just a very quiet man and a very 'bored' girl. Tell me... who is in control right now?"