[
WARNING
!
Smut
content ahead!]
=== 🤍 ===
[COLE]
Slowly, Cole pressed a cool cloth to her heated skin, dabbing away the sweat with a tenderness he didn't know he had.
But as he brushed his hand over her skin, his fingers grazed the edge of her cleavage, soft and warm beneath his touch. His pulse spiked as he felt the soft rise against his hand. Every nerve in his body tensed, the heat building inside him all over again.
He forced himself to focus, struggling to push down the desire stirring inside him. He wiped her down and carefully eased a clean shirt over her, doing his best not to look at her too long, though his heart was hammering so loudly he could hardly think.
Before a permanent zipper mark appeared on his cock, he was done, and Cole nearly bolted from the room, heading straight for the bathroom.
He turned on the shower, letting the cold water pour over him. He didn't bother to remove his clothes, allowing the icy stream to collide with his body, numbing the heat that had consumed him.
Realizing how much she meant to him was one thing. Feeling the depth of his own desire, the primal need to be close to her, was something else.
He leaned heavily against the wall, breathing deeply to calm himself. The intensity of his feelings both thrilled and unnerved him, and he couldn't shake the sensation that, if he didn't gain control, he might just lose himself entirely.
If this continued, he knew he would finally lose his sanity.
=== ===
[EVE]
That day at the beach felt like a rare, golden moment. I'd made sure to dress up, putting on a swimsuit that was modest but highlighted my best features.
I mean, not to brag, but I was naturally blessed in certain areas, and I take pride in that.
I could feel all these lingering stares coming at me from every direction, but my gaze was locked on one person alone—Cole Fay, stretched out under the sun with nothing but swim shorts and a pair of sunglasses, completely indifferent to everything around him.
My heart was racing, my nerves fluttering with excitement as I approached him, feeling a mix of anticipation and just a little bit of fear.
"C-Cole . . . want me to rub some sunscreen on you?" I stammered, my hands already half-raised.
I knew it was supposed to be the other way around, but this was my chance to actually touch him, his bare skin under my fingertips—and the thought alone had me practically drooling with anticipation.
He slowly lifted his sunglasses, gave me a quick, sleepy glance, and then . . . went right back to napping.
My confidence took a major hit. It felt like I could have paraded around in a neon signboard,
naked
, and he still wouldn't notice.
But I wasn't going to let that ruin the day—I mean, we were at the beach! It was a beautiful moment, and I had big plans.
"Cole, I have something to tell you!" I declared, feeling my pulse spike with courage.
"What?" he mumbled, barely opening his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, I launched into it. "Cole, I love you!"
Without missing a beat, he replied in the most bored tone, "I know."
I paused, a bit deflated by his lackluster response, but I wasn't backing down that easily. "Cole, je t'aime!" I tried again in French.
"Je sais," he replied, this time in perfect French, still not looking up.
I gritted my teeth, switching gears. "Ti amo, Cole!"
"Lo so." This time, Italian.
"Aishiteru, Cole!" I tried in Japanese.
His reply was instant. "Shitteru yo."
I tried in every language I could remember: "Te quiero! Saranghae! Ich liebe dich!" Each time, his answer was the same, and each time, he sounded like he was reciting it in his sleep.
Finally, out of breath and slightly defeated, I sighed and slumped down beside him. "Did you just rejected me in ten languages?"
Without opening his eyes, he just muttered, "Maybe because I've heard it enough times." And, with a small smirk, he added, "But I
know
, okay?"
And just like that, a smile crept back onto my face, realizing that maybe he wasn't as indifferent as he pretended to be.
I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. The headache wasn't as intense as before, and the fever seemed to have cooled down a bit.
I wasn't sure why I'd dreamed about that past since it didn't really matter anymore.
I wanted to get up, but the tug of an IV drip in my hand made me pause.
"What's this?" I murmured, sitting up slowly. Then I noticed my shirt—it wasn't what I had on before, and it was on backward. "Why am I wearing a different shirt? And . . . why is it inside out?"
A voice startled me from across the room.
"Don't move too much. You're still recovering from your fever."
I whipped my head around, and there was Cole, sitting casually in the armchair by my bed, one leg crossed over the other, casually reading a newspaper.
He looked comfortable, almost like he belonged there—hair slightly damp, a clean white shirt, and soft gray joggers. It felt strange, as though I were the guest in my own room.
I clutched the blanket closer, suddenly self-conscious. "Y-you . . . what are you doing here?" I stammered, my mind still muddled from sleep and surprise.
Cole lowered the paper, meeting my gaze with a calm intensity that caught me off guard. His expression was gentler than I was used to, his eyes softened with a hint of concern I wasn't sure I'd ever seen before.
It was as if a part of him I didn't know had quietly surfaced. There was something in his gaze—something deeper—that I wasn't sure I was ready to find out what.
My heart fluttered under the weight of his steady gaze, and the question of my shirt slipped to the back of my mind.
"Remember?" he said, his tone reassuring. "I'm your bodyguard. I came when I noticed you hadn't shown up for school. Good thing I did—when I found you, you were lying on the floor."
"You . . . took care of me?" I managed, disbelief lacing my words.