Three days had slipped by since the night at the club — the night everything between Zhane and Celine had shifted from fragile friendship to something deeper, something they still didn't know how to name.
They had agreed, wordlessly, to keep it secret from the world. Or maybe the world simply didn't deserve to know yet.
Their new relationship was… strange. Soft. Awkward. Beautiful in a way neither understood.
Sometimes, Celine would stare at Zhane during breakfast, trying to read him, trying to understand the quiet boy who had suddenly become the one person capable of steadying her trembling heart.
And Zhane, in his own stiff, awkward way, tried to act normal — only to look away every few minutes because his chest wouldn't stop tightening whenever she smiled at him.
They would walk through the garden together when one of them was bored. They spoke more — small things, random memories, meaningless jokes that somehow meant everything.
But the silence between them still lingered sometimes. Not uncomfortable… just new.
Today, boredom found Celine first.
She sat cross-legged on her bed, flipping through her phone, scrolling, scrolling, until even the bright screen failed to distract her. She tossed the phone aside and fell back onto the pillows with a groan.
"I can't keep lying here like a dying plant," she muttered.
Her eyes drifted to the hallway.
Zhane was still asleep — or at least, still pretending to sleep in that disciplined way of his.
He always woke early, always neat, always composed.
Too composed.
A slow smile tugged at her lips.
A prank wouldn't hurt, right?
Her mind raced through possibilities. Water bucket? Too cliché. Jump scare? He might actually strike her by reflex. Drawing on his face? Impossible — the boy slept like he was guarding an invisible perimeter.
Then… her eyes suddenly gleamed.
A wickedly sweet idea sprouted in her head.
She slid off her bed, smoothing her hair automatically, her eyes sparkling like someone planning a crime. "This is perfect."
Padding softly through the quiet hallway, she approached Zhane's door. She pressed her ear against it.
Silence.
Good.
She turned the knob gently, opening the door just enough to slip inside. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting warm stripes across the room. Zhane slept on his side, breathing evenly, unaware of the chaos approaching him in stealthy footsteps.
Celine stood there for a moment, watching him.
In sleep, he looked softer — but still tense, like his body refused to completely surrender. She wondered, not for the first time, what kind of nights he had endured growing up with an uncle who barely treated him like family.
Her smile softened for a heartbeat.
Then the mischievous spark returned.
"Sorry, Zhane," she whispered, "but you're too composed for your own good."
Carefully, she slipped past the bed and into his bathroom. The tiles were cool beneath her socks. She moved quickly, efficiently, her steps silent. When she finished, she stepped back to admire her handiwork.
Perfect.
This was going to be good.
She tiptoed out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. Zhane shifted in his sleep, and she froze—heart hammering—before relaxing when he settled again.
"Whew… that was close," she whispered under her breath.
With a triumphant grin, she quietly closed his door behind her, pressing her back against it once she was in the hallway. The adrenaline buzzed through her veins, and she had to bite back a laugh.
She walked away with a spring in her step, her smile stretching from ear to ear.
She felt alive again. Light. Almost childish.
It had been so long since she last played a prank on anyone. Cathy and Cindy used to be her partners in crime… the memory stung, but today, instead of weighing her down, it nudged her toward warmth.
"Zhane will survive it," she murmured, gently touching her lips as memories of their kiss flickered through her mind.
Her cheeks warmed.
"He'll definitely scold me… but it'll be worth it."
She headed toward the kitchen, humming softly to herself. She pulled out a carton of juice, poured some into a glass, and leaned on the counter, waiting.
Any minute now.
She tapped her nails lightly, impatiently, tilting her head toward the distant hallway that led to Zhane's room. She pictured him waking, stretching, dragging himself to the bathroom for his usual cold shower—
Her grin widened.
She almost giggled.
Minutes passed. She checked the time.
Still nothing.
"Is he seriously sleeping through this?" she whispered.
She paced a little, then sat at the dining table, chin resting on her hands, staring at the hallway like a hunter waiting for the perfect moment.
Then—
A faint sound.
A muffled thump.
Followed by silence.
Celine straightened, her eyes shining. "Oh… he's awake."
A small, wickedly satisfied smile curved her lips.
Whatever expression was on his face right now…
Confusion? Shock?
Maybe horror?
She wished she had installed a camera.
But she would see it soon enough.
She leaned back in her chair, swirling the juice in her glass, waiting for him to come down and confront her. She could already imagine the way he'd narrow his eyes, the way he'd say her name with that low, warning tone.
She stifled another giggle.
Let him come.
After a few minutes passed and no sign of Zhane , she stood up and walked towards his room , her phone in hand
★★
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Celine was barely holding in her laughter as she stood behind the bathroom door, phone in hand, recording from just the right angle. He'd been humming, freshly out of the shower, towel hanging low on his hips, reaching for his usual can of shaving cream.
He pressed the nozzle.
Pfft.
Nothing.
Another press.
Splurt.
Bright pink foam shot out—sparkly, fruity-scented, and definitely not his usual brand.
He froze.
Celine stifled a giggle.
He turned slowly to the mirror, stared at the bubblegum mess on his cheek, then called out, after he sensed her presence "Babe... what the hell is this?!"
Celine peeked in, trying to keep a straight face. "Limited edition. Thought you'd like to smell like strawberries and glitter today."
He stared at Celine, then at the can. "You replaced my shaving cream with whipped body mousse?"
"It's moisturizing," She shrugged innocently.
A pause. Then he stepped toward her, foam still on his face. "You realize this means war."
Celine ran, laughing down the hall as he chased after her—sparkles and all. He caught her by the waist just as she rounded the corner into the bedroom, both of them breathless from laughter. She squealed as he pinned her gently against the wall, pink foam now smeared across his jawline and collarbone.
"Oh, you think you're funny?" he said, eyes narrowing, voice low but playful.
Celine smirked up at him, barely containing another giggle. "I think I'm hilarious."
He leaned closer, brushing his nose against hers, his hand still firm at your waist. "You know what's hilarious? Payback."
Before she could react, he smeared a streak of glittery foam across her cheek.
Celine gasped. "You wouldn't dare."
He grinned. "Too late."
In seconds, they were wrestling playfully on the bed, both of them covered in scented mousse and laughter. The room smelled like a candy store explosion, Celine's hair had foam in it, and Zhane's towel was dangerously close to betraying him.
He paused above her, breathing heavy, eyes darkening just a little. "You started this."
She looked up at him, cheeks flushed, smile softening. "And I'd do it again."
His expression shifted—less playful, more intense. "Next time… I'll choose the punishment."
He leaned down, lips brushing hers lightly before deepening the kiss, slow and teasing, the tension melting into something heavier.
The kiss deepened for a moment, his body pressed warm and close against hers, the scent of strawberries still lingering between them.
Celine tangled her fingers in his damp hair, heart racing as he kissed her like he forgot the whole world existed.
Then—splat.
Her hand, still sticky with the foam, slid right up his cheek and into his hair.
He froze mid-kiss, pulling back just enough to stare at her.
"You didn't," he said, voice low with disbelief.
She grinned like a troublemaker. "I did."
He sat back on his heels, inspecting the glitter-covered mess now decorating his hair. "You're out of control."
You shrugged. "I'm your girlfriend. Comes with the package."
The atmosphere got frozen for a moment
Zhane shook his head, wiping foam from his neck. "You know what this means, right?"
"I get ice cream?"
"No," he said, standing slowly, eyes narrowing with mischief. "It means you're showering—now—and I'm joining you. With cold water. Revenge is best served freezing."
Celine bolted off the bed with a shriek, laughing all the way to the bathroom as he chased her, towel barely hanging on.
************
Celine stood at the bathroom sink, cheeks warm as she tried—and failed—to smother the giggles bubbling out of her. The tub behind her was already filling, steam coiling lazily into the air. She'd barely begun to lift the hem of her shirt when she heard a soft thud.
A towel hitting the floor.
She froze. Slowly, she turned.
And there he was—Zhane, standing bare under the soft bathroom light, water-gray eyes steady, posture relaxed as though nudity was simply another outfit he'd chosen for the day.
Her breath tripped.
She'd seen him shirtless before… but this was different. His skin gathered the glow of the room and carved it across the ridges of his abs, the hard lines of his chest, the quiet power in his shoulders. His body was all lean discipline and effortless strength—an image she wasn't prepared for.
Her gaze betrayed her before she could stop it.
It dipped lower.
And lower—
Her thoughts scattered so violently she forced her head away, blinking fast, as though her eyelashes could sweep the image out of her mind.
Zhane stepped into the steaming tub with calm confidence, the warm water rising around him, softening the edges of his muscles but not their impact. He leaned back, arms hooked over the rim, droplets sliding down his chest like they'd been choreographed just to torment her.
"Well?" he asked, one eyebrow arched, a slow smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. "You started this. Don't turn shy on me now."
Her fingers tightened around her shirt.
"I… wasn't expecting full nudity. Immediately."
He let out a low laugh. "We're dating, Celine. Besides… you've seen enough to survive this."
His tone wasn't cocky—it was warm. Playful. Intimate.
Dangerous.
"And if you don't get in," he added, eyes narrowing with mock threat, "I'll come drag you in myself."
She eyed him, he wasn't bluffing.
Still flustered, she began undressing slowly, deliberately avoiding the direct burn of his gaze. But she felt it every second—roaming, curious, unhurried. By the time she stepped into the tub and settled opposite him, knees brushing under the water, his teasing smile had softened into something deeper… something that curled warmth through her chest.
"See?" he murmured, finding her hand beneath the surface and curling his fingers around hers. "Not so scary."
Celine didn't trust her voice.
So she did the next best thing.
She splashed water straight into his face.
Zhane froze, then blinked.
"…Oh," he said quietly. "You're in trouble now."
The tension shifted—still warm, still charged, but now threaded with laughter waiting to spill over. Water rippled around them as he leaned forward a little, eyes locked on hers, something slow and magnetic settling between them.
Celine bit her lip unintentionally, pulse racing. The prank had been silly, harmless… but now, soaked in heat and steam, with his hand still holding hers under the water, she felt the moment tilt into something more fragile. More real.
What did she want from this?
To move closer?
To trust him with the parts of herself she didn't show anyone?
To let whatever was happening between them become… something?
Zhane brushed his thumb gently against her fingers, drawing her attention back to him.
"Celine," he said quietly, voice low and warm, "if you keep looking at me like that… I won't be able to pretend this is just a bath."
Her breath hitched.
Her cheeks grew hotter.
And suddenly, the prank felt like the smallest part of what was happening between them.
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