The knock came just after noon. Nara was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, humming softly as she rinsed herbs under running water. She'd learned the quiet rhythms of Keigh's apartment over the past few days. The way the light hit the counters at midday, the hum of the refrigerator, the way the place felt less like a fortress and more like a home.
Keigh was on a call in the study when the security system chimed.
"I'll get it," Nara called out, wiping her hands on a towel.
She opened the door and blinked.
"Hellen?"
Her business partner smiled warmly, sunglasses perched on her head, a leather folder tucked under her arm.
"I see you're alive and well," she said dryly. "May I come in, or are you hiding royalty in here?"
Nara laughed, stepping aside. "Please. Before you make up theories."
Hellen's gaze flicked around the apartment, the understated luxury, the quiet security presence she could sense more than see. Her eyes softened when she looked back at Nara.
"You look settled," Hellen said.
Nara didn't answer right away because she felt it too. Keigh emerged moments later, polite, composed, but something in his eyes shifted when he saw Hellen. They sat and Hellen placed the folder on the table, fingers resting on it deliberately.
"We've received a formal invitation from the Royal Palace."
Nara's breath caught.
"To coordinate the upcoming royal ball," Hellen continued. "Full creative control, confidentiality clauses and extended stay."
Silence stretched and Keigh didn't look at Nara right away, but his jaw tightened, just slightly.
"This is huge," Nara whispered.
"It is," Hellen agreed. "And they specifically requested you."
That word settled somewhere deep in Nara's chest, equal parts pride and fear.
Keigh stood. "Accept it," he said calmly.
Nara looked at him. "You didn't even ask....."
"Because I know you," he replied. "And because this is your world."
Hellen watched them quietly, the unspoken tension, the careful distance, the way something real moved between them without being named.
"I'll give you two a moment," she said, rising. "I'll wait outside."
When the door closed behind her, the apartment felt different, heavier.
Keigh turned to Nara, his expression softer now. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."
"I do," she said immediately. Then, quieter, "I'm just… scared."
He nodded. "I know."
---
That evening came too quickly.
The city outside glowed amber and distant. Nara stood in her room, lost in thoughts that She didn't hear Keigh approach until he knocked lightly.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
She nodded.
He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. No guards, no pretense, just them.
"I won't see you for days," he said softly.
"And I didn't want to let tonight pass without saying something."
Nara swallowed. "About what?"
"About how these days have felt," he said. "About you."
Her heart thudded painfully.
"I didn't expect this," he continued. "I didn't plan for it. But having you here..." He paused, searching for words. "It changed the air in my life."
Her voice trembled. "Keigh…"
"I'm not asking you for anything," he said quickly. "No promises or labels. I just need you to know that what I feel isn't passing."
The space between them dissolved. She stepped closer, just one step, and he met her halfway. The kiss started slow and careful, like they were both afraid of breaking something fragile, then it deepened. His hands framed her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks, his mouth warm and intent.
Nara felt herself melting into him, breath hitching as the world narrowed to touch and sensation. She gasped softly when his lips trailed lower along her jaw, her neck, down to her collarbone then her 2 peaks. His hands followed, reverent, as though learning a language written only on her skin.
"Nara," he murmured, a warning and a plea all at once.
She didn't answer, only reached for him, fingers curling into his shirt. He kissed her slowly, deliberately, tracing warmth along her stomach, making her shiver, making her body respond in ways she'd never known. She trembled beneath his attention, soft sounds escaping her before she could stop them.
He stopped, not abruptly, but firmly. He rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard.
"If I don't stop now," he said quietly, "I won't be able to."
She looked up at him, cheeks flushed, eyes dark with sensation. "You look like you're having a hard time. I can help you. Let me."
"Your hand will do just fine." he hissed.
She hesitated, then he reached for her hand, grounding her, offering comfort rather than demand. The gesture was simple, intimate, unselfconscious.
"Let me," she whispered.
He closed his eyes, not in restraint this time, but trust. When it was over, he pulled her gently into his arms, holding her like something precious, something chosen, then took her to the bathroom and wiped her hands.
Later, they lay side by side, fully clothed now, the intensity softened into warmth. He stared at the ceiling, her head resting against his chest, her breathing slow and even. He had never felt this undone.
This wasn't desire alone, it was certainty. The kind that didn't roar, but settled, stayed.
She was leaving and somehow, that only sharpened his resolve. I will not lose her.
Nara traced idle patterns against his arm, feeling safe in a way that terrified her. She was falling harder than she'd ever fallen before, and yet for the first tim, she didn't want to run.
Outside, the city moved on.
Inside, two lives quietly, irrevocably shifted.