The change was small.
So small that anyone else wouldn't notice it.
But Smyle did.
Of course he did.
It started in the morning.
Nothing unusual.
Breakfast.
Coffee.
Rayden reading something on his tablet like always.
Smyle sat across from him, scrolling through his phone, half-awake.
Normal.
Then—
"Your collar."
Smyle looked up.
"What?"
Rayden stood.
Walked around the table.
And before Smyle could react—
His fingers brushed lightly against Smyle's neck.
Adjusting the collar.
Slow. Precise.
Too close.
Smyle froze.
"…I could've done that myself."
Rayden didn't step back immediately.
"I know."
Then why didn't you let me?
Smyle didn't say it.
But the question sat there.
Rayden stepped away like nothing happened.
Picked up his coffee.
"Finish your breakfast," he said calmly.
Like he hadn't just—
Smyle blinked.
"…You're getting weird."
Rayden didn't look up.
"You're observant."
"That wasn't normal."
Rayden finally met his eyes.
"It wasn't inappropriate either."
Smyle opened his mouth—
Closed it.
Because technically…
He wasn't wrong.
And that was annoying.
LATER — CAR RIDE
Smyle sat in the back seat, staring out the window.
Trying not to think about it.
He failed.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Why did that feel—
No. Stop.
It was nothing.
Just… habit.
Maybe.
Right?
The car slowed.
Smyle leaned forward slightly to grab his bag—
The car jerked just a little.
His balance shifted—
And—
A hand caught him.
At his waist.
Firm.
Steady.
Warm.
Smyle stilled instantly.
Rayden's hand remained there for half a second longer than necessary.
Then—
Gone.
"You should be more careful," Rayden said.
Like nothing happened.
Again.
Smyle sat back slowly.
"…You do that a lot now."
Rayden glanced at him.
"Do what?"
"Touch me like I'm about to fall apart."
Rayden's expression didn't change.
"You trip often."
Smyle stared at him.
"You're unbelievable."
Rayden smirked faintly.
EVENING — BUSINESS DINNER
This was different.
Louder.
More public.
More… calculated.
Smyle stood beside Rayden, dressed perfectly, playing his role.
Talking when needed.
Smiling when expected.
But his mind—
Wasn't focused.
Not tonight.
Because Rayden had been—
Different all day.
Subtle.
But constant.
And it was messing with him.
Badly.
"Mr. Black."
A woman approached.
Elegant. Beautiful.
Smyle noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
She smiled at Rayden.
And Rayden—
Smiled back.
Not fake.
Not forced.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
"It's been a while," she said.
"It has," Rayden replied.
Her hand lifted—
And before Smyle could process it—
She adjusted Rayden's tie.
Casual.
Natural.
Close.
Like she had done it before.
Something sharp twisted in Smyle's chest.
Unexpected.
Annoying.
Unwelcome.
He looked away instantly.
Why does that bother me?
It shouldn't.
It really shouldn't.
But it did. A lot.
They talked. Comfortably....Easily.
Like they knew each other well.
Smyle stayed quiet.
Too quiet.
Rayden noticed.
Of course he did.
But he didn't say anything.
AFTER DINNER
The car ride back was silent.
Heavy.
Different from before.
Smyle stared out the window again.
But this time—
He wasn't calm.
He was thinking too much.
Feeling too much.
Hating it.
"You're quiet," Rayden said finally.
Smyle shrugged.
"Tired."
"That's not it."
Smyle exhaled sharply.
"Do you let everyone fix your tie?"
The question slipped out before he could stop it.
Silence.
Then—
Rayden turned his head slowly.
"…What?"
Smyle didn't look at him.
"Just asking."
"No," Rayden said calmly. "I don't."
That made it worse.
Smyle scoffed lightly.
"Then she must be special."
There it was.
Rayden's lips curved slightly.
"You sound jealous."
Smyle turned instantly.
"I sound observant."
Rayden leaned back, watching him.
"Do you?"
"Yes."
"Then observe properly."
Smyle frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Rayden's gaze didn't leave him.
"She's engaged."
Smyle blinked.
"…Oh."
A pause.
Then—
"Oh."
Heat rushed to his face.
Shit.
Rayden's smirk deepened.
"Still observant?"
Smyle looked away immediately.
"Shut up."
"That wasn't very convincing."
"I said shut up."
Rayden chuckled softly.
And Smyle hated—
how that sound affected him.
THE SHIFT
The car stopped.
They stepped out.
Walked toward the entrance together.
Smyle tried to act normal.
Failed.
Because now he was hyper-aware.
Of everything.
The space between them.
The way Rayden walked slightly closer.
The way—
A hand found his wrist.
Briefly.
Guiding him inside.
Not tight.
Not controlling.
Just there.
Smyle's breath hitched.
"Stop doing that," he muttered.
Rayden didn't let go immediately.
"Doing what?"
"You know what."
Rayden released him slowly.
"I don't."
Liar.
Smyle glared at him.
"You're getting too comfortable."
Rayden stepped closer.
Close enough that Smyle had to look up.
"You didn't complain before."
The words were quiet.
But they landed.
Hard.
Smyle's heartbeat stuttered.
For a second—
Just a second—
He didn't have a comeback.
Didn't have sarcasm.
Didn't have control.
And that scared him.
So he stepped back.
"Go inside," he said quickly. "It's late."
Rayden watched him.
Longer than necessary.
Then nodded once.
Night — Alone
Smyle sat on his bed.
Staring at nothing.
Thinking about everything.
The collar.
The waist.
The wrist.
The tie.
The smirk.
The way his heart reacted.
"…This is bad," he whispered.
Because this wasn't part of the deal.
This wasn't strategy.
This wasn't acting.
This was something else.
Something he didn't name.
Didn't want to name. He picked up his pencil and sketchbook and started sketching so that his mind will feel free but before he even noticed he made such a fabulous drawing (as always) but this time it was not just about drawing because it was Rayden sipping coffee while sitting on his table.
Smyle noticed.
His face turned red and he closed the book in sec and his turned face red .
Across the hall~
Rayden stood by his window.
Looking out at the city.
But not seeing it.
Because for the first time—
He noticed something clearly.
Smyle reacted.
Not just physically.
Emotionally.
And that changed the game.
Completely.
Rayden exhaled slowly.
"…Interesting."
But Rayden was not sure what is was.. neither was Smyle but both felt that warmth in their heart.
Now something was shifting between them.
Something more softer. More in romantic side.