Vincent’s voice echoed through the quiet hallway, stopping Akisuki in her tracks.

"Stay."

She froze, her hand resting on the sleek chrome door handle. Turning her head slightly, her calm yet cautious gaze met his. His grey eyes, sharp and commanding, softened ever so slightly as he walked toward her. Each step deliberate, each step pulling her back into his orbit.

"Mr. Carter—" Akisuki began, but Vincent raised a hand close to his mouth, his forefinger on his peachy lips, silencing her without a word.

He stopped a breath away from her, his tall frame towering over her petite one. The air between them thickened with unspoken tension, a current of something both magnetic and dangerous.

"You keep running," Vincent said, his voice low and steady, yet there was an undercurrent of something primal beneath it. "We have rules, Akisuki, and one of them is honesty. So tell me, are you running from me… or from yourself?"

Akisuki’s fingers tightened on the door handle. She wasn’t used to being cornered — metaphorically or otherwise. Composure had always been her armor, but Vincent had a way of peeling back layers she didn’t even know she had.

"Running?" she echoed, forcing her voice to remain steady. "I wasn’t aware walking to my desk qualified as ‘running'."

A ghost of a smirk played on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He stepped closer, his presence engulfing her. Akisuki took a step back, only for her spine to press against the cool surface of the glass wall.

Vincent leaned down, his hand resting on the wall beside her head, trapping her without laying a finger on her. His scent — whiskey-vanilla and something distinctly him — wrapped around her, making her pulse race.

"I don’t want you to leave," he murmured.

Her breath hitched. There was a rawness in his tone, an edge of vulnerability that was entirely unexpected.

"This isn’t appropriate," she managed to say, her voice a whisper. "You said it yourself — there are rules."

Vincent tilted his head, his gaze dropping to her lips. "Rule three," he reminded her the rule she made, his tone darkly amused. "Intimacy is allowed. Privately."

Akisuki’s eyes widened behind her thin-rimmed glasses. Before she could respond, Vincent’s hands found her waist. The touch was firm yet gentle, his fingers splaying across the fabric of her crisp white shirt as if testing her boundaries. He pulled her closer, his chest brushing hers.

"Don’t," she said softly, her voice trembling as much as her resolve.

But her hands betrayed her. Instead of pushing him away, they rested on his chest, her fingertips grazing the smooth fabric of his tailored suit. The warmth of his body seeped into her palms, unsettling in its comfort.

Vincent’s lips hovered just above hers, close enough for her to feel the faint heat of his cherry-vanilla breath. His gaze locked onto hers, searching for something she wasn’t sure she could give.

"Akisuki…" he murmured, her name rolling off his tongue like a forbidden promise.

Her lips parted, not in invitation but in sheer disbelief that this was happening. He leaned in, brushing his lips faintly against hers, a fleeting touch that sent a jolt of electricity down her spine.

It wasn’t a kiss — it was the ghost of one. A whisper of what could be, not what was.

Akisuki’s heart thundered in her chest as reality slammed into her. With a sharp inhale, she pushed against his chest, creating a space between them.

"I can’t," she said, her voice barely audible. Her hands trembled against him before she let them fall to her sides.

Vincent straightened, his expression unreadable as he studied her. For a moment, he said nothing, the silence stretching between them like an unbridgeable chasm.

Finally, he nodded, stepping back to give her space. His hands fell from her waist, but the absence of his touch was almost as overwhelming as its presence had been.

"You’re not ready," he said simply. There was no accusation in his tone, only understanding.

Akisuki looked up at him, her eyes shining with a mix of gratitude and something else — something she didn’t dare to name. "Thank you," she whispered.

Vincent’s lips quirked into a small, almost rueful smile. "Don’t thank me," he said, his voice low and gruff. "This isn’t over, Akisuki. Not by a long shot."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, breathless and shaken.

As she pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her racing heart, one thought echoed in her mind.

This wasn’t just about rules anymore.

This was about survival.

— 🍁 —

Akisuki lay sprawled on her bed, her laptop propped up on a pillow. The dim lighting of her apartment cast a warm glow across her room, highlighting the soft, pastel tones of her decor.

On her screen, Siwoo was propped up on one elbow in the plush confines of his bedroom, the faint sound of him crunching on fruit breaking the silence.

She sighed, taking off her glasses and rubbing her temples as the tension of the day lingered. The video call had started with light chatter, but now there was nothing but quiet, save for Siwoo’s casual snacking.

Akisuki huffed, finally breaking the silence. "Are you just going to sit there and chew? I could’ve called a cow for this level of conversation."

Siwoo raised an eyebrow, popping another piece of apple into his mouth. "I’m thinking," he replied, his voice calm as ever.

"About what?" she pressed, folding her arms across her chest.

"You," he said bluntly, wiping his fingers with a tissue.

The word hit her like a dart, and her face flushed. She fumbled for a moment, tucking a strand of her raven hair behind her ear. "W-What about me?"

Siwoo leaned back against his headboard, his sharp, perceptive eyes fixed on her. "About how you might’ve just emotionally dropkicked Vincent Carter into another dimension today."

Akisuki groaned loudly, slamming her head back onto the pillow. "Don’t remind me! Ugh, I was so fucking stupid. Why did I push him away like that? He was—" She stopped herself, the rosy hue on her cheeks darkening.

"Go on," Siwoo teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "He was what?"

"Nothing!" she snapped, grabbing the nearest pillow and burying her face in it. Her muffled voice emerged seconds later. "Why does this shit have to be so complicated?"

Siwoo chuckled softly. "Because you made it complicated, girlie pop. You’re the one who signed up for this fucking fake marriage nonsense. And now you’re over there playing hard to get with a guy who’s clearly into you."

Akisuki sat up abruptly, the pillow still clutched to her chest like a shield. "He’s not into me," she argued. "We have rules! No falling in love, remember?"

Siwoo shrugged, reaching for another slice of fruit. "Rules are made to be broken, especially when feelings get involved."

Akisuki’s jaw dropped. "You’re supposed to be on my side!"

"I am on your side," Siwoo said matter-of-factly. "And from where I’m sitting, your side looks like a total dumpster fire right now."

She let out an exaggerated groan, flopping back onto the bed and flailing her arms dramatically. "I hate this. I hate him. I hate you for making sense!"

Siwoo laughed at her theatrics, shaking his head. "You don’t hate anyone, Aki-ya. You’re just scared."

Her movements stilled, and for a moment, the room fell quiet again. "I don’t know what I’m doing, Siwoo-ya," she admitted softly. "I’ve always had control over my life, but this… this is chaos. He’s chaos."

"That’s love for you," Siwoo said with a knowing smirk.

"It’s not love!" she shot back, sitting up again to glare at him.

He shrugged again, completely unbothered. "Whatever you say."

Akisuki grabbed her pillow and smacked it repeatedly, her frustration pouring out with each swing. "Why does this man have to be so — so fucking infuriating?" she cried, punctuating her words with hits.

Siwoo watched her with mild amusement, finishing the last of his fruit. "Feel better now?"

"No," she growled like some possessed nun, flopping back down and tossing the pillow aside.

"Well, here’s what you’re going to do," Siwoo said, sitting up straighter. "You’re going to suck it up, march back to him, and make it up somehow. You’re getting married to him, remember? The least you can do is try to smooth things over."

He was very much against this arrangement, not liking how this whole thing was going to end up like. This relationship was built on a lie and would continue with more lies. Siwoo knew Akisuki had agreed to this contract just for fun — but marriage was no fun and games until their families would get involved.

Akisuki groaned again, dragging her hands down her face. "Why are you so good at giving advice when you’ve never even been in a relationship?"

"Some people are born to lead, others to follow," he quipped with a grin.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto her face. "You’re insufferable."

"And you’re stubborn," Siwoo shot back. "Now go to sleep, princess. You’ve got a big day of damage control tomorrow."

Akisuki sighed, closing her laptop and staring up at the ceiling. Siwoo was right. She couldn’t avoid Vincent forever, and she certainly couldn’t let today’s mess fester any longer.

What was he doing to her?

But as she drifted off to sleep, one thought lingered in her mind.

How was she supposed to keep her distance when he was already so dangerously close?