Yuki unlocked the door, stepping inside first and watching him follow. There was a brief pause as his eyes swept over the interior—just a normal house, cozy and quiet.
She bent down to slip off her shoes, and as she did, she felt his gaze linger. The thought of his eyes on her sent a warm shiver down her spine. She took a breath, steadying herself.
"You can leave your shoes here," she said, her voice steady.
Oliver followed her in, and Yuki gestured toward the living room. "You can sit over there."
He nodded, settling on the couch as Yuki disappeared into the kitchen. Her hands shook slightly as she poured hot water into the teapot, her mind running in circles. She could hear him shifting on the couch, the small sounds making her pulse quicken.
Just tell him. Just say it.
She exhaled sharply, gathering the cups of tea before walking back into the living room. He looked up as she approached, his gaze casual—but there was something in it. Something she couldn't quite read.
She sat down a little closer than before, the warmth of her body just within reach.
They were silent for a moment, the soft sound of the wind outside the only noise.
Yuki wrapped her hands around her cup, grounding herself with the warmth.
"Thank you for walking with me, senpai," she said, her voice quiet but firm.
Oliver gave a small nod. "No problem."
Her fingers tightened around the cup, but she didn't look away from him. She wasn't sure how to continue, but the words were burning inside her, ready to spill out.
"Oliver," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think… I think I like you. More than just a friend. More than just a senpai."
Her breath hitched as she pushed through the words, her heart racing in her chest.
"I've been trying to find the right time to say it, but I don't think I can wait any longer."
The room seemed to close in around her, the silence hanging between them, suffocating. She wasn't sure how long they stared at each other, but the seconds felt like hours.
Finally, Oliver exhaled and leaned back, his gaze shifting to something far off in the distance. "Huh."
It wasn't the rejection she feared. But it wasn't the acceptance she had hoped for, either.
Her stomach twisted.
She had imagined this moment so many times—played it out in her head. Sometimes he would smile, pulling her into his arms. Sometimes he would be serious, telling her he felt the same way.
But this… this wasn't what she expected.
The silence stretched, heavy, uncomfortable.
"I mean it," she said, her voice quieter, but firm.
Oliver tilted his head, studying her. Something flickered in his eyes—amusement? Curiosity? It was gone too quickly to be sure.
Then, slowly, he leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Yuki's breath caught as his fingers brushed over her chin, tilting her face up just slightly.
His voice was quieter now, laced with something darker, heavier. "You sure about that?"
Yuki swallowed hard. She wasn't sure about much anymore. But one thing was certain.
"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't," she whispered.
Oliver's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Alright then."
And then he kissed her.
Yuki's breath hitched as Oliver's lips pressed against hers—rough and demanding. His grip tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him, his warmth bleeding into her skin. There was nothing tender about his touch—it was all hunger, all need.
She knew it wasn't love. Knew this wasn't the fairy tale confession she had once imagined. But right now, that didn't matter. Right now, she was in his arms, and that was enough.
Oliver barely thought beyond the fire burning through his veins. He wasn't looking for meaning, wasn't searching for connection. He just wanted this—wanted to lose himself in the heat of her body, in the mind-numbing pleasure that came with it.
His hands roamed her form, feeling the way she shivered under his touch, the way her breath trembled against his lips. She melted against him, yielding without hesitation, her fingers tangling into his hair, pulling him closer.
Then something strange happened.
As his lips traced a path down her neck, a subtle shift stirred deep within him. A pulse, a ripple—something in his core stirring to life. It was faint at first, barely noticeable, but as their bodies pressed together, the sensation grew.
What is this…?
It was like the first time he had smoked—like the way the Qi had seeped into his body, thick and intoxicating. But this was different. This wasn't external energy filtering in. This was something raw, something potent flowing between them, as if her very essence was feeding into his.
His hands gripped her tighter as he focused on it, on the strange warmth coiling through his meridians. It wasn't just pleasure—there was power in this, a slow-burning energy bleeding into his Qi pathways, making his dantian hum with something alive.
Yuki gasped softly as he shifted, his movements becoming slower, more deliberate. She felt it too—not the Qi, not the cultivation aspect, but something deeper. A pull, a gravity between them that sent shivers down her spine.
"Oliver…" she whispered, her voice breathless, uncertain.
Yuki's school uniform was slightly rumpled now, her blue blazer slightly askew, her blouse untucked from her skirt, exposing a sliver of pale skin.
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
He should stop.
The thought came and went, a flicker of logic buried beneath the haze of need.
But he didn't stop.
His hand slipped beneath her blouse, fingertips skimming over warm, smooth skin. Yuki shivered but didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her breath warm against his neck, her fingers gripping the front of his sweater.
She wasn't just letting this happen.
She wanted this.
And that realization sent a sharp thrill through him, tangled somewhere between satisfaction and something deeper—something he didn't want to name.
Yuki's heart pounded as Oliver shifted, pressing her back against the couch. The world blurred around her, shrinking down to the weight of his body over hers, the heat of his breath against her skin.
She had dreamed of this moment. Fantasized about it in quiet, stolen thoughts. But she had never expected it to be like this—so intense, so overwhelming.
Her fingers trembled as she reached up, cupping his face. "Oliver…"
He paused, just for a second.
Her chest tightened. Would he stop? Would he leave her like this, on the edge of something she wasn't sure she could pull back from?
Oliver's hands worked expertly, undoing the buttons on her blouse. With a deliberate movement, he tugged the navy blazer from her shoulders and tossed it aside, leaving her in just her blouse and skirt.
Then his lips brushed against her jaw, trailing lower. His hands moved with quiet certainty, unfastening the buttons of her blouse one by one.
She shivered as cool air met her skin, her pulse quickening.
No turning back now.
And she didn't want to.
She let herself fall.
Let herself give in.
Because even if it wasn't love…
Even if this was just a fleeting moment…
At least, for today, she could pretend it was real.