Zioh’s gaze pierced deeper, then he shook his head. His voice dropped lower. “I’m sorry if that hurt you.”
His sincerity weighed on me. My heart thundered the way it always did around him. That look of his unraveled me. “You can be informal or formal with me, Tshabina,” he continued, his voice husky. His fists clenched at his sides. “You can choose. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
I blinked, swallowing hard as I tried to absorb his words, only to be swept away by the resolve and sincerity woven into them. His voice, his scent, and the confined space of the lift brought me back to that night in his shower. The memory of his touch returned to my skin, his scent filling my senses until the moment felt real again—rekindling that same burning, intoxicating sensation. Back then, he had offered to drive me home afterwards, and he called me the next day.
But… I had pulled away.
It had been reflex, as if my brain tried to shut down before it could hurt. Because everything was still gray, and it would remain so until Zioh chose to speak, to open himself up to me.
After leaving his penthouse, I kept questioning if this was a phase. I found myself constantly waiting, perpetually guessing when his black phase would return.
No matter how I tried to hide it, my feelings hadn’t changed. I was still Tshabina, his Sophie; that was why I waited, as I had said. But now I had grown. My feelings were more than simple affection. I had to guard myself, or risk being lost again.
I would do my best to keep waiting in this darkness, waiting for Zioh to talk and explain so I could decide what we were.
Clearing my throat, I looked away to hide my breath that came too fast.
Zioh sighed, as if he could sense my unease. His voice rasped low. “Will you go home with me after the press conference?”
I turned to him, my eyes widened.
He leaned in, bringing his face closer to mine. “Will you?” He repeated, low and hoarse.
“I—” My lips trembled as his face came to rest just inches from mine.
“Hm?” He locked my gaze, leaving me unable to look anywhere else.
The air became thick, and I gulped. “I-I was planning to go with Bibu—”
He gave me a slight smile, leaning closer and closer until his nose brushed mine, pulling the breath from my lungs. “Golden can come too,” he whispered.
“Zioh—”
“Yes?” He tilted his face, left to right, checking each part of my face one by one.
Thump. Thump. Thump.My heart hammered against my ribs, threatening to burst. “I have to—”
“You have to?” His eyes returned to meet mine again, lingering. He tilted his head toward the curve of my neck, inhaling a long, deep breath.
“Hhh…” My hair stood on end, and I shook my head. “I-I mean, I should—”
Ding.
The lift chimed, and the doors slid open to reveal the hall. Without hesitation, Zioh smiled and brushed my cheek before striding out first, leaving me rooted in place behind him.
“Can I take it as a yes?” he threw over his shoulder, grinned.
I let out a shaky breath. Was I just tricked into agreeing?
Wait—Tsabinu didn’t even know about us, about how close we’d grown again lately. I hadn’t agreed to anything, and yet—
Flustered, I hurried out of the lift, trying to catch up with his long strides. He paused to hand the drinks to a passing security guard, then turned back to me.
“I have to go for a bit,” he said, glancing away, then back at me. “After the press conference, straight to the parking lot. My car’s in the VIP section.”
Before I could speak, he gave his damn smile again, then walked off. He was talking into his AirPods, but his expression was sharp and tense. It changed in an instant, like flipping a switch.
By the way…
