Page 47

No.

Absolutely not. Delete that. Immediately.

He’s nobody’s anything.

Especially not mine.

I drag a hand over my face and look away, but somehow my eyes keep finding their way back to him.

I don’t understand why he keeps chasing after me.

I always assume it’s a game. He likes getting under my skin, and I like pretending he can’t. He would provoke me, I’d provoke him back, and we’d keep circling each other until one of us got bored.

Except neither of us seems to be getting bored.

And lately, he’s been pulling reactions out of me that I don’t want.

That’s the problem. I feel like Kento is going to ruin me.

Actually, that’s giving him too much credit.

I’m already ruined.

But he has this horrible talent for finding whatever parts of me are still intact and putting his fingers directly into the cracks.

After a moment, I lean forward and rest my elbows against my knees. He looks so fucking perfect lying there that it annoys me. Everything about him is unfairly put together, from the shape of his mouth to the stupid softness of his hair. Even unconscious, he looks like someone designed him specifically to piss me off.

My gaze drops to his face again.

Before I can think better of it, I reach out, and my fingers brush against his cheek.

He is warm.

What the fuck am I doing?

I stare at my hand before curling it into a fist.

I have no right to touch him like that.

Worse, I shouldn’t want to.

I sink back into the chair and stare at the ceiling, trying to convince myself that the strange ache in my chest is nothing more than exhaustion.

But it isn’t.

It’s the fact that somehow, without asking permission, Kento has made himself important enough that I couldn’t let him die.

And I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do with that.

Kento

When I open my eyes, I realize I’m on a couch.

The last thing I remember is kissing Ilya, which means waking up here is objectively disappointing. I would like to return to the previous situation immediately.

I sit up too fast, and the movement tears a line of heat through my side, but not enough to stop me. The room comes into focus in fragments.

The first things I notice are the tools.