Hearts in Harmony

The night at New York Story bar was as noisy and chaotic as ever. No one paid attention to such a minor episode. The drunkards kept drinking, the dancers kept dancing, and the bar remained a place of indulgence and disorder.

Fanmuir, however, was feeling down.

Even though he had finally punished Orlando Brownie—the arrogant fool who had once thought himself untouchable—there was no sense of satisfaction, no thrill of revenge in his heart.

Was it because Helena had appeared alongside Orlando?

Or was it the sorrowful look in her eyes as she left?

Caroline, who always paid attention to Fanmuir's emotions, couldn't just stand by and ignore it.

At 11 PM, when Fanmuir finished his shift and was preparing to head back to campus, she called out to him.

Rough night? Come over to my place for a bit." she asked gently.

Fanmuir didn't hesitate. He nodded.

After briefly informing Delphina and the others, Caroline took Fanmuir's arm naturally, pressing close to him as they left the bar—just like a couple in the throes of early romance.

A truly intelligent woman always knows how to soothe a man's heart, and Caroline was exceptionally smart.

She didn't ask about what had happened earlier.

She simply leaned against him in silence and walked by his side, letting the night air wrap around them until they arrived at her villa.

Inside, Caroline slipped off her coat without hesitation, her movements effortless and natural.

Her figure, flawless and alluring, was now fully visible to Fanmuir.

"Make yourself comfortable," she said.

"I'll make you a cappuccino. Just wait a moment."

"Alright."

Fanmuir casually leaned back on the sofa.

But as a lifelong virgin, his eyes refused to obey him.

His gaze locked onto Caroline's swaying hips—the way her curves moved with every graceful step.

For someone like Fanmuir, who had barely experienced the ways of the world, the sight was an almost unbearable temptation.

Caroline, of course, felt his gaze.

She felt the heat in his eyes tracing every curve of her body.

And strangely, a thrill of excitement surged through her.

In that instant, she turned around, only to catch Fanmuir's smoldering stare directly.

Their eyes met.

For a moment, the room plunged into a thick silence, an intense and inescapable awkwardness hanging between them.

The stillness was suffocating.

So quiet that even Caroline's rapid, shallow breaths—enticing and delicate—were impossible to hide from Fanmuir's sharp ears.

In this deep night, alone together…

The only sound they could hear—

Was the rhythm of each other's breath.

Caroline had warned herself over and over again that the two of them shouldn't be together.

Yet, every time Fanmuir appeared before her, she couldn't help but act naturally—instinctively—always finding herself wanting to showcase her graceful and stunning figure in front of him.

"Have some cappuccino," she said, her voice as sweet and melodious as an oriole's song, carrying an indescribable allure in the quiet of the night.

"Mm," Fanmuir responded awkwardly, his eyes still betraying him, drawn uncontrollably to Caroline's flawless figure and face.

They sat in silence.

Time seemed to stop.

The sound of their quickened breaths lingered in the air, whispering the restlessness within them.

Neither of them wanted to break this ambiguous yet intoxicating atmosphere...

"I should go."

Fanmuir stood reluctantly, his voice gentle as he spoke to Caroline.

But then—

"Dance with me."

Caroline froze. Her face flushed crimson.

Oh my god, she thought.

She had meant to say, I'll walk you out.

Why on earth had that sentence slipped out instead?!

Was she just throwing fuel onto the fire?

Fanmuir never truly wanted to leave.

The warmth of being with Caroline, the quiet intimacy of the moment—even the fire that had stirred inside him just moments ago—made it painfully clear:

This woman, standing before him, captivated him.

Not just emotionally, but physically.

Delphina's question from earlier still echoed in his ears—

"Do you like her?"

And the moment he had decided to leave, Fanmuir finally understood:

Yes.

Yes, he did.

He had fallen for this beautiful, passionate, and irresistibly charming woman.

But love had arrived too suddenly, catching him off guard.

He needed time to process this overwhelming feeling—to figure out what it truly meant for him.

Yet, at that very moment, Caroline's quiet yet profound invitation shattered the last remnants of his reason and hesitation.

Before he could stop himself, the answer tumbled from his lips.

"Alright."

Of course, dancing required music.

Since Caroline usually lived alone, she had only set up a small DVD player and a speaker in her bedroom.

Now that she had already invited Fanmuir to dance, there was no turning back.

Blushing furiously, she led him to her room—for the first time in six years, bringing a man into her private space.

She switched on the bedside lamp.

The soft glow bathed the entire room in warmth.

Everything—from the furniture to the décor—was in delicate shades of pink, leaving no doubt that this was a woman's sanctuary.

The lingering scent of her perfume drifted in the air, wrapping around Fanmuir in an intoxicating embrace, stirring his senses.

Perhaps Caroline had never imagined a man would enter her bedroom one day.

At least, not so suddenly.

The bed was unmade, a heap of soft blankets piled haphazardly.

Scattered across the sheets were pieces of intimate clothing.

Under the dim light, they seemed to hold an air of mystery—seductive and alluring.

"Ah!"

Caroline gasped, her delicate hand flying to cover her lips.

Her cheeks flushed red as she scrambled to gather the clothing from the bed, her movements flustered and frantic.

Even with all his self-control, Fanmuir couldn't stop his breath from growing heavy.

His body burned with tension, desire tightening in his chest.

Yet, for once—

He didn't want to suppress it.

He wanted to revel in it.

Soft music began to play.

Caroline's delicate body pressed lightly against Fanmuir's, her arms draping around his neck.

His hands, drawn by instinct, settled gently on her slender waist.

But as the warmth of her body seeped through his skin, the fire within him flared—

Threatening to consume him.

Reason blurred.

Desire raged.

His grip tightened around her waist, pulling her closer.

The world outside no longer existed.

He wanted to sink into this moment.

To let himself drown.

The dim light cast shadows along the walls.

The slow, sensual rhythm of the music filled the air.

In the ambiguous darkness, they held each other—

Hearts pounding.

Hands trembling.

A war between restraint and longing waged inside them.

Neither wanted to break away, but neither dared to fully surrender.

Their hands would loosen, only to tighten again—

A silent battle of hesitation and temptation.

Fanmuir's face was flushed, his eyes burning with an intensity that sent shivers through Caroline's body.

A tender smile touched her lips.

She leaned in—

Placing the softest of kisses on his forehead.

Her fingers traced lightly over his firm chest—

Wandering, teasing, lingering.

At some point—

Neither of them knew when—

They had already fallen onto the bed.

And as the night deepened, the room was filled with breathless whispers and the lingering echoes of passion…

In the early morning, sunlight streamed through the window. Caroline lazily opened her beautiful eyes, only to find that the young man beside her was already gone. The lingering memories of last night's passion left her physically and mentally satisfied, a soft smile of happiness playing on her lips.

Lifting the blanket, she recalled how Fanmuir had indulged excessively, relentlessly demanding more. Her delicate face flushed as she murmured inwardly, "That scoundrel!"

Casually slipping on a silk robe, she walked downstairs to find a lavish French breakfast already laid out on the table.

Even though Fanmuir had intimately explored Caroline's smooth, delicate skin countless times the night before, seeing her now—relaxed, draped in a loose robe, with the thin silk barely concealing glimpses of her fair skin—ignited a fresh wave of desire in him.

"Haven't you had enough yet?" Caroline pouted, her soft voice carrying a hint of reproach. But there was no real anger in her eyes—only a touch of shyness.

Fanmuir, a celestial being untouched by mortal cravings, had no interest in the breakfast before him. Throughout the meal, his only focus was on Caroline's partially revealed skin, his gaze shamelessly fixed on her.

Caroline, of course, was well aware of the young man's lingering eyes, yet she found herself unable to summon any irritation. Instead, an undeniable sense of satisfaction and joy welled up within her.

"Still staring, you little pervert? Finish eating and get to class already!" Caroline playfully widened her eyes at him, exuding an irresistible charm. Rising from her seat, she reached out with her slender fingers to teasingly poke at Fanmuir, who was still seated, his gaze filled with unspoken desire.

But what she hadn't anticipated was that, as she stood up, her silk robe shifted ever so slightly, placing her directly within Fanmuir's reach...

Desire, once again, flared uncontrollably. And this time, Fanmuir had no intention of restraining himself. His strong hands reached out and—

A passion buried for a thousand years could hardly be quenched in a single night, especially when such pleasures only left one craving more…

Caroline, too, was completely immersed in the sweetness Fanmuir brought her. She was a rational woman and had repeatedly warned herself to end things as soon as possible. But the long-lost feeling of love and the rekindled flames of desire had ensnared her, making escape impossible…

For Fanmuir, every moment with Caroline was pure bliss. The intoxicating taste of love and forbidden pleasure left him utterly entranced, unable to resist wanting more.