Chapter 15 – I cant think of a Title for This Chapter so J*** off

Chapter 15 – I cant think of a chapter tittle so j*** off

[-Kizaki-]

A dull ache spread across my shoulders.

I groaned, shifting slightly, only for a sharp pang to shoot up my neck. My body felt stiff, as if I had been lying in an awkward position for too long.

I exhaled and blinked, letting my vision adjust to the dim light filtering through the curtains. The air was still cool from the early morning, the silence in the room undisturbed.

And then I noticed it.

Warmth.

Not just from the morning sunlight, but from the body nestled against mine.

Miya.

My breath hitched as I took in the sight before me. She was sleeping—her face relaxed, her breathing steady. Strands of her soft hair spilled across my arm, tickling my skin. Her long lashes rested gently against her cheeks, undisturbed by the way she had tucked herself into my embrace.

I didn't move.

Didn't even breathe for a second.

Instead, I just… looked at her.

She was beautiful.

Not in a glamorous, over-the-top way, but in the way that made my chest tighten—like something delicate and fleeting that I shouldn't disturb.

I knew Miya rarely looked this at peace. I had seen her quiet sorrow, the weight she carried in her heart, the hidden pain she never spoke about. But here, in this moment, there was none of that. Just her soft breathing, her warmth, the way she unconsciously trusted me enough to stay close.

And for some reason, I felt reluctant to move.

But this was dangerous.

Slowly, I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to focus. This isn't normal. We were friends. Close, yes. But this—this—was something else entirely.

My throat felt dry.

I had to wake her up.

I shifted slightly, trying not to startle her. "Miya." My voice came out low, careful.

She stirred.

A soft noise escaped her lips as she shifted, pressing herself closer for a second before—

Her forehead brushed against my collarbone.

I went completely still.

The faint scent of her hair filled my senses. I could feel the warmth of her breath against my skin.

And then, as if some delayed reaction hit, her body tensed.

Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep, looking up at me with an unfocused gaze.

Then—

A sharp intake of breath.

Her wide eyes locked onto mine as realization hit.

And in the next second, she scrambled away, nearly toppling off the couch.

"I-I—uh—" Miya stammered, her voice high-pitched with panic.

I pushed myself up, wincing as the stiffness in my shoulders protested. "You don't have to look like you just saw a ghost."

Her face turned an impressive shade of red. She clenched the hem of her sleeves, fingers gripping the fabric like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I—Sorry! I didn't—uh—mean to—"

I sighed, rolling my shoulders. "It's fine. It's not like either of us planned this."

Miya bit her lip, still visibly flustered. "…Still."

A silence settled between us.

An awkward, heavy silence.

It was strange. We had spent time together countless times before, but suddenly, this felt different.

Like something unspoken had settled between us.

I could still feel the lingering warmth where she had been. My fingers twitched involuntarily, as if missing something that had only just been there.

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to move past it. "Anyway, we should probably… wake up properly."

Miya quickly nodded. "Y-Yeah. I'll, um, make some coffee."

Without waiting for my response, she practically rushed toward the kitchen, her footsteps uneven.

I exhaled, rubbing my temple.

That was unexpected.

And yet… for some reason, a small part of me didn't regret it.

For some reason—

I felt happy.

[-Miya-]

I shut the bathroom door behind me, gripping the sink's edge as I stared at my reflection.

My face was burning.

Why did I wake up like that?

The moment I opened my eyes, all I saw was Kei. His arms around me, his warmth against my skin, the faint sound of his heartbeat in my ears.

And the worst part?

I didn't want to move.

I groaned, covering my face with my hands.

What was wrong with me?

I had spent years keeping my feelings for him under control, convincing myself that whatever we had was enough. But after last night—after holding hands under the fireworks, after falling asleep beside him—I wasn't so sure anymore.

My heart had never raced like this before.

Not even when I first realized I had feelings for Kei.

Because back then, I could still lie to myself.

But now?

Now I was waking up in his arms and enjoying it far too much.

I peeked between my fingers at my reflection, whispering to myself, "I told him I'd make coffee. Then why did I run in here instead?!"

It was instinct. The moment I saw his morning face—his disheveled hair, his drowsy eyes, the way his voice was rough from sleep—I had completely panicked.

And now I was hiding in the bathroom like some coward.

I let out a slow breath, gripping the sink tighter.

"Okay, Miya. Get it together."

It wasn't a big deal.

It was just an accident.

It wasn't like Kei was making a fuss over it. He had been calm—too calm, honestly.

Meanwhile, I was acting like some lovesick idiot who couldn't handle an accidental embrace.

I sighed, staring at my reflection again.

"…What even are we?"

The words left my lips before I could stop them.

The memory of last night flashed through my mind—the way he held my hand without hesitation, the way we walked together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

We never talked about it. Never defined it.

And yet…

My fingers curled slightly against the sink.

I wanted to know.

I wanted to ask.

But I couldn't.

Because if I asked, if I forced him to put it into words, what if he told me something I didn't want to hear?

What if he said, "We're just friends, Miya."

The thought alone made my chest tighten.

I shook my head, trying to clear my mind.

I can't ask. Not yet.

I forced my expression to relax, smoothing out the nerves in my face.

"Just act normal," I told my reflection. "Make coffee. Sit down. Don't overthink."

I nodded to myself, turning toward the door.

But the moment my hand touched the knob, I hesitated.

A thought crossed my mind—an irrational, silly thought.

If I had held on a little longer this morning—if I had let myself enjoy that warmth for just a few more minutes—

Would Kei have held on, too?

The question sat heavy in my heart as I finally stepped back into the apartment.

(-Kei-Kizaki]

I heard the bathroom door open before I saw her.

Miya stepped out, looking composed—too composed—as if she had spent the last ten minutes giving herself a pep talk.

She didn't look at me as she walked toward the kitchen, her movements stiff.

I watched her quietly for a moment before sighing.

I had to say something.

Even if I didn't know what.

Before I could figure it out, she spoke first. "I'll prepare breakfast," she murmured, her voice steady but distant.

I hesitated, then pushed myself off the couch, rolling my shoulders.

"I'll cook," I said.

Miya blinked, looking up at me in surprise. "Huh?"

I shrugged. "You made tea last night. It's my turn."

She opened her mouth as if to protest, then paused.

Finally, she exhaled and nodded. "…Alright."

I stepped beside her, reaching for the ingredients.

Even without looking at her directly, I could still feel the unspoken tension between us.

I wanted to say something.

I wanted to ask.

But for now—

For now, this was enough.