Chapter 0.147 Kiss

Behind the closed door of the karaoke room and silence fell again like velvet between them. Only the muffled beat of a distant song and the hum of the night air beyond the window gave the room any rhythm. Rena could still feel it—his lips on hers, soft and slow, like a promise she never asked for but couldn't stop tasting.

She hadn't meant to kiss him.

No—scratch that. She hadn't meant to *like* it.

And yet… here she was, seated across from her husband, with her fingers still trembling slightly from the way she had clutched his shirt. Her lips were warm. Her heart was misbehaving.

Across from her, Jin lounged back on the plush sofa like the devil after a job well done—his crimson eyes half-lidded with amusement, his shirt half-unbuttoned thanks to her reckless hands, and his mouth curved in that smug, infuriating smile she was starting to dream about at night.

Rena looked away. Her face was burning.

**"You're awfully quiet, my dear,"** he said, voice a slow, teasing drawl. **"Was it… that good?"**

She whipped her head toward him, eyes wide. "No! I mean—it was—no, it wasn't anything!" Her voice cracked halfway through the denial, only making it worse.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his long black coat falling open just slightly. The silver buttons of his shirt gleamed like provocation. **"It sure looked like something."**

She hated how he could look so composed while she was unraveling thread by thread.

**"Ugh,"** she groaned, burying her face in her hands for a moment, then muttered through her fingers, **"Why are you like this, Jien?"**

He smiled again—of course he did—and leaned closer, close enough that she could smell the faint trace of his cologne: something cold and clean, like night air and danger.

**"Because you're fun to unravel,"** he whispered.

Her breath caught.

He wasn't even trying anymore. Or maybe he was, and that's what made it worse. He wasn't pushing. He wasn't demanding. He was *offering*, in his own twisted, teasing way, and letting her decide just how far she'd fall.

And Rena… had already fallen more than she wanted to admit.

She glanced down at his chest, still partially exposed, porcelain-pale and unfairly perfect. Her fingertips itched, remembering the warmth of his skin, the way he hadn't stopped her—hadn't encouraged her either—just let her explore. That silence, that stillness… it had made everything feel ten times more intimate.

**He let me do what I wanted.**

And that made her want to do more.

She clenched her fists in her lap, her face glowing redder by the second. Why was he always like this? Why did his silence speak louder than any flirtation? Why did the fact that he *never asked* make her want to give him everything?

She glanced at the clock.

Still an hour left.

Her golden eyes flicked back to him. He was watching her, of course, lounging like a prince of trouble. His lashes were long. His lips curved, faintly wet from their last kiss.

Her stomach twisted with something low and molten.

"You..." she said slowly, brushing back a strand of her flaming red hair. "You're really impossible, you know that?"

**"Oh, absolutely,"** he said with zero shame.

"I should slap you again," she muttered, standing and moving toward him.

**"You should,"** he said. "But you won't."

She stood in front of him now, arms crossed, trying to steady her breath. "Why won't I?"

He met her gaze—steady, intense, and maddening. **"Because you're still thinking about my lips."**

Her mouth opened. No sound came out.

She hated him.

She also wanted to kiss him again.

Instead, she dropped onto the couch beside him—closer this time. Close enough to feel his warmth seeping into her skin. He didn't move. He didn't comment. He just... waited.

She looked down at her hands, then up at him. Her voice, when it came, was quieter than she expected.

**"You taste like strawberries,"** she murmured.

Jin blinked. "What?"

Rena blinked too. *Did I really just say that out loud?*

"No—I mean—not really," she said quickly, flustered. "Just... something about you. Maybe your mana. It's weird."

He chuckled. "My mana tastes like fruit. I'll add that to my resume."

She groaned and covered her face again. "Kill me."

"I'd rather not. I haven't kissed my wife nearly enough tonight."

He reached out, gently tugging one of her hands away from her face. Their fingers locked. Her breath caught.

And then he said it—softly, almost as if he wasn't sure he should.

**"You know, Rena… I could fall for you."**

Her heart slammed in her chest.

That wasn't fair.

She stared at him, golden eyes wide, searching his expression for sarcasm. But it wasn't there. Just the faintest hint of vulnerability beneath all the usual arrogance.

It hit her harder than anything else he'd said tonight.

She didn't know what to say. So she said nothing.

Instead, slowly—nervously—she leaned in and kissed him again. No teasing. No arguments. Just lips on lips, slow and lingering. And this time, when she pulled back, she rested her forehead against his.

"I don't know what this is between us," she whispered."

His arms wrapped around her, warm and secure.

**"Good,"** he said. **"Me too."**

They stayed like that for a long moment—entangled not in passion, but in the terrifying, tender truth of two people beginning to care far more than they ever planned to.

Outside, the moon hung high and silver in the night sky.

And in that quiet little karaoke room, something shifted—softly, quietly—between two hearts that had never been properly introduced, and were just starting to whisper hello.

........ 

Heat: Damn I want to kiss Rena too 😂😂😂