It was 2:07 AM.
I wasn't supposed to be awake.
I definitely wasn't supposed to be wearing earbuds, curled under my blanket, watching Ren's voice acting clips on loop.
But here I was.
Living dangerously.
In a hoodie I "accidentally" borrowed from him.
And a full-blown identity crisis.
---
Okay, in my defense, this was for work.
We were recording an emotional ad next week, and I wanted to study delivery.
Except I wasn't watching the finished commercial.
I was watching the raw audio files.
The uncut takes. The ones where he didn't use his "professional voice" yet.
Where he laughed between takes. Swore under his breath. Coughed, then said "shit, sorry."
Where he read romantic lines **so soft** I could feel them in my spine.
---
I clicked replay again.
His line: *"You don't get to leave. Not when I've already chosen you."*
Pause.
I screamed silently into a pillow.
What kind of voice sounds like it can **ruin your life and fix it at the same time**?
---
I took out one earbud, like that would help me breathe.
It didn't.
His voice was still playing. And for some reason, I whispered back:
"…I didn't want to leave."
I froze.
Did I just roleplay back?
TO AN AUDIO FILE?
---
This wasn't research anymore.
This was **audio thirst**.
I rolled onto my back, eyes staring at the ceiling, regretting every life decision that led me here.
Then—
A vibration.
My phone lit up.
**REN: You still up?**
I dropped the phone.
Literally dropped it onto my face.
---
I texted back too fast.
**ME:** No.
**ME (again):** I mean yes. But not doing anything weird.
Then added:
**ME (again again):** Just editing.
**REN:** My voice?
I stopped breathing.
**ME:** …maybe?
**REN:** Which take?
**ME:** The soft one.
**REN:** That narrows it down to like 30.
**ME:** The one where you say "I've already chosen you."
**REN:** Ah.
**REN:** That's not in the final cut.
I blinked.
**ME:** What?
**REN:** They removed it. Too intense.
**REN:** But I left it in the raw folder. In case you wanted it.
---
I stared at that message for a full minute.
HE KNEW?
HE LEFT IT ON PURPOSE?
I typed:
**ME:** Why?
He replied:
**REN:** Because I knew you'd find it. Eventually.
---
I sat up.
My heart was thudding so loud, I thought the neighbors might call security.
Another text came in.
**REN:** Wanna hear it live?
**REN:** I'm at the hallway. Room 603.
MY ROOM.
---
I flung the blanket off.
Ran to the door.
Opened it slowly.
And there he was. Hoodie. Beanie. Barefoot. Like some kind of midnight voice demon.
He didn't say anything at first.
Then—
He leaned in. Really close.
And whispered:
**"You don't get to leave. Not when I've already chosen you."**
In real life.
In my face.
---
I didn't move. Couldn't.
He watched my reaction. Quiet. Dangerous.
Then he asked:
"…Still research?"
I shook my head.
"No. This is definitely the field test."
He smiled.
And stepped inside.
Everyone said we already kissed.
Now? They're finally right.
But no one said it would feel like this.
Like slow-burning thunder.
Like a promise I didn't know I'd been waiting to hear with my whole body.
---
The moment the door clicked shut, we weren't acting anymore.
Ren stood just inside my room, hoodie half-zipped, looking like temptation in cotton form.
I wasn't even breathing. Just standing there like an idiot with an accelerated heart rate.
He didn't speak. Didn't smile. Just watched me—like he was waiting for me to blink first.
I didn't.
I walked toward him instead.
One step. Two. No thoughts. Just want.
---
When we were chest to chest, I tilted my head up.
"I'm not gonna pretend I'm chill," I whispered.
Ren's voice was low. "Good. I was tired of pretending."
And that was it.
He leaned down.
Our lips met.
---
It wasn't soft.
It wasn't experimental.
It was **deliberate**.
Like he'd memorized the blueprint of my mouth and had been waiting to draw it for real.
I grabbed his hoodie, just to stay upright.
He exhaled against my cheek. The kind of exhale that makes your knees give out.
When his tongue slid against mine, I nearly melted into the floor.
---
He pulled back first.
But only barely.
"I knew it," he said.
"Knew what?"
"You'd taste exactly like I imagined."
I hit his shoulder. "Shut up."
He smirked. "Make me."
And oh, I did.
---
The second kiss was worse.
Better.
Slower.
More dangerous.
He kissed like it wasn't his first time—but like it was the first time it **mattered.**
His hand slid up my back, pulling me close. My fingers went to his hair like they belonged there.
We kissed like the world had shrunk down to just this room, this heat, this **YES**.
---
Eventually, we stopped. For oxygen.
His forehead leaned on mine. His breath hitched like mine.
"We really shouldn't do this when we have a 6AM call time," he said.
"Too late," I muttered.
"Also," he added, "we just confirmed every crew rumor."
"Oh no," I fake-gasped. "You mean we kissed off-cam before the on-cam scene?"
He grinned. "Scandalous."
I bit my lip. "Wanna make it worse?"
---
He froze. Smiled dangerously.
"What are you proposing, Miss Aizawa?"
I shrugged. "Field research. Continued."
---
He pushed me back gently, toward the bed.
Just far enough to keep us both in trouble.
The look in his eyes?
Not innocent.
Not sinful.
Just **real**.
And finally—**mine**.