The Body and the Breakdown

The morning light filtered through the grand windows of the Caldwell bedroom, casting golden rays that danced across the polished marble floor. The mansion was quiet, still cloaked in the soft silence of early dawn. On the plush leather sofa, Haru stirred beneath a blanket, his limbs curled up tightly as though shielding himself from a dream he didn't want to wake from.

His messy dark hair flopped over his eyes, and with a groggy groan, he slowly sat up—rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand like a sleepy kitten. His shirt had bunched around his waist, revealing a flash of his slender hip. He yawned softly, blinking into the room, still half-trapped in sleep.

Then he froze.

The bathroom door creaked open.

And out stepped Lucien—wearing nothing but a towel.

Water droplets clung to his golden skin, trailing down the ridges of his sculpted chest, flowing along the carved lines of his six-pack abs, before disappearing beneath the towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His blond hair was wet, tousled, and gleaming in the sunlight. He looked like he stepped out of a perfume ad—or worse—a forbidden dream.

Haru's sleepy brain went blank.

His wide eyes trailed over Lucien's body with the curiosity of a boy who had just walked into the gym for the first time. His lips parted slightly, and without realizing it, a tiny, dreamy smile appeared on his face. He wasn't just staring.

He was admiring.

And Lucien noticed.

A slow, dangerous smirk curled across Lucien's lips as he stepped closer, each footstep silent but heavy with intention. Haru didn't move. His body forgot how. His brain screamed for him to look away, but his eyes were stubborn traitors.

"In awe, are we?" Lucien's voice was low, teasing—dripping with mischief and wrapped in silk.

Haru blinked, panicked. "Wha—what?! No! I was just—uh—looking at the…floor?"

Lucien chuckled, stepping closer—now just inches away. Haru's breath caught in his throat. He was suddenly very aware of everything: the heat radiating off Lucien's damp skin, the scent of his cologne mixed with shampoo, the raw masculinity wrapped in that smug, confident expression.

With a devilish gleam in his eyes, Lucien leaned down slightly, his breath brushing against Haru's ear. "Do you… want to touch it?"

Haru's entire body tensed. His ears turned red. His eyes darted away—only to land right back on Lucien's chest.

"I—I—um—" he stammered.

And then, without thinking, the word escaped.

"…Yes."

Lucien's smirk widened into something almost sinful. Before Haru could retract the word, Lucien gently took his hand and guided it to his abs. Haru's fingers brushed against the hard muscle, and a breathy, stunned gasp escaped his lips.

"Whoa…" Haru whispered, blinking. "It's… really firm."

His voice dropped to a pout. "I wish I had a body like this."

Lucien tilted Haru's chin up, his thumb gently grazing his cheek. "No," he said firmly, in that deep, commanding tone that made Haru freeze. "I won't allow it."

Haru looked up, confused. "What do you mean?"

Lucien leaned closer, his voice a teasing whisper laced with suggestion. "Your body's already perfect. Small. Soft. You fit right in my arms…" He paused, letting the silence thicken. "Especially when we're doing certain things."

Haru's eyes widened like saucers. His cheeks exploded in color. The realization hit like thunder.

Did he just say that?!

Haru suddenly realized he was still touching Lucien's chest—and worse, enjoying it. Mortified, he yanked his hand away like he'd touched fire.

"S-Sorry!" he blurted, stepping back. "I didn't mean to—I mean—forget it! I'm going to freshen up!"

He turned away in full panic mode, heading for the bathroom. But before he could escape, Lucien's hand wrapped around his wrist, stopping him mid-step.

"Make it quick," Lucien whispered, his eyes dark with amusement.

Haru glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowing. "Why? What now?"

Lucien grinned. "Because we're going to Paris. For our honeymoon."

The word hit like a slap.

"H-Honeymoon?! No way! I told you yesterday—I'm not going. I don't want to be seen with you even for five minutes, let alone five days!"

Lucien raised a brow. "Haru, sweetheart… how can a single man go on a honeymoon?"

His grin was insufferable. His voice was syrupy sweet and loaded with sarcasm. Haru felt heat crawl up his neck again.

"Then go with someone else!" Haru snapped, yanking his wrist free from Lucien's grip. "I'm not your toy!"

Lucien's smirk faded slightly, though the teasing glint lingered. "You can ask my dad if you really don't want to come. But if he says yes, I'll drop it."

Haru stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, his heart racing, his mind a mess of unwanted feelings.

Behind the door, Lucien stood silently.

He didn't say it aloud—but in his heart, he murmured:

"I just wanted you to come with me, Haru. Because it's the first time I'll be going somewhere… with someone I can't stop thinking about."