Temptation

After Hana almost cut her own ponytail off with a retractable vibro-dagger ("IT VIBRATED INTO MY SOUL!"), they agreed to leave before someone or something got decapitated.

They wandered into a tech room, accidentally turned off the oxygen regulator for the janitor bots, which led to them short-circuiting and scooting around like drunk turtles.

Hana decided they should try to cook something proper in the high-tech kitchen next.

Something cheffy.

"We're going full Gordon Ramsay… but with seaweed, alien mushrooms, and shrimp I'm pretty sure blinked at me."

They made what they dubbed a "Space Stir Fry," which somehow turned blue halfway through. Zina accidentally dropped a spice packet marked FOR FUEL ONLY into the mix, which gave the dish a weird minty afterburn and made Hana's left eye twitch for five solid minutes.

But they still ate it.

Because they were wild.

And slightly dumb.

After dinner they sat in the common room again to relax before bed. They had snatched a few bottles of sake that they'd found in a beautiful stash in the freezer and drank while they talked.

Hana sipped sake in silence before speaking softly. "Zina… tell me the truth. What do you think he is to you?"

Zina's eyes stung. "He… he was everything. My brother. My friend. My secret… everything. When I was little, my mom was never home, my dad worked abroad. Malik was… he was there. Always. Teaching me maths, bandaging my knees, listening to me ramble about anime, beating up my bullies. He was my hero."

Hana listened quietly, letting her speak.

"I used to dream… about him marrying me one day," Zina whispered, recollecting her stupid ideas biting her lips. "I… I would imagine us having a little apartment, him working in construction like he said he wanted, me working in IT. I never told him. I was thirteen. I thought he'd laugh."

"And then… he died. I mourned him for years, Hana. I went to therapy, I drank, I self-harmed. I hacked fucking government sites to put his name on hero boards. I… I couldn't let go."

Hana reached out, squeezing her hand tight. "And now he's back."

"Yeah…" Zina laughed bitterly. "But he's an assassin. And I'm… I'm just a hacker who pretends she's fearless."

Hana studied her best friend with soft brown eyes. "You're still in love with him."

Zina shook her head violently, pink curls swaying. "No. No. I hate him. I fucking hate him. He abandoned me. He didn't come back. For six fucking years."

Hana tilted her head. "You can hate him and love him at the same time, you know."

Zina whispered. "That's one of the problem."

They fell silent. The only sound was the hum of the ocean base around them and the faint buzz of neon jellyfish outside.

Hana smirked suddenly. "Still though… you totally wanna ride him like a pony, don't you?"

"Fuck you." Zina threw a pillow at her, face burning crimson. "I need a drink"

Hours later, Hana snored softly in her room, empty bottles scattered around. Zina lay alone, half-asleep, hugging her raccoon plushie Tiko to her chest.

She felt a soft kiss on her forehead.

Blinking blearily, she saw him. Malik. His golden eyes were sleepy, strands of his blond cornrows falling to brush her cheek. He smelled like leather and night air.

"Malik…?" she whispered.

"Shh," he murmured softly, voice husky. "Go back to sleep, Soda Pop."

Tears welled up as her drunken honesty slipped free. "Welcome back… you asshole… I missed you… so fucking much… I wanted to die… so many times… but you weren't there… you… you promised… you liar… you… you smell nice… you're hot now… asshole… still… missed you…"

He chuckled softly, pained and warm, pressing another kiss to her forehead. "I missed you too, Neve."

"Don't… leave… again…" she mumbled, her words slurring as her eyelids fluttered shut. "Please… don't… go…"

His chest ached with guilt and longing as he tucked her stray pink curls behind her ear. "Sleep. I'm here."

She fell asleep with a tear-streaked smile on her lips. He lingered for a moment, memorizing her peaceful face, before leaving quietly.

†††††††††‡††††††††††††††

The next morning she woke up with a groan. Her warm gotten sheets a tangles mess with her legs. The light casting dappled turquoise light into her room. Zina groaned, clutching her pounding head.

"Fucking hell… sake… never again…" she muttered.

Dragging herself to the kitchen, she froze in the doorway.

Malik stood at the stove, shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips. His broad shoulders flexed as he stirred something in a pan. Golden tattoos curled over his dark skin like fallen stars. He looked back at her with a tired smile.

But her eyes widened in horror as she noticed the thick white bandage wrapping his shoulder, stained faintly pink with blood.

"Malik…" she whispered, voice breaking as tears stung her eyes again.

He raised a brow. "Morning, Soda Pop. Want eggs?"

Zina screamed when she saw the soaked bandage peeking out from under Malik's arm. "What the fuck happened to you?!"

Before he could react, she moved fast, fingers deft as she turned him to her to reveal the wound. Her chest clenched painfully at the sight of the angry red flesh, stitched with ruthless precision.

"Who did this to you?" she whispered, her voice shaking with rage and something she refused to name.

He looked away, lips curling faintly. "Doesn't matter."

"It fucking matters to me!" she snapped, glaring up at him with tear-filled ruby eyes that glowed dangerously in the morning light.

"Don't worry about it, Soda Pop," he murmured, trying to pull his shoulder away casually.

She shoved him back down onto the kitchen stool with unexpected force, making him grunt in surprise. "Sit. Down."

His golden eyes flickered, the corner of his lips twitching in something like amusement despite the pain. " Been a long time a woman has ever ordered me around like that."

"Get used to it," she hissed, yanking open the cabinet above his head. "Where's your med kit?"

"Lower shelf," he replied quietly.

She grabbed it, hands moving with trained precision as she pulled out antiseptic, fresh gauze, and surgical tape. She tried so hard to avoid his gaze, focusing on cleaning the wound, brushing against his burning skin, feeling every twitch of his corded muscle under her fingers.

But he never stopped staring. Watching her. Burning into her.

"Stop staring," she muttered, cheeks flushing pink as she dabbed antiseptic on his wound. "You're distracting me."

A devilish grin curled his lips, slow and sinful. Before she could process it, his large, calloused hand slipped around her waist and pulled her closer between his parted thighs. Heat exploded across her body as she felt his bare chest against her clothed one, her knees almost giving out.

"Malik…" she breathed, her voice cracking like shattered glass.

He leaned in, his nose brushing against hers, golden eyes dark with something unreadable. Something primal. "You're the distracting one, Soda Pop. Maybe you should stop"

Her breath hitched, lips parting as she stared at him helplessly. His lashes were thick and dark, his jaw sharp and dusted with faint gold stubble. The thin scar above his brow, the faint scent of leather, sweat, and something purely him made her stomach clench painfully.

She swallowed thickly. "S-Stop what?"

"Looking at me like that," he growled softly, voice rumbling deep in his chest like a rolling thunder. "It's distracting."

She smirked faintly despite her pounding heart, brushing her fingers deliberately against the sensitive skin near his wound, watching his muscles twitch and tense under her touch. " I don't know what you're talking about"

He groaned low in his throat, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "Neve… don't…"

"Don't what?" she teased softly, brushing her lips lightly against his collarbone to blow away the antiseptic's sting. Her lips barely grazed his skin.

"Don't… test me," he warned, his voice strained.

She pulled back just enough to look at him through her thick lashes, ruby eyes defiant and dark with lust. "Test? Or what… Malik…?"

He moved so fast she didn't have time to register it.

In a fluid, predatory motion, he stood up, towering over her, muscles rippling with power and tension. His hand gripped her chin firmly, tilting her face up to his golden eyes dark with a raging storm.

"You like to dabble too much, you weren't always this daring" he whispered, his thumb brushing over her trembling bottom lip.

She licked it lightly, taunting him." It's been six years"

His eyes flickered dangerously, nostrils flaring as his grip on her waist tightened, pulling her flush against his hard body. Their lips were inches apart. Their breaths mixed, hot and ragged, tasting of mint and danger.

"Am I… interrupting something?" Hana's voice echoed from the kitchen doorway.

They broke apart instantly like electrocuted cats. Zina stumbled back, face bright pink, while Malik turned away, running a hand through his cornrows with an annoyed growl.

Hana grinned mischievously, leaning against the doorframe. "Don't mind me. I just came for coffee. Continue your hot little scene though. I live for drama."

"Get out, Hana!" Zina snapped, her voice cracking embarrassingly.

Hana snickered as she left, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Use protection~"

The door clicked shut, leaving a suffocating silence between them. The tension was gone, replaced by awkward reality. Zina cleared her throat sharply, refusing to meet his gaze as she wrapped the fresh bandage around his shoulder with shaky hands.

"Sit down," she muttered coldly.

He sat, silent, golden eyes locked on her with a burning intensity that made her skin flush everywhere his gaze touched.

They didn't say another word.

But the air between them pulsed with unsaid confessions, dark desire, and the promise of something dangerous… inevitable… and forbidden.