Chapter 8: "Behind the Smirks"
Reese's POV
I haven't talked to Raiden since what happened at their HQ. But I heard he's been telling everyone we finally started dating last week. I didn't correct him. And I didn't tell my sisters what's really going on between me and Raiden either.
He tried talking to me a few times, but I just couldn't bring myself to respond.
Today, as I sat in class, Raiden casually slid into the seat beside me, flashing that playful grin of his. Yasha, who normally sat there, had switched spots with him just to sit with Yuan. Classic.
"Kitten," Raiden said, his voice light but… sincere. "Why are you ignoring me?"
I looked up, surprised by his tone. His gray eyes searched mine carefully.
"Is this about what happened before?" he asked, his expression growing more serious.
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
His brows furrowed, a hint of frustration slipping into his voice. "That time your sisters caught us on the couch—with me on top of you, shirtless." His hand ran through his hair. "You've been avoiding me ever since."
Just hearing him say it out loud made my cheeks flush. That stupid situation caused way too many complications.
"Why are you bringing that up now?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended. "It's not exactly something I want to revisit."
Raiden sighed, visibly regretful. "Because I want to understand. If that's the reason, then I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to spiral like that."
His sincerity was clear—but so was my frustration. Part of me wanted to confront him. Part of me just wanted to move on and forget it ever happened.
So I chose neither.
Instead, I brushed the whole thing aside. For now, at least. We were in a 'relationship' now—even if it was mostly for show. If I didn't act the part, people would start asking questions. Worse, they'd think it was all fake. Which, honestly, it kind of was.
I laughed suddenly, and he looked confused.
"I never thought I'd see you being this sincere," I teased.
Raiden blinked, clearly caught off guard. Then he chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "Don't get used to it," he said, flashing me a familiar smirk.
I smiled. Just a little. "I'll keep that in mind."
His lightheartedness eased the tension between us, if only slightly. We both knew the real problems were still buried underneath, but for now, I was okay pretending everything was fine.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class. We packed our things, and Raiden fell into step beside me as we left the room. He kept up his usual playful attitude, but I could tell he was trying—really trying—to make things right.
As we reached the hallway, he stopped and turned to me.
"So… are we good for now?"
I hesitated, then nodded. "For now. But we still need to talk—soon."
He nodded in return. "I understand. Just let me know when."
We walked on, the air between us lighter, but not quite clear. He was giving me space, and I appreciated it. But I also knew we couldn't keep avoiding the conversation forever.
The rest of the day passed in a blur—classes, my sisters, the usual chaos. They could tell something was up, but they didn't push.
That evening, I found myself replaying the moment over and over again. Raiden's sincerity. My guarded laughter. The distance we kept despite being "together."
And I knew—eventually—we'd have to stop pretending.
Laying in bed, I was bored out of my mind. I'd already scrolled through social media twice, tried to nap, even debated organizing my bookshelf alphabetically. Desperate, I opened my contacts and started FaceTiming everyone I could think of.
No one answered.
And I couldn't bother my sisters either—they were off doing God knows what. I just knew they were busy.
I sighed and scrolled through one last time, ready to give up.
Then his name appeared.
Raiden.
I stared at it for a few seconds, my finger hovering over the screen. I wasn't sure if I wanted to talk to him. Actually, I was pretty sure I didn't. But I was bored and maybe just a tiny bit curious.
Then—oh no.
My thumb must have slipped.
Because suddenly, my phone was ringing.
"Shit," I whispered, panicking as I tried to hang up, but it was too late.
The screen lit up with his face.
Raiden answered immediately.
"Hello, Babycakes," he said, that irritatingly smug voice of his carrying through the speaker. "Why are you calling this late?"
He looked like he had just stepped out of the shower, hair damp, towel slung around his neck. The lighting in his room was dim, until he walked into the bathroom and flicked it on.
I rolled my eyes. Of course he looked good without even trying.
"Huh? Isn't it you who called?" I replied, feigning innocence, hoping he wouldn't catch on to the fact that I had accidentally called him while debating whether or not I should.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, skeptical. "Right."
I pursed my lips.
"Anyway," I said, shifting on my bed, "since this is already a call, we might as well talk."
Raiden raised an eyebrow. "Talk? You want to talk?"
"Don't make it weird," I muttered, grabbing my pillow and hugging it close. "Let's talk about you telling everyone we're a couple."
He fell silent for a beat, then laughed. "Ohhh, so that's what this is about. Come on, it was your idea. And everyone already thinks our constant bickering is our love language."
"Love language, my ass," I muttered, exasperated. "And yeah, it was my idea—to get back at you. But it backfired. So I'm taking it back."
He just laughed again. Then I watched him move around the screen, grabbing something off-camera before propping his phone on the sink. His entire upper body came into view—shirtless, abs glistening under the bathroom light.
"Don't stare too long, Kitten," he said, that smug grin on his lips. "You might actually fall for me."
I immediately looked away. "Huh? As if," I scoffed, standing up. If he was getting ready for bed, I might as well do the same. Wash my face, brush my teeth, skincare—standard routine.
And somehow… the FaceTime kept going.
No arguing. No sarcasm (well, just a bit). Just... him brushing his teeth while I washed my face. His teasing remarks while I dabbed moisturizer on my cheeks. Me rolling my eyes while he fixed his hair. It was oddly quiet. Strangely normal.
For a moment, it almost felt like we were a real couple.
A very strange, dysfunctional, not-official couple—but a couple nonetheless.
Afterwards, we both flopped back into bed, screens tilted lazily toward the ceiling. Raiden yawned, his face lit by the soft glow of his lamp, hair still slightly damp, and eyes half-lidded with sleep.
"Why are you still here?" I asked quietly, not in annoyance this time, but with the tiniest trace of amusement.
"Dunno," he replied, voice softer now. "I guess… this feels kinda nice."
I didn't say anything. Neither did he.
The silence wasn't awkward—it was just quiet. Comfortable. Like we were on the same page for once, without needing to say anything else.
I smiled faintly, resting my cheek against the pillow. My thumb hovered near the screen to end the call, when suddenly—
"Nice red lingerie, by the way," Raiden commented casually.
Then the call ended.
I blinked.
Red… lingerie?
My eyes widened. I looked down.
Oh. My. God.
My tank top had slid just low enough, and my bra—my very red, very obvious bra—had been visible the entire time.
Face burning, I let out a horrified groan and buried my head in the pillow before grabbing the phone and throwing it into the bed. Not hard—but definitely harder than necessary.
"Stupid, smug, insufferable—ugh!"
Still, despite my embarrassment, I couldn't stop the smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
He was impossible.
But he was Raiden.
After the initial wave of panic passed and my cheeks stopped radiating heat like a furnace, I reached for my phone again. It lay there on the bed, innocently glowing like it hadn't just been used to embarrass me.
I opened the call log out of pure instinct.
Call Duration: 1 hour and 24 minutes.
I blinked at the screen.
That long?
With him?
I sighed, falling back against the pillows, the phone resting on my chest.
One hour and twenty-four minutes. With Raiden Whitlock. Shirtless, smug, impossible Raiden.
Honestly?
Not the worst hour and twenty-four minutes I've had.
He was annoying, yes. An absolute menace to my sanity. But somehow, the time didn't feel wasted. We laughed, we bickered like always, and for a moment… it almost felt real.
I stared up at the ceiling, arms crossed behind my head.
"For someone so annoying," I muttered to myself, lips twitching into the smallest smile, "you're… not that bad, I guess."
Then I rolled over and shoved my face into the pillow.
Ugh. I was so not going to admit that out loud.