Ciry felt strong, possessive arms wrapped around her waist, anchoring her in delicious warmth. A comforting, deceptively pleasant scent—sun-kissed beach and ripe oranges with hints of dangerous spice—tickled her nose.
She instinctively leaned closer to the source, mumbling softly in a half-sleeping daze, her heart betraying her with each beat.
Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the muted golden morning light, and realized with a jolt that the intoxicating warmth belonged to Ryu.
Her gaze traveled upward, resting on his sleeping face—still and hauntingly serene in a way she rarely saw. He looked so much better like this, softer, almost innocent, too calm—peaceful in a way that felt like a beautiful, terrible lie.
A loose strand of his silky dark hair lay across his sculpted cheek, and she had the sudden, treacherous tender urge to brush it back, to tuck it gently behind his ear like a devoted wife might. A real wife. But she clenched her trembling hand instead. She wouldn't play that role. Not for him.
Her eyes wandered to the gleaming golden jewelry on his ears—one on the left ear, three on the right side—catching the morning light and casting a delicate, mesmerizing shimmer on his porcelain skin.
The contrast gave him an oddly charming, dangerous look: devastatingly cute, but undeniably badass.
Finally, the overwhelming urge was too much. She reached out, fingers poised to brush the rebellious strand from his face. But just before she touched him, Ryu's hand shot up like a viper, catching her wrist in midair.
"What are you trying to do, again?" he asked, voice rough with sleep and barely restrained attitude.
"Nothing," Ciry replied quickly, mortified. She pulled her hand back and turned away, heat flooding her cheeks.
"You got what you wanted—a night with the prince. Satisfied now?" he said coldly, his words cutting like ice.
"A night with the prince? Don't be ridiculous," she snapped, sitting up abruptly. "I didn't want any of this!"
Her voice trembled with raw emotion. "You forced me into marriage—and then you *took* something from me I can never get back," she said, the painful words nearly catching in her throat.
Ryu didn't flinch. He didn't even pretend to care, his eyes cold as winter frost.
Ryu shrugged, nonchalant and cruel. "The marriage, maybe. But the other thing? That was all on you."
Ciry blinked, utterly stunned. That casual cruelty made her chest tighten painfully. She suddenly noticed she was wearing one of his shirts, the fabric swimming on her frame.
"Did you… put this on me?" she asked softly, her tone shifting—gentle, uncertain. For the first time since they'd met, her voice carried something fragile and tender.
"Yeah, I did."
Ryu's voice was flat, almost bored, as he sat on the edge of the bed, back ramrod straight, ruffling his messy raven hair.
Ciry glanced at him, blinking hopefully. "You… did?"
He didn't look at her. "Don't flatter yourself. It didn't mean anything. I just felt sorry for you."
Ciry's hopeful smile wilted like a flower under bitter winter wind. "Wow. What a romantic."
He shrugged, still maddeningly expressionless. "I'm not here to romance anyone."
She scoffed, sitting up defiantly. "Well, don't worry, ice cube. I didn't enjoy it either."
He raised a brow slightly, the closest thing to surprise he ever showed. "No?"
"You're long and thin—like a cold eel. Honestly, I've had more fun talking to my dusty bookshelf."
Still no reaction from his perfect face. "Then stop acting like you want a desperate sequel."
Ciry's jaw dropped in indignation. "Excuse me?"
He finally turned his head, just a little, to look at her with piercing eyes. "You've been eyeing me like a starving cat since you woke up."
"I—I was not!" she sputtered furiously.
"I caught you doing so."
"Ryu! You're an absolute asshole."
He stood and raked his hand through his lustrous hair. "You've got a loud mouth for someone wearing my shirt."
"Oh please, like I begged you to play dress-up. You're the one who decided because you felt guilty," she snapped, clutching the hem possessively.
Ryu's eyes scanned her from top to bottom with the precision of a laser scanner—and the emotion of one too. "It's too big on you."
"Your fashion sense is as bland as your soulless personality." Ciry deadpanned. She stood up with a dramatic huff, flicking her cascading hair.
He ran a hand through his tousled hair and smirked dangerously. "Well aren't you a shameless liar."
"No. It's true," she replied with honeyed sweetness, mock-innocent.
Ryu leaned in a little too casually, whispering with hot breath, "Since you're in the mood for honesty, let me share mine. You're like a dry well down there—zero hydration. And no meat on your chest." His voice was low and teasing, the smirk barely hidden beneath his perfect lips.
Ciry's eyes widened in pure, scandalized shock. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, now you're offended?" He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in something too sharp to be a smile—more calculated observation than mockery, like he was coldly cataloging her reaction for future use.
She glared with fiery intensity. "Didn't your parents or guardian teach you not to bad-mouth a woman?"
He grinned wickedly. "You mocked me first. I just returned the favor. That's called equality." Ryu said as he took a bold, intimidating step toward her, the tantalizing warmth of his breath grazing her flushed cheek.
"I am not flat-chested, you insufferable moron!" she snapped, gripping the hem of the shirt dramatically.
Ryu slowly approached her, his tone low and unreadable, his presence overwhelming. "You know, for someone who's so confident, you're awfully defensive."
"Because you're being absolutely infuriating!"
He leaned slightly closer, his intoxicating breath brushing her sensitive ear. "And you're not flat-chested?"
She turned to slap his solid shoulder—only for him to effortlessly catch her delicate wrist.
"I could take this shirt off right now and prove it," she blurted without thinking, immediately regretting her reckless words.
He paused, one perfect eyebrow arching ever so slightly. "Then do it."
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again in speechless horror. "I—What?"
"You made the offer." He tugged lightly at the hem, sending shivers down her spine. "Don't back out now."
Flushed and panicked, Ciry twisted away, hugging the shirt down desperately. "You're completely insane!"
Ryu's voice remained calm, impassive, yet somehow charged with electricity. "Just verifying a claim."
She turned her back to him, trying to shield herself, but his hand tugged again at the shirt playfully—if "playful" could exist on someone as stoic and dangerous as him. Despite herself, Ciry giggled—an actual, light-hearted giggle at the absurdity.
And that's when Ava walked by.