His fingers moved slowly over the buttons of my shirt, calm and precise like always, but the closeness between us made every small touch feel heavier than it should have, my attention completely fixed on his hands, on the warmth of his breath, on the way his eyes occasionally lifted to mine before lowering again.
Neither of us spoke for a moment.
The sound of running water filled the quiet space around us softly while the last button came undone.
Then Chak slid the shirt carefully off my shoulders.
His gaze lingered briefly over the faint traces of clay still on my skin before he looked back up at me again.
"You really managed to get it everywhere," he murmured.
"That's because your pottery lessons are very intense."
A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
"Clearly."
I watched him loosen his own shirt next, slower this time, and for a second I forgot to breathe again because seeing him like this—without the perfect control, without the sharp CEO image everyone else knew—still affected me more than I wanted to admit.
Especially when he looked this handsome doing absolutely nothing.
Unfair.
Completely unfair.
My eyes drifted lower for half a second too long.
Of course he noticed.
"You're staring again," he said quietly.
"I'm appreciating."
"That's not better."
"It is for me."
That finally made him shake his head slightly, though the softness in his expression stayed.
Then he reached for my hand.
"Come here."
I let him guide me closer to the shower, the warmth from the steam already filling the room, and the second we stepped under the water, I let out a quiet breath as the heat relaxed the last remaining tension in my body.
For a moment, we just stood there.
Close.
Water running over both of us.
Clay slowly washing away.
Chak's hands moved gently along my arms, cleaning away the remaining traces from my skin with slow, careful movements that somehow felt even more intimate than kissing him earlier in the pottery room.
I looked up at him through damp hair sticking slightly to my forehead.
"You know," I murmured softly, "this is probably the strangest date anyone has ever had."
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
"Pottery, emotional confessions, accidentally drunk chocolate, and now this?"
A quiet breath of amusement escaped him.
"You forgot being carried around the house."
"That too."
I smiled faintly before my expression softened again.
"But honestly…"
My fingers slid lightly against his chest under the warm water.
"This might be my favorite day with you."
Something in his gaze changed immediately at that.
Not dramatic.
Just deeper.
And the way he touched me afterward—
gentler than before—
felt like his answer even before he spoke.
"Mine too," he said quietly.
The words settled warmly inside my chest, mixing with the steam and the quiet intimacy surrounding us until everything felt soft around the edges, almost unreal in the gentlest way possible.
For a while, neither of us spoke again.
We didn't need to.
The water ran quietly over us while Chak's hands stayed on me, slow and careful as he washed the remaining clay from my skin, his touch steady enough to calm every restless thought still lingering in the back of my mind.
I watched him the whole time.
The wet strands of dark hair falling slightly over his forehead.
The focused look in his eyes.
The way he touched me like I was something precious without even realizing he was doing it.
"You're staring again," he murmured without looking up.
I smiled softly.
"You make it hard not to."
That finally made him glance at me properly.
And the moment our eyes met—
something shifted again.
Quiet.
Heavy.
Warm.
I stepped closer instinctively until my hands rested against his chest beneath the water, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my palms.
"Thank you," I whispered softly.
His brows lowered slightly.
"For what?"
"For today."
My fingers moved lightly against him as I spoke.
"For showing me your secret room. For trusting me. For letting me see this side of you."
A small silence followed.
Then Chak lifted one hand slowly to my face, brushing damp hair back from my forehead with gentle fingers.
"There aren't many things in this world that are fully mine," he said quietly.
My chest tightened softly.
"But you are?"
His gaze held mine steadily.
"Yes."
The answer came so naturally it almost stole the breath from my lungs.
Not possession.
Not control.
Just certainty.
The kind that said he had already built me into his future without hesitation.
I leaned forward slowly and kissed him again, softer this time, lingering, my arms sliding around his neck while his hands settled firmly at my waist, pulling me close beneath the warm water.
When the kiss broke, I rested my forehead lightly against his.
"You know what scares me?" I murmured quietly.
His hands tightened slightly around me.
"What?"
"That one day this will feel too good to be real."
The words came out more vulnerable than I intended.
For a second, Chak just looked at me.
Then he kissed my forehead gently.
And when he spoke again, his voice was calm enough to steady something inside me immediately.
"Then I'll spend every day proving it is."
I looked up at him through the steam, my hands still resting against his chest, my thoughts warm and unfocused from everything that had happened tonight, from the wine, the chocolate, the way he kept looking at me like I was the most important thing in his world.
"I would," I murmured softly, moving a little closer again.
Chak's eyes immediately sharpened slightly.
"No."
I frowned faintly.
"No?"
"You're not thinking clearly."
I shook my head stubbornly and kissed his jaw lightly, my fingers sliding over his shoulders.
"I know exactly what I want," I whispered. "And I want you. Right now."
For a second, his hands tightened around my waist.
Not losing control.
Holding it.
Then he leaned closer, his lips brushing near my ear, his voice low enough to send warmth straight through me anyway.
"Another time," he murmured quietly. "When you're thinking with a sober head."
I let out a small, frustrated sound under my breath.
"Chak…"
But he only shook his head once, calm and firm.
"No."
Before I could protest again, he suddenly lifted me effortlessly into his arms beneath the warm water, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck while he carried me out of the shower.
The cooler air outside immediately hit my skin, making me move closer against him while he grabbed a towel and started drying me carefully, far gentler than someone like Chak should logically know how to be.
"You're stubborn," I muttered quietly while he dried my hair.
"So are you."
"That's different."
"It's really not."
I huffed softly but didn't argue further, mostly because his hands moving over me while helping me into soft pajamas were distracting enough already.
Especially when he focused so carefully on every button and sleeve like this mattered too.
While he adjusted the shirt properly on me, my fingers wandered absentmindedly over his arms, tracing slowly along his muscles just because I liked touching him.
"You're very muscular," I informed him seriously.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"Thank you."
"I'm appreciating again."
"I noticed."
I smiled sleepily at that while still playing lightly with his arm, completely unashamed, until Chak finally shook his head softly and lifted me once more.
"Bed," he said simply.
I didn't protest this time.
Not even a little.
He carried me to the bedroom and laid me down carefully onto the bed before climbing in beside me a moment later, and almost immediately I moved closer, curling against him instinctively, my head resting against his chest while his arm wrapped securely around me.
Safe.
Warm.
Mine.
I listened quietly to the steady sound of his heartbeat while his fingers moved slowly through my hair again.
And before sleep could fully pull me under, I murmured softly against him—
"I love this side of you the most."
His arms tightened around me slightly.
And in the quiet darkness of the room—
he held me even closer.
My eyes were already half closed by then, my body completely relaxed against him, warm from the shower and exhausted from everything the night had turned into, while Chak's fingers continued moving slowly through my hair in that calm, steady rhythm that always made me feel safe without even trying.
I felt him shift slightly beside me, just enough to pull the blanket higher around us before his lips brushed softly against the top of my head.
And then, quietly, in that low voice that always seemed softer only for me—
"Good night, my little drunk boy."
A sleepy smile immediately appeared on my face.
"I'm not drunk anymore," I mumbled weakly against his chest.
"A little," he replied calmly.
I let out a quiet, offended sound that barely even sounded convincing anymore, too tired to properly argue, and I felt the faint vibration of his chest beneath my cheek when he laughed softly under his breath.
Unfair.
Even his laugh sounded comforting now.
I shifted closer instinctively, one hand lightly gripping the fabric of his shirt while sleep slowly pulled at me stronger and stronger.
"Chaky…" I murmured quietly.
"Hm?"
"Don't leave before I wake up tomorrow."
His arm tightened around me immediately.
"I won't."
Simple.
Certain.
That was enough for me.
I let out one last quiet breath, listening to his heartbeat beneath my ear while his hand continued moving gently through my hair, and somewhere between one heartbeat and the next—
I fell asleep safely in his arms.