By the fourth day, the apartment no longer felt temporary, it felt lived in.
Nara had stopped asking where things belonged. Keigh had stopped pretending he didn't know exactly how she took her tea. The air between them had shifted into something warmer, heavier, like a held breath neither of them was ready to release.
That evening, they sat on opposite ends of the couch, a quiet movie playing in the background neither of them was actually watching.
Nara laughed at something on screen, turning toward him instinctively. Keigh was already looking at her. The laughter faded, replaced by awareness of how close they were, of how quiet the room had become, of the way his gaze lingered just a second too long.
"You're staring," she said softly, not accusing. Curious.
"Am I?" His voice was lower than usual.
She nodded and he didn't look away. Instead, he shifted closer, slowly, deliberately, giving her every chance to pull back. She didn't and their knees brushed.
The contact sent something electric through both of them.
"Nara," he said, like a warning he didn't quite believe in.
She swallowed and nodded and that was all it took. He kissed her, not rushed or hesitant. Deep, sure, consuming and the kind of kiss that said everything he'd been holding back. His hand came up to her waist instinctively, steadying her as she leaned into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Her breath hitched, his control strained. The kiss grew heavier, slower, charged with intent until Nara suddenly became very aware of how close they were, how intense it had become, how her body was reacting in ways she wasn't ready to confront.
She pulled back abruptly, cheeks burning.
"I...." She stood too quickly. "I need... I'm going to bed."
Keigh didn't stop her. He stayed where he was, seated, elbows braced on his knees, staring at the space she'd just vacated like it had betrayed him. His jaw was tight, not with frustration, but restraint. The kind that took effort, discipline and choice.
When he finally stood, it wasn't to follow her but out of habit. He checked the front door first, then the balcony, the secondary locks, the silent alarm. The cameras, angles adjusted, feeds steady. His men were already stationed where they needed to be, but he verified anyway, he always did.
Only when the apartment was secure did he stop in the hallway. Nara's door was closed and he hesitated.
Inside, Nara lay on her side, back to the door, heart hammering as she listened to his footsteps slow, then stop. She squeezed her eyes shut, pretending sleep, even though she knew it was useless. She could feel him out there, feel his presence the way she'd started to quiet, steady, grounding.
The door opened softly and Keigh stepped in without sound, careful not to disturb her. Moonlight slipped through the curtains, silvering the room. He stood there for a long moment, watching the rise and fall of her breathing, the way her fingers curled lightly into the pillow.
She smelled like lavender and something warm, familiar already. He sat on the edge of the bed and Nara's breath hitched before she could stop it. Keigh froze, then relaxed when she didn't stir again. Slowly, deliberately, he lay down behind her, not touching at first, just close. Close enough that warmth replaced the chill she hadn't realized she felt.
After a moment, he draped an arm around her waist. It wasn't possessive or demanding, it was protective. Nara melted into it before she could think better of it. Her back pressed gently to his chest, fitting there with a naturalness that startled her. Her heart slowed, her thoughts quieted.
This is dangerous, she thought faintly, but she didn't pull away. Keigh didn't move again. He stayed awake long after her breathing evened out, memorizing the weight of her, the trust in her stillness. It took everything in him not to tighten his hold, not to cross the invisible line they were both pretending didn't exist. He kissed her hair and closed his eyes.
When he finally slipped away before dawn, the bed cooled too quickly. Nara woke later with the echo of his warmth still around her.
She touched the space behind her, confused and inexplicably safe.
And somewhere in the quiet of the morning, both of them understood the same truth, whatever this was, it was no longer just temporary.