Unit 1901 — Daniel's Apartment
The bathroom door eased open, and a soft mist rolled out like fog.
Daniel emerged slowly, tousling his wet hair with a towel.
Clad in nothing but a white towel slung low around his waist, his body was a study in sculpted restraint—broad shoulders, lean muscles, sharply defined abs.
Not overly bulky, but unmistakably strong.
Beads of water slid down his skin, catching the light, tracing the lines of his torso.
Every movement was casual… but lethally beautiful.
– Ding.
The elevator chimed, and soft footsteps in slippers approached.
"Daniel, did you find anything new—"
Celeste stopped mid-sentence at the doorway. Their eyes met. Her expression froze.
"Ack—sorry. I'll come back later. Or you can come up after you're done—"
Before she could turn, Daniel reached out and caught her wrist.
His hand was damp, warm against her skin.
"I did find things. And I have a legal meeting in a bit, so time's tight."
His voice was low. Calm.
"Sit. Let's talk now."
"R-right. Okay, sure."
Celeste nodded awkwardly and sat down on the couch—but her gaze couldn't help drifting back to him.
That towel.
A single drop of water trailed between his abs, soaking into the edge of terrycloth.
Her eyes followed it before she could stop herself.
The cut of his V-line. The breadth of his chest.
The warm, damp scent of him—shampoo, steam, and something distinctly male.
The way he moved so naturally, so unbothered—it only made her hyper-aware.
Her breathing caught.
Her heart picked up speed.
The more she tried not to think, the more vivid it all became.
Her mouth felt dry.
A tightness curled low in her stomach.
"I've narrowed down media firms we could acquire—reasonable pricing, strategic locations…"
Daniel's voice filtered in from the background, but her mind was blurring.
He moved beside her without warning, settling on the couch.
"You listening to me at all?"
"Huh? Y-yeah. I'm listening…"
She nodded too quickly.
Daniel reached across the coffee table, flipping through folders.
"Personally, I'd love to toss that bastard into the Arctic," he muttered,
"But as vice chair, there's no point in buying out a crumbling outlet. We're better off launching our own. If we tie it into the entertainment arm, it's clean. We're checking media laws country by country…"
"…Running our own media could work."
Celeste nodded.
"If we link it to Langley Entertainment and maybe even fashion—"
She stopped. Daniel was looking at her.
"What? Do I have something on my face?"
He leaned in and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead.
"…Feels like you've got a fever."
"It's not that. It's just hot."She batted his hand away and stood abruptly.
"Anyway, I'll head up. I'll tell Noah we're moving forward—"
But as she turned, his arm wrapped around her waist.
She lost balance—and landed squarely on his lap.
"Ah—!"
Her palms pressed flat against his bare chest.
Heat. Muscle. Damp skin. It all met her touch in high-definition clarity.
Before she could pull away, Daniel tightened his hold.
She now straddled his thigh, and through the towel—through barely-there fabric—she felt him.
Clearly. Firmly.
The tension in his body, the shift beneath her—all too unmistakable.
"…So if it's not a fever, you're just… reacting to me?"
"Seriously?" she hissed.
"Cut it out. Let me go."
She moved to get up, but his hand landed gently on her shoulder.
"Oh? So it is that. Your ears are red." He smiled—slow, infuriating.
"I said, let me go." She squirmed—
—and her skirt hitched. Skin met towel.
And in the smallest, most electric of moments—she felt him twitch against her.
A low, guttural breath escaped his lips.
"…Haa…"
It was soft, but it cracked the air.
A sound full of everything he hadn't said.
His shoulders trembled, jaw clenched.
He exhaled through barely controlled restraint.
Celeste stared, frozen.
That reaction… it was real. Raw. Undeniable.
She couldn't move. Her chest thudded like a secret exposed.
Then Daniel leaned forward, resting his forehead on her shoulder. His wet hair tickled her jaw.
His breath slid down her neck.
"…Sorry," he murmured at last.
His voice was gravel. And far too dangerous.
"This part… is out of my control."
He lifted his head.
Their eyes locked.
And then—without warning, without hesitation—he kissed her.
Soft, but deep. Brief, but full of everything he'd kept buried.
In that one kiss lived ache, hunger, longing—and love unspoken.
When he pulled away, he looked at her with something like regret. And whispered:
"…You have no idea how close you were"
He gently helped her up.
Celeste said nothing as she stepped into the hall.
She hit the elevator button with trembling fingers.
Once the doors opened, she stepped inside and mashed the 'close' button repeatedly.
After the doors sealed—
Daniel ran a hand through his wet hair and let out a breathless laugh.
"…That wasn't the plan."
Then he closed his eyes.
Her warmth. Her scent. Her lips—Still clung to his skin like wildfire.