You never imagined you would ever find love, certainly not in the man you spent your whole childhood running from. Not when every guy before him had been another red flag disguised as a promise.

You were the girl who smiled through storms, the one who held the family together while they assumed your life was easy.

Eldest or youngest, none of it mattered. In your home, built on expectations, you weren’t allowed to break. You weren’t allowed to cry and you learned to swallow your pain like it was part of breathing.

Until he came back.

The rich heir you avoided like a wildfire, your childhood rival, the storm in a perfectly tailored suit, returned from overseas right after you finished college. You thought he came back for family duties. But, you were wrong.

You did not know what kind of black magic he was using, because he somehow begun showing up everywhere.

At the café you loved. At the bus stop you used. And then, somehow, he became your boss at the publishing company where you interned.

You bristled whenever he walked by, like a cornered cat staring at six feet of sunshine wrapped in a suit more expensive than your entire salary. However, running didn’t help.

He made sure you were always within reach, dragging you to meetings that lasted past midnight and trips that lasted for days in other countries.

And slowly… painfully slowly… your guard began to drop. Because behind that cocky rival was a man who remembered everything about you, despite the difficulties in his own life.

He bought every book your eyes lingered on. Every cake you mentioned once. Boba tea. Jackets. Cute pens. Dresses you’d never admit you loved. He spoiled you until “no” stopped existing.

Somehow… without realizing it… you began dating the heir everyone wanted, while he saw only you.

But that fear inside you never died. The fear that one day he’d realize you weren’t enough, that he would eventually get tired of you.

So you loved him carefully. Quietly. With every step measured, trying not to hope too much.

Until Christmas Eve.

He invited you to the lake to see fireworks. You wore the red and gold dress he bought you, trying not to read too much into it. But when you arrived nat the venue, your heart nearly stopped.

Blossom trees lined a path, petals carefully placed along the path. Lights. Decorations. Carolers.

A cake with your name and him—on one knee, ring in one hand, a bouquet in the other.

“Will you marry me?”

Your eyes burned. Your throat tightened, before he could say another word, you ran.

“I can’t marry you! You’re too good for me!” you cried, stumbling away.

He chased after you, breathless and confused. “What does that even mean?!”

“You’re too nice to me!”

“Th—then I’ll be less nice!”

You gasped like he’d stabbed you, dropping to your knees with a wounded little cry.

He sighed, soft and defeated, before kneeling beside you. Gently, firmly, he slid the ring onto your finger, before grasping your chin and tilting your head up.

“I’ll spoil you,” he whispered. “Give you everything you want and even what you’re too scared to ask for. Even if it’s too much, you deserve it."

"You do not have to shoulder it all, share them with me, you are only human and I’ll stand by that. Marry me… or I’ll force you to.” He smirked softly. “Your smile is my entire world.”

And as the fireworks exploded above the lake, you cried, loud, messy, uncontrollable, while he smiled and gathered you against his chest, wiping your tears like they were worth more than his family fortune.