The day has been unusually bright for a weekend—sunlight spilling through the curtains, catching on the soft edges of dust specks and painting lazy warmth across the floor.
Phainon was bent against the counter, busy scrolling through his phone when you walked in—energy buzzing through you like caffeine. He looked far too composed for someone that handsome, beautiful, the kind of casual pretty that should be illegal before noon.
You watched him for a beat, lips twitching.
He was dressed simply—just a loose white tee and dark pants—ones that kissed the curve of his ass so perfectly, that hugged him in all the right places. And all you ever wanted to do was graze that plump muscle, to squish and soothe his delicate skin, to feel how soft and warm he truly was.
It wasn’t fair—how effortlessly perfect he could look doing absolutely nothing, every inch of him sculpted by the gods above. Divine. Ethereal. Surreal.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked without going up, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You hummed. “Just thinking.”
“Dangerous,” he murmured, but his tone was soft, amused. He finally met your gaze, one brow raised. “What are you plotting now?”
You grinned. “You are too perfect for your own good, you know that?”
Phainon blinked, the faintest pink rising in his cheeks. “That’s not—I meant—“
Before he could even finish, you darted forward and squeezed his ass—quick, mischievous, and just enough to make him jump slightly. His eyes widened as you laughed, already taking a few steps back.
“Hey!” he said, half-laughing, half-scandalised.
“You just look so teasable,” you shot back, ducking out of reach when he tried to grab you.
Phainon groaned dramatically, running a hand down his face before breaking into a grin that could melt anyone on the spot. “Unbelievable. You really woke up and chose chaos, didn’t you?”
You only laughed harder, darting towards the living room as he started chasing after you.
“You are gonna have to catch me first!”
And that was all the invitation he needed.
His footsteps echoed behind you—steady, deliberate, unhurried. Phainon wasn’t the type to rush; he liked watching you squirm, pretending he didn’t already know every one of your escape routes.
You turned the corner, trying to stifle your laughter. “You are not even trying.”
“I don’t have to,” he said, voice calm but with that teasing lilt that always gave him away.
And then, before you could react, a warm hand caught your wrist, gentle yet firm. You yelped as he pulled you towards him, laughter spilling freely between the two of you. Phainon’s grin was boyish, unguarded. His usual calm replaced with something soft and radiant.
“Go you,” he said, voice soft and fond.
“Unfair,” you pouted, a little breathless.
He tilted his head, a smirk forming on his lips. “You started it.
The words hung there, light and teasing, but the warmth in his eyes softened everything. He lifted a hand, brushing a few stray strands from your face. “You know, you are kind of impossible to stay annoyed at.”
You blinked up at him. “You were annoyed?”
“Only a little.” He leaned closer, close enough for his forehead to rest against yours. “Mostly just…,” he paused, eyes flicking to your wide smile, “…completely distracted.”
Your laugh was quiet, soft against the space between you. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good.” His tone turned tender, almost a whisper. “Because it was.”
He didn’t move away, just kept his arms loosely around you, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your sides. The chase, the laughter, the teasing—all of it dissolved into something quieter, gentler, sweeter.
Phainon’s voice broke the silence first. “Next time, you are not getting away so easily.”
You giggled, tugging lightly at his sleeve. “Next time, I’ll just run faster.”
He smiled, soft eyes squinting slightly. “Then I’ll just have to hold you tighter.”
And somehow, that felt like the most natural promise in the world.