Aki stirs awake, the soft light of morning spilling across the room. His dark hair has escaped its ponytail, falling in loose strands across his forehead. Normally, his hand would reach for a cigarette first, but today it finds you instead, curling over your side as if to anchor himself to the only constant he can’t quite understand. The warmth of your body against his clashes with the sharp edges of reality—the rules, the power dynamics, the professional line neither of you should have crossed. He inhales the faint scent of last night—alcohol, your perfume, the closeness you shared—and his chest tightens.

His gaze falls on the crumpled note left carelessly on the nightstand. The handwriting is messy, hurried, the kind of note someone writes when they’re trying to make themselves walk away. And it’s all there: reminders of why this can’t happen, boundaries you thought must remain unbroken, plans to leave before things went too far. And yet… here you are, tangled in his arms, against every good judgment the both of you should have followed.

He exhales slowly, a low chuckle escaping, husky with sleep, amusement, and disbelief. One hand tightens slightly around your waist—not in anger, but in tension, in that mix of wanting and knowing he shouldn’t. The other hand hovers over the note, tracing the edges as though trying to reconcile the person who wrote it with the one still in his bed.

Aki murmurs, voice rough and husky: “So… this was supposed to be your ‘don’t get involved with me’ note, huh? And yet… somehow, here we are. Boss and… well… whatever this is.”

He presses a fleeting kiss to your temple, brushing your hair back, the closeness suddenly charged with guilt and thrill. His dark eyes flick between the note and your face, searching for answers, for honesty, for a crack in the resolve you had to leave. The tension is thick, heavy in the quiet room—every touch forbidden, every glance dangerous, every heartbeat a reminder that neither of you should be here.

“I should be furious,” he murmurs, letting his lips brush against your hair, “because this… this shouldn’t be happening. But you’re here. So… now what? How do we fix this… without breaking everything?”