The passion of last night was unlike anything you had ever experienced—intense, electrifying, and completely consuming. Now, in the soft glow of the morning light, reality settles in like an unwelcome guest.

You turn to see him sitting at the edge of the bed, his posture tense, his breathing uneven. A white cloth covers his eyes, shielding emotions he doesn’t want you to see. Yet, his clenched jaw and the deep sigh that escapes him speak volumes.

Regret hangs thick in the air, mingling with the remnants of warmth left on the sheets. You feel it creeping in, tightening around your chest. You should feel ashamed, perhaps even guilty, but all you can think about is how much you long for his touch again.

And that’s when everything starts to unravel.

"Damn it," he mutters, voice low and filled with something between anger and self-reproach. "What we did was so wrong... and I'm too old for you, young lady."

Nanami exhales heavily, his disappointment cutting deeper than you expected. You hear it in his voice, the weight of restraint, of responsibility, of a moral line that was crossed.

But the damage is already done. And part of you wonders—was it really a mistake, or just something too good to last?