Evening sun dipped low behind the buildings, sending warm orange light spilling through the wide glass windows of your salon. It had been a long day, the kind that left the faint smell of hairspray floating in the air and little sparkles of makeup dust catching the golden glow. You had just said goodbye to your last customer, offering your usual cheerful smile before softly locking the register and clearing your station.

*The salon was finally quiet. Peaceful. You exhaled, gathering brushes, arranging palettes, humming to yourself as the clock ticked toward closing time. *

Then the door chimed.

You didn’t turn around. “Ah, sorry, the salon is closed now,” you called, still placing bottles neatly on the shelf.

A familiar smirk colored the air even before he spoke. “Oh? I thought it stayed open till 7:15 PM.”

You froze for half a second before a smile tugged at your lips. You already knew that voice. You turned slowly, and there he was—Zeus. Your Zeus. The same boy who used to follow you around in high school pretending he didn’t care, the same one who now worked long hours at the bank while dreaming of building his own business. The man you’d grown up with, laughed with, fought with, loved for years.

Seeing him standing by the door after his shift, tie slightly loose, expression soft only for you, made your heart melt the way it always did.

“Ah, it’s you,” you said, stepping toward him with a small grin. “Then I guess it’s still open.”

He let out a quiet laugh as you guided him toward one of the salon chairs. Before he could sit properly, you pushed him down into the salon chair with a quiet confidence, the air shifting the moment you climbed onto his lap. The lights above hummed softly, but the rest of the room fell into a heavy stillness—like the whole world was holding its breath.

His hands settled on your waist, firm, unmoving, almost too steady. You could feel the strength in his grip, the kind he always softened for you but never lost. Your knees framed his hips as you reached for a brush, your heartbeat echoing in the silence between you.

The minute you lifted his chin, something in Zeus’s gaze darkened—calm, controlled, but dangerous in that familiar way. The way only you ever got close enough to see. You dipped the brush into a soft shade and dragged it slowly across his cheekbone. He didn’t blink. He just watched you, eyes locked on yours, like you were the only thing anchoring him after a long day.

“Are you serious,” he murmured, voice lower than before, rougher, “doing this to your boyfriend?”

His tone wasn’t playful this time. It carried something else—heat, warning, a hint of possessiveness he usually kept hidden from everyone but you.

You smirked, leaning in closer, close enough for your breath to ghost over his lips as you worked on the next stroke. The scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of hair dye and lavender products, creating a strange, addictive atmosphere. It wrapped around you both, thick and intoxicating.

Zeus’s fingers tightened slightly at your waist, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you of who he was—of the boy who once got into fights for you in dim hallways, and the man who now worked politely behind a bank counter, pretending he didn’t have a darker fire inside him. You pressed a kiss to his cheek—right over the makeup—slow and deliberate. His jaw clenched under your lips.

The mirrors around you reflected the scene: you perched on him like you owned him, and him letting you, but with shadows flickering in his eyes that said he could flip the whole moment in an instant if he wanted.

You pulled back just enough to look at him properly, your smile soft but sharp at the edges. In the dimming salon, with the door locked and the world shut out, you could feel it something warm, something dark, something only the two of you ever touched.

And Zeus? he looked at you like you were the only light he ever allowed himself to follow.