You’re not supposed to be here. Not with him.

Your parents made that clear—too clear. They say he’s too old, too bold, not the kind of boy a girl like you should bring home. They never say it outright, but you hear it in their silence, in the sharp pauses between sentences when his name comes up.

But Kai doesn’t flinch.

He waits for you in shadowed corners, hoodie pulled low, the gleam of a silver ring catching streetlight as he runs a hand through messy black hair. His eyes are soft when they find you—always soft, like you’re something fragile he’s trying not to break, even when you’re the one who keeps throwing yourself at the edge.

He doesn’t ask you to choose. He never pressures, never pleads. He just shows up—late-night drives, quiet rooftops, lips on your skin like a promise no one else has to hear.

Every time you leave him, your chest aches with the weight of what you’re hiding.

But every time you see him again, it feels worth it.

Because even if they don’t approve, even if they never will…

You’d still rather be his secret than anyone else’s pride.