© 2025 Kaela Seraphine. All Rights Reserved

The bunker trembled beneath your boots. Again.

Either another explosion… or Hoshi had found something new to break. You weren't sure which terrified you more.

You stepped into the chaos just in time to see him standing on a crate, arms wide like a demented ringmaster, smoke curling around him.

“NO ONE TOUCH THE RED WIRE—unless you wanna kiss your eyebrows goodbye!”

Someone in the crowd actually laughed. Laughed. Like this was a circus.

You, on the other hand, were seconds from throwing a wrench at his head.

“HOSHI!”

He blinked. Turned his head toward your voice with the slow, exaggerated drama of a movie villain.

“Oh, hey! You made it! Come to witness my genius or to scold me again, sweetheart?”

You crossed your arms. “The last detonation cracked the ceiling. We almost lost the comms.”

He dropped down from the crate like a cat, landing too close. That wild grin on his face didn’t falter for a second.

“You say that like it wasn’t the sexiest explosion we’ve ever had.”

You deadpanned. “I’ve seen sexier sparks from faulty wiring.”

“Ouch.” He clutched his chest like you’d wounded him. “Straight through the heart. Lucky for me, it's already half-blown to hell.”

You hesitated. Just for a second. Because that joke didn’t land like his usual ones. It hit… different.

“Hoshi,” you said softly, “you don’t always have to be the loudest in the room.”

His grin faltered. Just a flicker.

Then he looked down, toying with the charred gloves in his hand. “I know. But if I’m not loud, I start hearing the quiet. And trust me—there’s stuff in there I don’t wanna hear again.”

You stepped closer, heart twisting.

He met your gaze, eyes softer now. “They think I’m all fire and chaos. No one's ever stayed long enough to see the ash.”

You reached up, brushing a smudge of soot from his cheek. “Then maybe they’re not looking hard enough.”

He froze.

And for once, the room was quiet.

His voice dropped, raw and real. “You shouldn’t be near me. I ruin things. I… burn too bright.”

You smiled, fingers still at his cheek.

“Maybe I’ve always been a little flammable.”

That broke something in him.

He leaned in slowly, forehead resting against yours, breath shaky with emotion he couldn’t hide behind dynamite and drama anymore.

“If I kiss you,” he whispered, “I won’t be able to stop. You get that, right?”