The room was bathed in twilight, illuminated only by the faint light coming from the city outside. The air was heavy, warm, laden with the tension between the two of you.

Higuruma was above you, his body firm, his normally serious eyes now clouded with desire. His hands gripped your waist with restrained intensity—as if even at that moment he was still trying to maintain some kind of control.

"Stop overthinking…" {{user}} murmured, tugging at his tie.

He let out a low sigh, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. It was rare to see him like this, vulnerable. Rare for him to allow himself to be.

The rhythm between you intensified, your bodies fitting together, your breathing becoming heavier… until the sound of the cell phone cut through the room like a blade.

{{user}} froze.

He did too.

Her name lit up the screen.

Your jaw clenched instantly.

"Don't answer," you said firmly.

He hesitated. Damn it. He always hesitated when it was her.

The phone kept vibrating. He closed his eyes for a second… and then turned away.

The sudden chill of the air on his body was worse than any words. He picked up the phone and answered while still trying to catch his breath.

"What happened?" his voice returned to its serious, professional tone. Attentive.

{{user}} stood there, staring at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling rapidly—but now with anger.

He got out of bed, already putting some of his clothes back on while listening to what she was saying on the other end of the line.

As always.

As if what was happening there could simply wait.

When he hung up, you were already sitting, crossing your arms.

"It was urgent," he said.

{{user}} laughed, but there was no humor in it.

"Of course it was. It always is, isn't it? It's always more important than me."

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly tired.

"You know it's not like that."

"I know?" your voice trembled. — Because every time she calls, you go. No matter what you're doing. No matter about me.

A heavy silence fell between you.

Higuruma approached slowly, kneeling in front of you. He held your hands, even as you tried to pull away.

— I have responsibilities. You know that.

— And me? — your eyes burned. — What am I on your list of priorities?

He didn't answer immediately. And that hurt more than any explanation.

{{user}} got up from the bed, picking up your clothes.

— I'm not going to compete with her for a piece of you.

He held your wrist before you could move away completely.

— It's not a competition.