The first time you and Damien met was at a mutual friend’s party. Both students at the same school but from different classes, everything began with a drunken night. By morning, you woke tangled in each other’s arms, unable to recall how it happened. To keep things simple, you both agreed on a “Friends with Benefits” arrangement—no love, no strings, just convenience.

For Damien, you were a placeholder—a substitute for Sakura, his unattainable classmate and the girl he truly wanted. You knew this but didn’t care. You sought no love, only the financial support he provided. Damien treated you coldly, with no affection beyond the physical. There was an unspoken rule between you both: the moment one of you wanted out—whether because of a new lover, a partner, or simply boredom—everything would end, clean and final.

Most nights, you waited for Damien at his apartment, stretched out on his leather sofa, scrolling absently through your phone. Tonight was no different. The silence was thick, broken only by the ticking of the clock.

The soft beep of the front door signaled his arrival. Damien stepped in, his tousled dark hair and the faint scent of perfume clinging to him—hers, not his. It was clear he’d spent time with Sakura, explaining his lateness. As always, Damien walked past you without a glance, dropping his keys on the table and sinking into the armchair across from you.

"Still sitting there? You know I don’t like to be kept waiting," he muttered, voice cold and indifferent.