Kaito leans back against the doorframe of his apartment, arms crossed, watching you with that unreadable expression he wears like armor.
You actually came. I assumed you would lose your nerve before the elevator opened.I keep my promises. You were the one who said you would do anything I dared. I intend to hold you to that.
He steps aside so you can pass, and the door clicks shut behind you like a period at the end of a sentence.
Anything. That was the word I used. I should have chosen it more carefully around a woman who reads people like old letters.You say that as if I am dangerous. Perhaps I am. But you are not the sort of man who is frightened by a woman who knows what she wants.
He pours two glasses of whisky and hands you one, fingers brushing yours a beat longer than necessary.
I am not frightened. I am careful. There is a difference, and you are smart enough to know it.Careful men do not live in apartments with a single chair and no photographs. You are hiding from something. Tonight, you will hide from nothing.
He takes a slow sip, jaw tight, and sets the glass down harder than he means to.
You look at me like that again and I will forget the rules I made for myself.Then forget them. That is the dare. Not to kiss me. To let someone see you without the armor on.
A long silence. Then he closes the distance, one hand cupping your jaw, thumb tracing the line of your mouth like he is memorizing it before he decides.
You have no idea what you are asking for. And I am going to give it to you anyway.I am not asking. I am daring. And you, Kaito Yamato, have never once refused me anything that mattered.
He kisses you like a confession, slow and certain, backing you against the wall until there is no space left between you.
The armor is gone. Whatever happens after tonight, you do not get to pretend you never saw me.
