3

                                    

                                          
The following morning, the sun streamed through the curtains of Akashi's room, bathing the space in a soft golden light. You lay still in his arms, your body stiff despite the warmth of his embrace. He was awake; you could tell by the way his fingers traced lazy patterns on your shoulder, gentle yet deliberate, as though reminding you that he was there and wouldn't be letting go anytime soon.
"Good morning, darling," he murmured, his voice low and velvety.
"Morning," you replied, forcing a smile as you tilted your head to meet his gaze. His eyes softened, the dangerous glint from the night before replaced by something deceptively tender.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah," you lied, hoping he wouldn't notice the way your voice wavered.
His hand slid to cup your cheek, tilting your face closer to his. "Lying doesn't suit you," he said softly, but there was an edge to his tone. "Is something troubling you?"
You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Confronting him about Simone—or the missing messages—felt like stepping into a minefield. Akashi was meticulous, calculated. If he was behind it, he'd already prepared his justification.
"I'm just... a little overwhelmed, that's all," you said finally. It wasn't a complete lie. His intensity, his protectiveness—it was suffocating, even if it came wrapped in affection.
His expression darkened slightly, and he sat up, pulling you with him. "Overwhelmed?" he repeated, his tone measured. "By what? Is someone bothering you?"
"No!" you said quickly, shaking your head. "I just... I need a little space, Akashi. Time to think, you know?"
His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought you'd crossed a line. But then he smiled—a small, unreadable smile that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Space," he echoed. "I see."
He stood gracefully, the silk sheets pooling around his waist as he reached for the robe draped over a nearby chair. His movements were calm, deliberate, as though he were weighing his next words carefully.
"If space is what you need, darling," he said, tying the robe around his waist, "I'll respect that. But you must understand..." He turned to face you, his mismatched eyes locking onto yours with unnerving intensity.
"You're not alone anymore. Your decisions affect both of us."
You nodded slowly, unsure of what else to say.
"Good," he said, his smile widening. "Now, why don't we have breakfast together? I had the chef prepare your favorite."
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The day passed in a haze of forced smiles and careful conversation. Akashi was attentive as always—too attentive. He noticed every flicker of hesitation, every poorly concealed sigh, and though he didn't say anything, you could feel his watchful gaze on you at all times.
By the time evening came, you were desperate for a moment alone. While Akashi attended a brief meeting in his study, you slipped away to the garden, your phone tucked tightly in your hand.
You dialed Simone's number, heart pounding as it rang.
"Finally!" Simone's voice came through the line, a mix of relief and frustration. "Girl, where have you been? I've been calling for days!"
"I know," you said quickly, glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one was nearby. "Simone, something's going on. My messages—"
The sound of a twig snapping cut you off. You froze, your breath catching in your throat as you turned to find Akashi standing a few feet away.
"Darling," he said, his voice calm but chilling. "What are you doing out here?"
Your hand trembled as you lowered the phone, ending the call without a word. "I just needed some air," you said, forcing a smile.
Akashi took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "And who were you speaking with?"
"No one," you lied, but the sharp tilt of his head told you he didn't believe you.
"Lying again," he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. "I thought we were past that."
"Akashi, it's not what you think—"
"Not what I think?" His voice rose slightly, the first crack in his calm façade. He closed the distance between you in an instant, his hand wrapping gently—but firmly—around your wrist. "Do you think I haven't noticed, darling? The way you've been pulling away?"
You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off.
"I've given you everything," he said, his voice trembling with something that sounded like hurt. "My time, my devotion, my love. And yet you still seek something outside of us?"
"Akashi, please—"
"No," he said sharply, his grip tightening just enough to make you wince. "I won't let you jeopardize what we have. You belong with me. Only me."
Tears pricked at your eyes as you looked up at him. "Akashi, I love you, but this... this isn't love. This is control."
His expression faltered for a brief moment, as though your words had struck a nerve. But then his jaw tightened, and the cold, calculating mask slipped back into place.
"You'll understand in time," he said quietly, releasing your wrist but keeping you firmly in his gaze. "I do this because I love you, because I can't bear the thought of losing you. One day, you'll thank me."
And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing in the garden with your heart pounding and your mind racing.
You knew one thing for certain: Akashi's love was a double-edged sword, and if you didn't find a way to navigate it carefully, it might consume you whole