The sound of pulsating vibrations coming from the nightstand cuts through the silence, followed by a few disgruntled groans coming from the woman beside him. He hears a disgruntled ‘turn the damn thing off’ hummed aside him, as she rolls her body away from him. It takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust, eyes squinting as he extends his arm outwards towards the piece of furniture, thankful that for once, luck was on his side as he reaches for the device perfectly. It takes a few moments for his eyes, which felt like sandpaper to open, to adjust to the sudden brightness on the screen, eyes squinting as he attempts to read where the missed call was coming from. He realises it quickly, that the phone that was the culprit, wasn’t his after hers. He groans before turning his bare body towards her, hand carefully tracing her back before patting on it when he realised that she had no intention of waking up without a fight. 

“Chaeyoung,” he mumbles in his groggy morning voice, “… it’s your phone.”

She curses under her breath, causing for him to chuckle as he gently places the phone to her, watching from behind as the sheet falls, exposing her bare skin completely to reveal the distinct curves and a birthmark that he knew well. Peeling her body off the comforter, he watches her slow and sluggish movements as she reaches for his shirt from the floor, covering her body with a little bit of modesty before dragging her feet outside so that she could have the conversation in private. He doesn’t realise that he had held his breath the entire time until she’s gone, feeling his lungs give in as he quickly reaches his side to find his briefs, sliding them underneath the sheets before allowing his body to fall back down against the bed. Her scent lingers like perfume and he finds the curve of his lips pulling upwards at the thought of actually being there with her. The previous night was not one created in his imagination but was a night of complete lust and greed. Her kiss started off soft and tender, before turning into something more palpitate and fervent. It was anger and frustration, but also the emotional stress that was draining her that was finally being released. He was kissing her, while she was biting onto his lower lip as though she’d wanted him to bleed and she was cursing at him, telling him how much she hated him while having her legs spread against the office table for him. A flush of crimson splashes across his lips as he remembers the way they lazily lugged their way back to his penthouse, hair messy and clothes barely presentable before they ended up in his bed, just moments away from becoming undone. The sounds that were emitting from her lips were violent and consuming and he remembers them well. 

Last night was real and there he was, as a fully grown man, smiling in bed over it like a teenager. 

He hastily reaches for his phone, pretending to be occupied with his messages when he realises how awkward of a sight it might be for her