Chapter 2: A Morning Promise in the Shower
The first pale threads of dawn crept through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the silk sheets that had tangled around their bodies sometime in the night. Leonid's internal clock—honed by years of early morning classes and part-time jobs—pulled him from sleep with gentle insistence, though every fiber of his being wanted to sink back into the warmth beside him.
Jennie lay curled against his side, her cheek pressed to his chest, one slender leg thrown across his thighs. In sleep, the sharp edges of her usual intensity had softened, and she looked almost fragile, her dark lashes fanned against her cheekbones, her full lips slightly parted. He could feel her breath, slow and even, warm against his skin.
He didn't want to move.
But the clock on the nightstand read 6:03, and his structural analysis seminar started at 8:30. Professor Yoon had already threatened to drop him from the course twice for tardiness, and he couldn't afford to lose this semester. Not when he was so close to finishing.
Not when he wanted so badly to be worthy of the woman sleeping in his arms.
Leonid pressed a careful kiss to the crown of Jennie's head, inhaling the scent of her—coconut oil and something floral, the lingering trace of the expensive perfume she'd dabbed behind her ears last night. She stirred, murmuring something unintelligible, her fingers curling against his chest.
"Shh," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Go back to sleep."
Her grip tightened instead, nails pressing crescents into his skin. Even in sleep, she held on like she was afraid he might disappear.
He waited until her breathing evened out again, then began the painstaking process of extricating himself. Her leg was the first obstacle, and he lifted it with the same care he might use to handle something precious and fragile. Her arm followed, and he held his breath as she shifted, rolling onto her stomach and burrowing her face into his pillow.
The sight of her—naked and vulnerable, the sheet pooling at the small of her back—made his chest ache with something too large to name. He wanted to wake her up, to pull her back into his arms and spend the entire day memorizing the curves and hollows of her body. But he had responsibilities. Deadlines. A future he was building, brick by brick, so that one day he could stand before her as an equal instead of the charity case he'd once been.
He padded across the cold marble floor, gathering his clothes from where they'd been discarded the night before. His phone buzzed on the vanity, reminding him of the studio critique scheduled for Thursday, the site visit on Friday, the group project he'd been neglecting in favor of spent nights tangled in silk sheets.
Not that he regretted a single one.
The bathroom was a cathedral of white marble and soft gold light, the kind of luxury he still wasn't fully accustomed to after two years of spending most nights in this penthouse. His reflection stared back at him from the oversized mirror—dark curls still mussed from sleep, jaw shadowed with stubble, the faint marks of Jennie's nails raked across his shoulder blades.
He turned on the shower, letting the water heat while he brushed his teeth with the spare toothbrush she kept for him in a crystal holder. The gesture had touched him when he'd first noticed it—the way she'd made space for him in her life, in her bathroom, in her bed. Small things, but they added up to something he'd never had before.
Something that felt like home.
The steam filled the enclosed glass shower, fogging the walls until his reflection dissolved into mist. He stepped under the spray, letting the hot water pound against his shoulders, working out the knots from a night spent in positions that would have made a contortionist proud.
He was reaching for the shampoo when the glass door slid open.
Jennie stood in the doorway, naked and sleep-rumpled, her black hair a wild curtain around her shoulders. The golden light from the vanity caught the water droplets beading on her skin, and Leonid felt his throat go dry.
"You're supposed to be sleeping," he managed.
"I woke up." She stepped into the shower, the water immediately slicking her hair to her skull, plastering it to her cheekbones and neck. "You were gone."
"Just for a shower, baby. I have class."
"I know." She moved closer, water streaming down her body, and pressed her palms against his chest. Her skin was warm, slick, and he could feel every point of contact like a brand. "But I wasn't ready to wake up without you."
Leonid's hands found her waist, thumbs tracing the delicate jut of her hip bones. "I'll be back tonight. I promise."
"Tonight is too far away."
Her mouth found his, and any protest he might have formed dissolved into the wet heat of her kiss. She tasted like sleep and toothpaste, and she pressed against him with an urgency that made his head spin.
"Jennie—"
"Don't." Her hands slid down his chest, over his stomach, her fingers trailing through the dark hair that led lower. "Don't tell me you have to go. Not yet. Not right now."
He groaned as her fingers wrapped around him, stroking with practiced precision. "I have—fuck, Jennie—I have a test."
She pulled back, looking up at him through water-heavy lashes. Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, and there was something in them that made his stomach clench. Something hungry. Something desperate.
"Then be late," she whispered. "Be late for me."
The water continued to pour over them, steam curling around their bodies like a cocoon. Leonid's hands tightened on her hips, and he could feel his resolve crumbling like sand.
"If I fail this class—"
"You won't." She pressed a kiss to his collarbone, her lips trailing lower. "You're brilliant, Leonid. You'll pass everything. But right now, I need you."
She sank to her knees on the wet marble floor, looking up at him with those dark, possessive eyes. Water cascaded over her shoulders, her breasts, her upturned face, and she looked like something out of a fever dream.
"Let me take care of you," she murmured, her hand stroking him with agonizing slowness. "Let me show you what you're coming home to."
His head fell back against the tile, a shaky breath escaping his lips. "You're going to make me fail."
"I'm going to make you remember." Her lips brushed his stomach, just above where her hand still stroked him. "I'm going to make sure you think of me all day. Every second of every class. Every time you close your eyes."
She took him into her mouth, and Leonid's entire body went rigid. The water continued to pound against them, steam filling the space until it felt like they were suspended outside of time, outside of the real world with its deadlines and responsibilities and obligations.
He fisted his hand in her wet hair, not pulling, just holding. "Jennie, I—"
She hummed around him, and his knees nearly buckled.
When she finally released him, her lips swollen and her eyes bright, she rose to her feet and pressed her body against his. The water sluiced between them, and he could feel every curve, every soft place where she fit against his harder angles.
"Come home early tonight," she whispered against his mouth. "I'll be waiting."
"I—" He swallowed hard. "I'll try."
"Try harder." Her hand slid between their bodies, guiding him to her entrance. "I need you, Leonid. I need you so much it scares me."
He entered her in one smooth thrust, and they both gasped at the sensation. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed her against the wet tile, her back arching, her nails raking down his shoulders.
"Look at me," she commanded, her voice breathless but sharp. "I want you to look at me while you fuck me."
He did. He looked into those dark, feline eyes, and he saw something there that made his rhythm falter. Something that looked almost like fear.
"Jennie." He slowed, pressing his forehead to hers. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Her smile was too bright, too quick. "Everything's perfect. You're perfect. Just—don't stop. Please don't stop."
He didn't stop. He couldn't. Not when she was looking at him like that, like he was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth. He moved inside her with a rhythm that was as much about comfort as it was about pleasure, and she clung to him like he was the only solid thing in a world gone liquid.
When she came, it was with his name on her lips, a broken, desperate sound that he felt in his bones. He followed moments later, burying his face in her neck as he spilled inside her, her body gripping him tight.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. The water continued to pour, steam curling around their intertwined bodies, and Leonid's heart pounded against hers.
"I love you," she whispered into his skin. "I love you so much."
"I love you too." He pressed a kiss to her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. "Always."
She pulled back, and he saw something flicker in her eyes before she blinked it away. A calculation. A plan.
"Go," she said softly, pressing a kiss to his chest. "Go to your class. I'll be here when you get back."
He wanted to stay. Every instinct screamed at him to stay, to figure out what was going on behind those dark eyes. But the clock was ticking, and he was already going to be late.
He stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel. The cold air hit his skin, and he felt the absence of her warmth like a physical loss.
"Leonid?"
He turned. She was still in the shower, water streaming down her body, and she looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite read.
"Don't forget to use protection tonight," she said, her voice light, casual. "I picked up some new ones. They're in the nightstand."
He frowned. "I thought you said you didn't want—"
"I changed my mind." Her smile was sweet, but her eyes were anything but. "I just want to be safe. That's all."
Something prickled at the back of his neck. "Okay. Yeah. Of course."
He finished drying off, pulling on his clothes with quick, efficient movements. When he looked back, she was still standing in the shower, watching him with those dark, fathomless eyes.
"I'll see you tonight," he said.
"Tonight." She smiled, and for a moment, she looked almost content. Almost at peace. "I'll be counting the minutes."
He grabbed his bag and left, but as the door swung shut behind him, he could have sworn he heard her laugh. Soft. Low. Triumphant.
He shook his head, chalking it up to his imagination, and headed for the elevator.
If he'd lingered just a moment longer, he would have seen Jennie emerge from the shower, water still dripping from her skin, and cross to the vanity. He would have seen her pick up the crumpled pregnancy test she'd hidden behind the perfume bottles, staring at the blank result window with a mixture of hope and desperation.
He would have seen her press it to her chest, her eyes closing, her lips moving in a silent prayer.
But he was already gone, already on his way to class, already unaware of the trap she was so carefully, so lovingly, setting.