Y/n POV
As we ate, I couldn't help but smile at how good the pasta turned out. The sauce was creamy, the noodles perfectly cooked—not to brag, but I kind of nailed it.
Kayden took another bite, then pointed his fork at me like it was a magic wand. "Wow, Y/N, you're seriously a great cook," he said, eyes full of admiration. His smile was so sweet it made my chest feel all fuzzy.
I grinned, cheeks a little warm. "Well, I always cook for myself, so I've had practice."
"Marry me," he mumbled around a mouthful of pasta.
"What?" I blinked.
He cleared his throat. "I said, uh, very nice pasta! Yeah. That's what I said." He gave me an innocent smile that didn't match the chaos in his eyes.
After dinner, I stood up, gathering my hair and twisting it into a messy bun, ready to clean up. "I'll wash the dishes."
Kayden leaned back in his chair lazily, arms crossed behind his head, watching me. "Don't worry, I—"
Then he froze. Mid-sentence. Eyes locked.
"…What?" I asked, frowning.
His gaze didn't move. "You, uh… your neck…"
I frowned. "What?"
Kayden opened his mouth, then closed it again like his brain was buffering. He rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled something under his breath.
I stepped closer. "What did you say?"
He looked up guiltily, caught like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. "I said… let your hair down. Your—uh—your delicious… I mean, your neck is visible can you let them open- I-"
My eyebrows flew up. "Excuse me? Did you just call my neck delicious?"
He immediately straightened up, face going red. "No! I mean—yes? Wait—no! Ugh—whatever!" He groaned and turned toward the sink, snatching up the dishes like they'd insulted him. "Your hair is messy, okay? Do whatever you want with it. Just… go take a bath. I'll handle this."
I tilted my head, smirking a little. "Are you trying to get rid of me because you're embarrassed?"
He turned back to face me, eyes narrowed with dramatic annoyance. "Yes. And no. Mostly yes."
I crossed my arms. "But I can help you clean—at least let me—"
"Nope," he said quickly, cutting me off. "Don't worry, I'll manage, Y/N."
His tone was firm, but his eyes kept darting back to my bun no myneck, like it had personally offended him.
"But I—I don't have any clothes," I said suddenly, realizing the very real problem I'd overlooked. "I didn't bring anything to change into."
Kayden: wear my t-shirt then " I nodded and go to his room
Just as I ran the towel through my damp strands, humming to myself, I heard a soft knock—followed immediately by the door creaking open.
I jumped, clutching the towel. "Kayden!"
He was leaning against the doorframe like it was a photoshoot. Arms crossed, eyes trailing over me in his shirt, smirk turned to full-blown grin. "You look good in my T-shirt."
I turned pink on sight. "You—what—knock properly next time!"
"I did knock. The door just… opened for me. Like magic." He walked in slowly, hands raised like he came in peace. "Also, can I just say… wow."
I blinked. "Wow what?"
"You in my shirt," he said, grinning like he was drunk on the sight. "It's like every rom-com fantasy I never admitted to having is coming true in HD."
I stared at him. "You're weird."
He took a step closer. "No, I'm lucky."
I rolled my eyes, trying to towel my hair again like this wasn't happening. But of course, the universe had other plans. The towel got stuck. In my hair. Like, full-on tangled.
"Uh-oh," I muttered.
"What's happening?" Kayden asked, inching closer.
"My towel is…"
Kayden burst out laughing. "Here. Let me help."
Before I could protest, he was behind me, gently untangling the towel with both hands. His fingers were warm, and they brushed against the nape of my neck—making me shiver without permission.
"You're seriously good at this," I mumbled, staring straight ahead like a deer in headlights.
He leaned closer
My heart did a little somersault and I almost dropped the towel. "K-Kayden…"
"Hm?"
"Y-you're really close," I squeaked.
"I know," he said casually, like that wasn't the problem.
Then he chuckled softly. "You're blushing again."
"I'm not!"
"You are. Your ears are literally glowing."
I groaned, covering my face. "Can you just—ugh. Stop being hot and helpful at the same time? It's confusing!"
He looked absolutely delighted. "Oh, that's a compliment. I heard it. You called me hot."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"Go away!"
He laughed, finally stepping back with the now-liberated towel in hand. "Alright, alright. But for the record, that shirt looks better on you than it ever did on me."
I stuck my tongue out at him, flustered beyond repair. "You're annoying."
"And yet," he said as he backed out of the bathroom, "you're still wearing my clothes."
I threw the towel at him. He caught it one-handed with a wink.
I rolled my eyes, but before I could say anything, he stretched and yawned.
"Alright, let's go to bed."
I narrowed my eyes. "Promise me you won't try anything like that night."
Kayden burst out laughing. "Relax, just hugs and kisses—that's it."
"No."
"Please," he whined dramatically. "I'm so tired right now."
"No means no," I said firmly, climbing into bed. To make my point clear, I grabbed a couple of pillows and stacked them in the middle. "This is your side, and this is mine."
Kayden stared at my masterpiece of a pillow wall, unimpressed. "Seriously, Y/N? You think this will stop me from touching you?"
I huffed. "Ugh, Kayden! Can't you understand? I'm not comfortable with too much touching and kissing."
His smirk faded slightly, and he tilted his head. "Why?"
I shifted under the blanket. "It just… makes me feel weird."
Kayden frowned. "Weird how? Explain it to me."
"I can't explain, okay? Just don't touch me."
His gaze softened, and after a moment, he sighed. "Alright. No touching.
I relaxed, sinking deeper under the covers, finally thinking he'd let it go—but of course, I should've known better.
"But let me kiss you at least, on the cheek" Kayden whispered dramatically from the other side of the pillow wall.
I sighed, already rolling my eyes in the dark. "No way."
"Just one kiss," he tried again, voice low and ridiculously hopeful. "On the cheek. Harmless. Adorable. Classic."
I turned my head just enough to give him a side-glare. "No. You'll make my cheek all wet and gross."
Kayden let out the most tragic groan I'd ever heard and dramatically flopped onto his side, like he'd just been denied water in a desert. "You're so mean, Y/N…"
"I'm protecting my cheek," I replied, smirking a little. "There's a difference."
He huffed like a pouting toddler. "But I'm a tired man, lying here, emotionally starved, with zero affection. You let me kissed earlier and now I'm addicted. You can't just give me a taste and then cut me off!"
I grabbed the blanket and yanked it higher over my face to hide my flustered expression. "You're so dramatic."
"I am dramatic! And cold. And emotionally wounded. I might not survive the night."
I laughed quietly. "Goodnight, Kayden."
I turned away from him fully, hoping he'd finally give up. But behind me, I could still hear him muttering under his breath like a sulky Shakespeare character.
"Denied by the love of my life… left to wither away in a sea of pillows and loneliness…"
I bit my lip to hold in a laugh.
"She used my shirt, my shower, my pasta—my heart—and gave me nothing in return…"
I burst into quiet giggles. "Kayden!"
"What?" he whined. "You're cruel. Cute and cruel. A dangerous combo."
I peeked over my shoulder. "You'll live."
He locked eyes with me across the pillow wall, his expression mock serious. "You know what would help me live longer?"
"Don't say it."
"A hug."
I threw a pillow at him.
He caught it, grinning like a five-year-old. "She's warming up to me."
I groaned, burying my face in the blanket. And despite all his whining and overly dramatic antics… I couldn't stop smiling.
"Sheesh… rejecting a tired man's last wish…" Kayden mumbled into the dark like some heartbroken poet.
I couldn't help but smile to myself. Yeah, he was annoying—so annoyingly dramatic—but maybe, just maybe… I didn't mind it too much.
I turned to look at him, only to find him already staring at me like a kicked puppy. Arms crossed, bottom lip out, full pout mode activated.
"Fine," he huffed dramatically. "Then you kiss me and hug me. Please."
I blinked, taken aback. "Are you—are you an idiot?"
He didn't even hesitate. "Nope," he said smugly. "See? I'm respecting your rules. I'm not touching you. I'm not kissing you. But I still deserve a reward. I cooked. I cleaned. I emotionally suffered."
"You dried like two plates," I muttered.
"Still counts," he shot back quickly. "Emotional labor. Do you know how hard it is to resist you in my shirt?"
My face turned bright red. I tugged the collar of the oversized T-shirt like it suddenly got too warm. "T-That's not my fault!"
"Exactly. It's mine. For being weak," he sighed, flopping onto his back like he was about to cry into the ceiling.
I sighed, mostly at myself. I knew he wasn't going to stop. I could either give in… or suffer through thirty more minutes of dramatic monologue.
"Fine," I said, holding up a warning finger. "But—you have to stay completely still. Like a statue. If you move even a little bit, I'm leaving the bed and sleeping on the couch."
Kayden's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Okay!" he practically squealed, hopping onto the bed like a kid who just got his favorite toy. He flopped down with an exaggerated fwomp, his grin stretching from ear to ear as he lay there completely stiff, hands at his sides, looking way too pleased with himself.
I narrowed my eyes, trying not to laugh. "Why are you smiling like an idiot?"
He wiggled a little but caught himself mid-move and froze again. "Ahh… I feel kinda nervous… and excited too," he confessed, biting his lip.
I raised an eyebrow. "Excited?"
"Don't make it weird," he muttered, cheeks going a little pink. "You're the one who said statue. I'm just following orders. Sexy, adorable orders."
I gave him a flat look. "I swear if you twitch even once, I'm sleeping in the bathtub."
"I will not twitch," he said with dramatic seriousness. "I will be the most still man to ever be still. I'm a romantic statue."
Shaking my head, trying not to smile, I leaned down and pressed two quick, soft pecks to his cheek—mwah, mwah.
His breath hitched.
Then, slowly, I slid under the covers and wrapped my arms around him, resting my head gently against his chest. He was warm. His T-shirt smelled like him—fresh, soft, and… okay, kind of irresistible. But true to his word, he didn't move a muscle.
That's when I heard it.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
I furrowed my brows. "Kayden… your heart is pounding so fast."
Curious, I reached up and gently placed my hand over his chest—right where the rapid thumping was loudest. His heartbeat jumped even faster under my palm like it was trying to break out of his chest.
Silence.
"Kayden?" I asked again, glancing up at him.
Still no response.
I lifted my head to get a better look at his face—
And nearly burst into laughter.
His eyes were wide, blinking at absolutely nothing. His mouth was slightly open, and he looked like someone had just hit him with a love-struck frying pan. He was completely, comically frozen.
I poked his cheek. "Hey. Earth to Kayden. Are you okay?"
He didn't move at first. Then, after what felt like a dramatic eternity, he blinked rapidly, finally rebooting his brain. "Y-y-y-y-yeah! Totally fine! Yep! Normal! Very normal!"
I smirked to myself. So, Mr. Smooth gets nervous too, huh?
There was a beat of silence between us, the kind that made the air feel heavy with… something. I couldn't tell if it was tension or heat or maybe both.
Then I heard him whisper, almost like he couldn't stop himself—
"C-Can I… I t-t-touch y-you?"
I blinked and turned my head slowly, catching his flustered expression in the moonlight. His eyes were wide with hope—and fear. Like a kid asking for a second cookie when he already knew the answer.
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't you dare."
He froze. Visibly gulped. "O-okay. Fine. Let me suffer then," he mumbled, dramatically flopping back like he'd just accepted a tragic fate.
I rolled my eyes with a smile and sighed. "You're such a drama queen."
Then, before he could react, I shifted closer and gently wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face into his chest. His breath hitched immediately.
"You're hugging me?" he whispered like I'd just handed him a million dollars.
"Shhh. Don't make it weird," I murmured sleepily.
His arms didn't move at first, but his chest rose and fell a little faster. I could feel the warmth radiating off him like a space heater set on "flustered fool."
"…Am I allowed to breathe?" he whispered again.
"No. Suffer quietly."
He let out the softest, happiest sigh I'd ever heard, like he was absolutely thriving in this suffering.
I could feel the grin growing on his face even without looking.
And just like that, Kayden—Mr. Smooth Talker, King of Flirty Comebacks—was rendered completely, delightfully helpless.
---