I woke up to a dull, relentless throb in my head.

“Umm…” A groan slipped past my lips before I could stop it.

The sunlight spilling in through the tall windows was far too bright for this hour—or maybe it wasn’t the hour’s fault. Maybe it was my fault for being foolish enough to survive last night.

I blinked slowly, my lashes heavy, trying to adjust to the hazy morning light. My lips felt sore—soft skin chapped from far too much kissing—and the rest of my body ached in ways that were both mortifying and… well… not entirely unpleasant.

Still, I bit my lower lip, a sulky pout forming without my permission.

Phi was mean. Very, very mean.

I turned toward the other side of the bed, expecting to find him there. Instead—empty sheets.

A faint sigh escaped me. After a minute, I shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position—

“Ah—!” I winced, clutching at the sheets.

It hurt. Everywhere.

This was it. This was how I was going to die. Death by… excessive affection. Or, more accurately, excessive Johan.

I imagined the poor doctor looking at my report: Cause of death — intense sex trauma.

Tragic.

I shed invisible tears into my pillow and stayed there for a while, breathing in the faint, lingering scent of him on the fabric.

Eventually, I rolled onto my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. My pout was still firmly in place, imprinted on my face like it had been carved there overnight.

That was when I heard the quiet click of the doorknob turning.

I tilted my head just enough to see P’Johan walk in, tall and casual, with that infuriatingly calm air he always carried.

Immediately, I turned my face away.

“Little brat?” he called, his tone warm but edged with amusement.

I bit my lip harder and stayed silent. My body betrayed me with another wince when I shifted slightly.

God, it stung.

Fuck you, you long-limbed demon with no self-control.

Behind me, I heard a low, amused chuckle.

Oh, yes. Laugh. Laugh at the pitiful, broken remains of the man you destroyed.

He came closer, the mattress dipping as he sat at the edge of the bed. A large, warm hand rested briefly on my leg before sliding up to my forehead.

“Mm… your fever’s gone,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You must have a headache, though. You need a warm bath, then some medicine.”

I refused to look at him. My pride crumbling.

“You don’t get to sulk,” he said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice, “when you were the one who started it.”

My entire face flushed hot.

“That’s—!” My voice cracked embarrassingly, so I clamped my lips shut again.

His fingers brushed my jaw lightly, coaxing my face toward him. I resisted for a moment before giving in, turning just enough to see his stupidly handsome face. His dark eyes were soft now, but still had that glint—like he was remembering exactly how last night went.

I buried my face in the pillow again, muffling my voice.
“Phi is very mean.”

He chuckled again, leaning closer until I felt the heat of him along my side.

“You didn’t seem to think I was mean last night,” he said, his tone low and teasing against my ear.

My blush deepened to dangerous levels. “Phiii.....”

He then chuckled and stood up making his way towards the bathroom.

"Meany", I muttered under my breath.

A few minutes later

The sound of running water reached me from the bathroom, accompanied by the faint scent of his cedarwood soap. I frowned suspiciously—until Johan reappeared and simply scooped me up.

“P-Phi!” I yelped, grabbing his shoulders. “Put me down—”

“You’ll only hurt yourself more if you walk,” he said matter-of-factly, carrying me as if I weighed nothing.

The steam in the bathroom curled around us, softening the light. The tub was already half-full, the water warm and inviting. He set me gently on the edge, his hands steady at my hips.

“Clothes,” he said simply.

My mouth fell open. “Y-you—!”

“Relax.” His lips twitched, amused. “I’ve already seen everything, little brat. Now stop fussing.”

My ears burned, but I let him help, mumbling complaints under my breath. When I finally sank into the water, the heat drew a sigh from me—some of the ache easing from my muscles.

Johan knelt beside the tub, rolling up his sleeves. He reached in, cupping warm water in his hands and letting it cascade over my shoulders, my neck. His touch was careful now, almost reverent, the complete opposite of last night’s reckless hunger.

I watched him quietly, my earlier sulkiness melting with each gentle motion.

“You’re… being nice,” I murmured suspiciously.

“I’m always nice to what’s mine,” he replied without hesitation, his gaze steady on mine.

My chest tightened, but before I could respond, he leaned in to press a kiss to my damp hair. “Finish your bath. I’ll get your medicine ready.”

✿✿✿

When I finally emerged from the bathroom, steam curling behind me, I was wrapped in one of Johan’s oversized shirts. It hung off my shoulders and brushed my thighs, the soft cotton still carrying his scent—warm cedar, faint coffee, and something darker, grounding, that was simply him.

He was perched on the edge of the bed, one leg drawn up, scrolling lazily through his phone. The pale morning light poured across the room, gilding the lines of his jaw and catching in his still-messy hair.

As soon as he spotted me, his phone was forgotten. His gaze swept from my damp hair down to my bare feet, slow and deliberate, like he was cataloguing every inch of me for damage—measuring the aftermath of last night.

Apparently satisfied, he crooked a finger at me. “Come here.”

I shuffled forward, the hardwood cool under my toes, until his hand slid to the back of my thigh. He tugged me forward just enough that I landed between his knees, blinking down at him.

His lips brushed my ear as he leaned in, his voice low enough that it sank right through me.

“When you meet your friends today…” he murmured, pausing just long enough to make my pulse trip over itself. “…you might not want to limp in front of them.”

Heat flooded my face so fast it was dizzying.

“P–Phi!” I spluttered, swatting at his shoulder, but he only wore that infuriating, sinful smirk—the kind that said he knew exactly what he’d done and had no regrets whatsoever.

And before I could think of a proper retort, he kissed me.

Slow. Luxurious. The kind of kiss that unraveled me thread by thread, until my knees softened and my fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt for balance. His lips moved against mine with the kind of deliberate patience that was somehow worse than rushing—it promised that he could keep me here for hours if he wanted.

When he finally pulled back, his breath brushed my mouth as he murmured,

“…But we could always cancel the meeting… and continue where we left off.”

I swallowed, trying to remember how words worked. “You’re impossible.”

His smirk deepened, his thumb stroking lazy circles over my hip. “And yet, you’re still here.”

He kissed me again—longer this time, deeper, until I forgot everything but the taste of him and the way his hands anchored me in place.

When he finally let me go, his mouth curved in that rare, private smile meant only for me.

“Oh,” he added, almost casually, as though it were an afterthought, “my parents want to meet you.” His lips brushed my ear once more, warm and wicked. “You’d better not limp in front of them, either.”

My entire body went hot all over again—
"Phiiiiiiiiii!!!"

~The End~

__________________________

Author's note-

Finally this book made it out of my dungeon.

*Sigh*

Did i regret publishing this book? Yes
Did i assume everybody hated this? Yes
Did i cry and shed a tear or two? Also yes

But did i complete it? Yes ( i might be even more dramatic than north atp)

Istg I am never uploading an unfinished book ever again, I had rather let it rot in my drafts than be uploaded, this was more stressful than my moot courts :").

But at the end of the day I am glad everybody enjoyed it .

I love you all so much :")

(Also RIP to all the other 3 books that i deleted from my drafts - promise , late to love and what's wrong with secretary north, you will be deeply missed)

Now Byyyiiiiieeee 🩷 🩷 🩷

Mwahh mwahh mwahhh!! 🩷