Lily staggered back, breath shallow and uneven, her heels scraping against the rough pavement of the alley. She had only come out to celebrate.
Her first photoshoot—the one she dreamed of for years—had finally been published.
Champagne, compliments, laughter with a few new industry friends. That's all it was supposed to be.
But now?
The alley was darker than it looked from the street. The two men—strangers—had followed her after she got separated, their breath reeking of cheap liquor, their grins heavy with intent. The quiet streets around the club offered no witnesses, no guards.
Her voice was hoarse. She had already screamed twice.
And now, trembling and cornered, she couldn't even lift her arms properly.
When the taller man stepped forward, she forced out one final cry, her throat raw—
"HELP!"
And then—
> "Stop."
A voice. Calm, but commanding.
Lily blinked through her tears.
Someone had stepped into the alley's mouth.
Reyan.
She didn't know who he was. But in that moment, with his hands clenched and posture rigid, he looked like the only real thing in her spinning, broken night.
Her knight.
He didn't even look at her.
His eyes were fixed on the two men, now turning toward him with annoyed, drunken scowls.
One of them muttered, "Who the hell—"
Reyan didn't wait for the conversation.
He ran forward.
A fist collided with the nearest man's jaw. The second tried to swing, but Reyan ducked low and swept his leg. They hit the ground in a tangle, groaning.
But it wasn't over.
Reyan didn't hold back. Kicks, punches, knees. It was raw, messy, untrained—but furious.
They landed a few hits. One split his lip. Another bruised his side.
But 3 minutes later, both men lay groaning and half-unconscious on the cold ground.
Reyan dropped to one knee, panting hard, sweat glistening down his temple. Blood trickled from his lip. His knuckles were scraped.
He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and turned toward her.
Lily was still standing where he had first seen her—eyes wide, breath caught, clutching her purse like a lifeline.
She looked like she was watching the final scene of a movie.
Reyan took a breath and stood.
"Hey," he said, voice low but steady, "Are you okay? Do you live near here?"
Lily didn't answer.
Instead, she stepped forward, grabbed his collar with both trembling hands—and kissed him.
Reyan froze, wide-eyed.
Her lips were soft, desperate, and warm from the alcohol. She clung to him like she would collapse otherwise.
> [Optional Emotional Trigger: Detected.] [Sometimes, people need to act on the moment rather than reason. Let go, or grow.]
The system's voice was quieter than usual.
Not demanding. Just...present.
Reyan's eyes fluttered half-shut.
"…The task didn't confirm yet," he murmured to himself.
And then he let go.
He leaned in, one hand resting on her back, the other gently behind her neck as he deepened the kiss—not perfectly, not confidently—but with all the sincerity he had.
It wasn't planned.
It just happened.
When they finally broke apart, Lily's eyes were glazed with emotion and alcohol, her cheeks flushed, her breath sweet with fruit wine.
"…What's your name?" Reyan asked, still catching his breath.
"Lily," she whispered, looking up at him. "Lily Ren."
He nodded slightly. "I'm Reyan."
For a moment, they just stood there.
Then, as her balance faltered, she leaned against him—arms wrapped around his side.
"I don't want to go back alone," she murmured.
Reyan pulled out his phone and sent a message to his mother.
> [Hey Mom, staying over with a friend tonight. Nothing serious. Don't worry.]
Then he flagged a cab and held her close as they rode to a nearby luxury hotel.
He paid ₲4,000 for a private suite without blinking.
They reached the room—large, softly lit, with clean ivory sheets and golden accents. Lily walked in first, barefoot now, wobbling slightly.
She turned just as Reyan closed the door.
Her hands found his shirt again.
Reyan stepped closer, lifted her chin—and kissed her.
She welcomed it.
No hesitation.
She clung to him like he might vanish if she blinked.
And Reyan, despite being a rookie in moments like this, held her with gentle care—as if tonight, even the broken pieces could be handled right.
---