Project Cupid | Ongoing

13-1 | holding you at pencil-point

HE'D JUST COME OUT OF THE SHOWER. Fortunately, he was wearing pants, but the top half of his body was readily available for the entire world to behold. His sopping hair lay flat against his forehead, covering half of his face and one of his awe-inspiring marble-grey eyes. Water droplets dribbled down his chiselled cheeks and neck, and into the groves of his bare chest and abdomen.

It felt wrong to stare. At the same time, I didn't feel compelled to look away either. I'd seen my brothers shirtless all the time. In fact, they walked around the house in just their boxers normally. That being said, their pathetic and gross physiques didn't hold a candle to Takumi's. All those extracurricular activities were doing him well, clearly. The guy had abs, for heaven's sake.

Dammit, my mind cursed. Shirtless CG acquired.

If I was your average heroine, this would be the perfect opportunity to squeal or scream. And sure, I would've if this really was a game and he really was a fictional character.

But, in reality. . . all this was. . . was awkward.

"Can you put on a shirt?" I bluntly asked, despite my embarrassment. "Nobody wants to see that."

Takumi's gaze flickered to his chest and to me. He nonchalantly proceeded to dry his nape. "Stop losing your mind. It's just skin."

My jaw plummeted at his implication. "Who said I'm losing my mind?"

"If it didn't bother you so much, you wouldn't be yelling about it."

"I'm "yelling" because the sight of you is literally making me sick to my stomach! I'm seconds away from throwing up across your carpet! What's not clear?"

His eyebrows creased, as if he were dealing with a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

I returned a glare, biting the inside of my cheek.

"What?" I demanded.

He shook his head, as if in surrender. "I'll be back."

At that, he disappeared up to the second floor, leaving me writhing in both mortification and annoyance. I buried my face in my hands. This was so unlike me. Takumi was right. Who cared if he was shirtless—that didn't change how I thought of him. I'd already known I was dealing with a pretty boy.

A pretty boy with a hot body, my conscience remarked.

I banished the thought at once. I wasn't going to humour the idea.

After what felt like centuries, Takumi returned to the living room. A dark grey t-shirt—that was still a tad too tight around his figure—clung to his torso in a manner that clearly outlined his abs. His hair remained damp, black and white strands haphazardly flung over his forehead and ears. He sunk into the couch beside me.

The silence between us was deafening.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

My shoulders jumped.

"Normally, I don't have to worry about minor technicalities, like whether I'm shirtless or not. You're the first girl who's ever been over like this. I guess I'm not used to that."

I chewed on my bottom lip.

I was the first girl? His mom did mention he had an aversion to girls due to his popularity growing up.

Considering his attitude right now, could I take this to mean he wasn't self-conscious around me? Which entailed our relationship still lingered on a rival-to-stranger basis. Somehow, knowing that didn't make this situation any less awkward.