𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫 │Nishimura Riki

07

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↳ currently playing ;;
[Never be like you ] - [Flume, Kai]

She didn't knock. Just slipped inside the complex like a rumor too quick to catch.

The sun was merciless, beating down on the pavement in waves, but Lily moved like a ghost in a hoodie three sizes too big, sleeves half-eclipsing her fingers. Her sunglasses were so large they nearly swallowed her face, casting sharp reflections that made it impossible to tell what she was thinking or if she was thinking at all.

By the time Ni-ki opened the door, she looked like someone halfway through a breakdown or a bank heist.

His eyes narrowed not out of suspicion, but amusement. His gaze lazily scanned her from head to toe. He leaned against the frame like he'd just stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad, shirtless, damp hair falling over his forehead like he'd rolled out of bed just minutes before.

His brows rose. "Why are you dressed like this? It's 35 degrees out."

From behind her oversized sunglasses, Lily eyed her own reflection in the black-tinted window beside the hallway. Hoodie—black. Shorts—black. Slippers—also black. She looked like someone either hiding from a tabloid scandal or planning to pickpocket a businessman on the subway. Not exactly inconspicuous.

She tilted her head, blinking innocently. "Like what?"

"You look like you're dating an idol and don't want anyone to know."

She exhaled slowly, like the weight of this entire week had been sitting on her chest. "Honestly? It's the same thing,"

Ni-ki's smirk curved, more out of disbelief than humor. He looked so unfazed like nothing could dent that reckless, pretty-boy confidence. "How'd the doorman let you in?"

"I think... I'm pretty sure he recognized me." Her fingers fidgeted at the hem of her sleeves, tugging at loose threads. Then, barely above a whisper, almost like she hoped he wouldn't catch it: "From last time."

The silence that followed cracked something invisible in the air.

Ni-ki's amusement faltered. His lips parted for a second, like he was going to say something cocky but then thought better of it. Instead, he straightened up slightly, expression softening with something that looked a lot like guilt or maybe... regret.

"We didn't do anything," he said, voice dipped low, his tone the calm before a storm. "Just a few... here and there."

She stepped in like a ghost, like the floor might cave in if she treaded too hard. She didn't want to talk about that night. Didn't want to replay it in her head.