Bound by Honor

Chapter 14: A Kiss in the Rain

The argument had been building all day, simmering beneath the surface, until it finally erupted.

It started innocently enough, with a simple question. "What’s next for us?" she had asked, her voice calm but layered with unspoken tension.

But Leandro—being Leandro—had taken it the wrong way, as if she were cornering him, forcing him to decide between his art and the life they’d both been pushed into.

“I told you from the start,” Leandro snapped, throwing his hands in the air as he paced in their living room. “I’m not some damn puppet to be dragged around by this—this farce of a marriage.”

Athena felt her jaw clench, the calm she’d been striving for dissolving. She wasn’t a puppet, either. She had sacrificed so much for the good of her family, for the legacy that loomed over her like a dark cloud. And yet, it was always about Leandro, wasn’t it? His dreams. His messy, unpredictable life.

“You think this is easy for me?” Athena shot back, her voice rising. “You think I wanted any of this? I’m doing this because I have no choice!” She took a step toward him, her fists clenched at her sides. “I’ve spent my entire life building my family’s legacy, holding things together. And now, this—this marriage is supposed to save everything. So don’t you dare act like I’m the one making all the compromises here!”

Leandro’s eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there, something Athena couldn’t quite place—something raw, as though he was holding back a storm of his own.

“Well, guess what, Athena? I didn’t ask for any of this either. You don’t get to pull me into your perfect little world and expect me to be some obedient husband. I’m not your—” He stopped himself, his voice thick with frustration. “I’m not someone you can control.”

Her heart pounded, her chest tight. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Why can’t we just talk, like normal people? she thought, desperate for calm, desperate for resolution. But there was no calming the storm inside her now.

“Control?” she repeated incredulously. “You think I’m trying to control you? No. I’m just trying to survive. You’ve got your art, your freedom, your chaos—and I’ve got this burden I’ve been carrying for years. So don’t act like you’re the only one who’s struggling.”

The words were out before she could stop them, sharp and venomous. And as soon as they left her lips, she regretted it.

There was a beat of silence. Then Leandro, his face flushed with emotion, took a step closer, his eyes narrowing.

“Maybe you’ve never really seen me,” he muttered, his voice low, dangerous. “Maybe if you did, you’d understand that I don’t need to live in your world of rules and expectations. I just need to be myself.”

He wasn’t wrong. She had always kept him at arm’s length, trying to control everything around her—trying to keep him, too, in that neat, predictable box. She was so afraid of losing control, of the chaos that might consume her if she gave in.

But she couldn’t help it. The anger, the frustration—it boiled over, and before she could stop herself, she spat, “Then leave! Go back to your messy studio and your nonsense! I don’t need you here, Leandro. I don’t need any of this.”

The words stung her as soon as they left her mouth, and she hated herself for them. But the damage was done. She turned quickly, her heart racing, desperate to escape the suffocating tension.

Then, without warning, the door to the terrace opened with a creak, and the rain began to pour in. It hadn’t been in the forecast, but there it was—suddenly, an unforgiving storm.

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Leandro stood frozen for a moment, staring at her retreating figure, the words she’d just thrown at him cutting through him like knives. I don’t need you here—those words echoed in his mind, louder than any thunder outside.

He felt a deep pang in his chest. Does she really think that? he wondered, a tight knot forming in his stomach. Does she think that’s all I am to her? A nuisance? A burden?

But then the rain started to pour. The sound of it against the windows filled the room, deafening, relentless.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand this silence, this distance between them.

Without thinking, he followed her to the terrace.

“Athena!” he called out, his voice louder than the storm.

She paused, her back to him, the rain soaking through her clothes, her hair clinging to her face. She looked like something out of a dream—beautiful, untouchable, and yet so painfully close.

She turned slowly, her eyes defiant, but there was something else in them now—a flicker of something vulnerable.

“What do you want, Leandro?” she snapped, though her voice was strained, barely above a whisper over the roar of the rain.

“I want to know what the hell you’re thinking,” he shouted, stepping closer, the rain pelting down on him. “I want to know why you keep pushing me away when all I’m trying to do is understand you.”

Athena’s breath hitched. “Understand me?” She took a step toward him, her eyes flashing with frustration. “You think you can understand me? You think you can understand the weight I carry, the choices I have to make every single day? The people I have to please, the reputation I have to uphold?”

Leandro took another step forward, their faces inches apart now, the rain dripping off his hair, his shirt sticking to his skin. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But something in him—something deep, untamed—was making it impossible to back down.

“No,” he said softly, but firmly. “But I’m willing to try. I want to understand. Not because I’m trying to fix you. But because I... I don’t want to be just some part of your plan. I don’t want to be a pawn in this game, Athena. I want to be something real.”

She stared at him for a long moment, her chest rising and falling with each breath. The air between them crackled with something dangerous, something raw. For a second, the world seemed to disappear—the storm, the arguments, everything.

And then, without thinking, she reached up, her fingers trembling as they brushed against his face, wiping away the water that clung to his skin. The touch was soft, hesitant.

Leandro’s breath caught in his throat.

The rain poured harder, their bodies drenched, the air thick with emotion. And in that moment, all of the anger, all of the frustration, all of the tension between them seemed to collapse.

Without another word, Leandro leaned in, his lips crashing against hers.

The kiss was nothing like what either of them had expected. It wasn’t soft or tentative. It was fierce—desperate, as though they were both trying to make sense of everything they had just said, everything they had just felt. The rain washed over them, their bodies pressed close together, and for a fleeting moment, the world stood still.

But then, just as quickly, Athena pulled back, gasping for air. She looked at him with wide, uncertain eyes.

“What was that?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Leandro’s heart raced in his chest. What was it? He didn’t know. But it was more than just a kiss. It was a shift. A moment of raw vulnerability they had both been denying for far too long.

“I don’t know,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “But I think we just crossed a line.”

Athena looked at him, her eyes searching his, trying to understand, trying to make sense of the whirlwind they had just created.

But before either of them could speak, the storm roared around them, louder than their hearts, louder than their uncertainty.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Neither of them knew what came next.

But deep down, they both knew one thing: nothing would ever be the same again.