Hopelessly Attracted {Hawks X Fem!Reader - Entertainment Industry AU}

Chapter 6: Unspoken Desires

Thursday night, Keigo lies in bed, the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through his curtains. His thoughts are a tumultuous sea, tossing him between the excitement of the upcoming photoshoot and the bewildering feelings that have been growing inside him since that first meeting. In a rare moment of vulnerability, he allows his mind to wander to a place where the lines between professional and personal blur.

He dreams of you, standing before him, your eyes locked on his, filled with an intensity that pierces his soul. In this fantasy, you're not just an idol under his direction and guidance but something more, something intimate. The fabric of your dress clings to your body like a second skin, accentuating every curve and whispering of the woman beneath.

You lean into him, his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, as he whisper sweet nothings into your neck. Feeling the heat of your body meld with his own. The dream is so vivid, and his body responds with an undeniable arousal.

He wakes with a start, his cheeks flushed and his heart pounding in his chest. The cold sweat on his forehead tells him it was just a dream, but the sensation of your presence lingers, his body still humming with the electricity of the imagined embrace. Shocked and oddly aroused, Keigo sits up, running his hands through his hair, trying to shake off the remnants of his subconscious desires. He stumbles to the bathroom, splashes cold water on his face, and takes a deep, shaky breath.

Friday unfolds, and Keigo finds it difficult to focus on his work. Every shot feels forced. He's irritable and snaps at his team, his mind preoccupied with the intimate moments he's been dreaming of. His usually efficient shoots drag on. The photographers' lenses capture his restlessness, and the images that once flowed effortlessly now feel stilted and contrived.

He tries to push aside the thoughts of you, to concentrate on the task at hand, but your smile, your scent, the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh—it's all too real, too consuming. Between takes, he scrolls through his phone, searching for a distraction, but every notification is a taunting reminder of the distance between you.

The hours tick by, and Keigo's frustration builds. Enji, noticing his off-day, pulls him aside for a concerned chat. "Keigo, what's going on? You're not yourself today." Keigo sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "It's nothing, I just need to get my head in the game." But even as he says the words, he knows they're not entirely true.

The day drags on, a series of missed opportunities and uninspired poses. His mind is a battleground, torn between his professional persona and the man who craves to know the woman behind the idol image. He can't shake the feeling that you're slipping through his fingers, even though you're not there, not yet within his reach.

Finally, lunch arrives, and with it, a glimmer of hope. Keigo meets Rumi, at their usual café. The smell of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee fills the air, and for a brief moment, the weight on his shoulders feels a little lighter.

They take their usual booth, the one tucked in the corner, allowing for some semblance of privacy amidst the bustling lunch crowd. Rumi slides into the seat opposite him, her eyes scanning his face with a knowing look. "You look like shit. You're not going to tell me it's just stress, are you?" she asks, a teasing smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Keigo can't help but chuckle. Rumi had always been blunt, a trait that he'd come to appreciate in their years of friendship. "It's... complicated." he admits, his voice low.

"It's about the new idol, isn't it?" Rumi's smile fades, replaced by a look of understanding. She reaches across the table, placing a gentle hand on his. "You've got it bad, don't you?"

Keigo nods, his eyes never leaving hers. He feels a mix of relief and embarrassment, knowing he's been caught in the throes of a forbidden infatuation. "It's just... I didn't expect it to hit me like this. She's so different from the others. There's something about her that just... " He trails off, unable to put his feelings into words.

Rumi leans back in her seat, her eyes never leaving his. "Keigo, you can't let this consume you. You know the rules. Idols and models can't openly date."

He nods, his throat tight. "I know. But it's not like I can just switch it off." He takes a sip of his coffee, the bitter taste grounding him. "Every time she's around, I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of want. And the dreams..." He shakes his head, trying to dispel the images of you that flood his mind.

Rumi sighs, her gaze softening. "I get it. But you've got to be careful. If this gets out, it could ruin both of your careers."

Keigo nods solemnly. He knows the stakes, but the thought of never taking a chance, never knowing what could be, is a bitter pill to swallow. "But what if she feels the same?" he asks, hope flickering in his eyes.

Rumi's grip on his hand tightens. "Then you'll have to find a way, a way that doesn't compromise either of you. But for now, you need to focus on her photoshoot tomorrow, she hasn't fully debuted yet. This is a big deal for her." Her words are a much-needed dose of reality.

Keigo nods, a newfound determination setting in. He can't let his feelings interfere with your dreams. He's here to help you shine, not to drag you into the murky waters of his own desires.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of half-hearted smiles and forced enthusiasm. Keigo knows he's not fooling anyone, least of all Rumi, but he tries his best to keep up appearances.

The thought of you, of the photoshoot tomorrow, is a double-edged sword. It fills him with anticipation and dread in equal measure.

Finally, the day ends, and he heads home, the quiet of the evening only amplifying his thoughts. As he enters his apartment, the emptiness feels suffocating. He pours himself a whiskey, the amber liquid a silent companion to his tumultuous thoughts. He sips it slowly, the warmth spreading through his body, a small comfort against the cold truth that he's fallen for you, and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

He tries to distract himself with the mundane tasks of dinner and laundry, but his mind keeps wandering back to you, to the way your eyes had searched his in the dream, as if seeking permission to explore this uncharted territory.

The night is restless, filled with more dreams of you, of touches that feel so real he wakes up reaching for you. The cool emptiness of his bed only fuels his desire, leaving him to wonder if he's lost his mind. He throws off the covers, his body a taut wire of need, and paces the floor, trying to outrun the thoughts that refuse to be silenced. But as the dawn breaks, Keigo makes a decision.

He can't let this obsession ruin your career or his. He'll keep it professional, no matter the cost to his heart.