Shadows of the Spotlight

Chapter 45

He suddenly sat up straighter, his hands braced on either side of him as he looked at me with a lazy smirk. "Yes," he said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Arc, this is not right," I said, my tone firm but not loud. "당신은 취했습니다. 당신은 여기 내 방에 있어서는 안 돼요. 특히 내 침대 위에 있으면 안 돼요. 누가 오면 정말 설명하기 어려울 것 같아요.(You're drunk. You shouldn't be here in my room, especially not on my bed. If anyone comes by, it's going to be really difficult to explain.)"

He shrugged, leaning back slightly as if to get more comfortable. "다들 자기 방으로 갔어. 그들은 열심히 파티를 했습니다. 누가 나를 찾을지 의심스럽습니다(Everyone's gone to their rooms. They partied hard. I doubt anyone's going to be looking for me)," he replied, his words slurring just enough to remind me of how intoxicated he was.

I frowned, stepping closer. "그럼에도 불구하고, 아무도 당신을 찾고 있지 않더라도 이곳은 당신을 위한 곳이 아닙니다.(Still, even if no one is looking for you, this is not the place for you.)"

For a moment, he looked like he might listen. But then he stood up from the bed, his movements surprisingly steady for someone who was clearly drunk, and started walking toward me.

"This," he said, his voice quieter now, "is exactly where I should be."

I instinctively took a step back, but he kept coming closer, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made my pulse quicken.

"Arc—" I began, but my voice faltered as he stopped in front of me, leaving barely any space between us.

I pressed my back against the wall, my breath catching as the space between us disappeared. Arc was close now—too close—and I could feel the heat radiating off him, the faint scent of alcohol lingering on his breath.

"Arc," I started, my voice shaky but firm. "You need to leave. This isn't right."

He didn't move, his dark eyes fixed on mine, filled with something I couldn't quite place—an intensity that made my heart race and my resolve falter.

"This feels right," he said softly, his voice low and steady. "Being here, with you... it feels right."

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his words sent a shiver down my spine. "You're drunk," I said again, as if repeating it would break through whatever haze he was in. "You don't know what you're saying."

He shook his head slowly, his lips curling into a faint, bitter smile. "I know exactly what I'm saying, Lila. And I know you feel it too."

He didn't move, his dark eyes still locked on mine, and before I could find the words to protest, he leaned in.

The first brush of his lips against mine was hesitant, almost as if he was giving me a chance to stop him. But I didn't.

Instead, I froze in place, my mind blank as the warmth of his kiss melted away my defenses. And then, slowly, I responded. His hands slid to my arms, steadying me, and my own hands hesitantly rested against his chest.

I raised my arm instinctively, my fingers brushing against his shirt. My heart raced as I fumbled with the buttons, and before I realized it, I was unbuttoning his shirt, caught up in the heat of the moment, the chaos of the kiss. His hands moved down my back, and I could feel the tension in his body as he held me tightly.

Then suddenly, my legs hit the edge of the bed. I gasped, stumbling back a little, and Arc followed, his lips still locked onto mine. The momentum of our movements carried me backward, and I felt myself being gently pushed onto the bed. For a moment, I was lost in the frenzy, completely absorbed by the kiss.