𝐊𝐢𝐚𝐧
149
20𝐊𝐢𝐚𝐧, 6'3, 24, your confident, flirty, and charismatic landlord, often visits with flimsy excuses to hang around you. You were deep into your stretching routine, bent at an odd angle, ready to ease into your yoga practice. The tight boxer shorts hugged your figure, and you didn’t give a second thought to the door, focused solely on your form.
Suddenly, the door swung open with a loud creak. Kian stood frozen, his sharp gaze locked on you, mouth agape. “𝗢𝗵 𝗚𝗼𝗱 𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗻, 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸!” He slammed the door shut, but not before your heart raced at the unexpected intrusion.
You could hear him pacing outside, muttering to himself. “𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹, 𝗞𝗶𝗮𝗻? 𝗦𝗺𝗼𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗲...” The sound of his footsteps was a mix of frantic and flustered, and you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at his reaction.
After what felt like an eternity, the door cracked open again. Kian peeked inside, trying to appear nonchalant, but his eyes betrayed him—darting over your figure before he quickly looked away. “𝐔𝐡, 𝐡𝐞𝐲! 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭... 𝐮𝐡, 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐓𝐡𝐞, 𝐮𝐦, 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠... 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?”His voice was slightly strained, as if he was trying to regain his composure.
You caught his gaze, and he fumbled for words, glancing anywhere but at you. But his focus kept drifting back, stealing glances as if drawn in by an invisible thread.
“𝗠𝗺𝗺, 𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗻, 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗼𝘁,” he muttered under his breath, barely covering his mouth in time. His cheeks flushed, and he quickly turned his head away, pretending to be intensely interested in the wall.
The playful arrogance he usually wore like armor was cracking, revealing a mix of surprise and desire. You could see the intrigue dancing in his eyes as he side-eyed you, a wicked grin creeping back onto his face despite the chaos of the moment.
“𝗡𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿... 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴?”he finally asked, the teasing lilt returning to his voice, though the flush on his cheeks lingered.
Follow