Dangerous But Safe

You were sitting sideways now, your legs folded up, hoodie draped over your shoulders.

Kai had set the keyboard down and was now leaning back, one hand resting behind you on the bench’s edge. Just close enough to touch you. Just far enough to pretend it didn’t mean anything.

But everything meant something right now.

Even silence.

You glanced over at him. He was watching the sky, eyes flickering from star to star.

“You’re not gonna ask?” you murmured.

He didn’t turn.

“Ask what?”

“Why I was crying.”

“Already know.”

You blinked.

“Oh, do you?”

He smirked, just a little, still not looking at you.

“You want to be loved like a girl, not worshipped like a storm. But no one’s figured out how to do both yet.”

Silence.

God.

You hated how much that hit.

Your voice came out hoarse.

“Do you always do that?”

“What?”

“Read people like books you’re not supposed to open?”

He finally turned to you then.

His face wasn’t smug. It wasn’t flirty.

It was gentle.

“Only when they’re worth the story.”

That’s when it cracked inside you again.

You turned your head away, voice barely audible.

“I’ve never told anyone this.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

And that truth was bigger than any kiss.

You looked at your hands, twisting the fabric of his hoodie sleeves, heart banging around in your chest like it was trying to warn you.

“When I was thirteen… I quit playing drums for a year.”

Kai blinked, confused.

“Why?”

You swallowed.

“I loved it so much that it scared me. Like, what if I wasn’t good enough to make it real? What if I ruined it by trying too hard?”

He said nothing.

So you kept going.

“My dad told me no one would ever take a girl drummer seriously anyway. Said I'd just end up 'the pretty one' in a boy band I didn't belong in.”

Your throat tightened.

“So I stopped. Hid my sticks in a shoebox under my bed. Didn’t touch ‘em again until Ryan found me crying after school one day and forced me to play just one beat on his guitar case.”

You laughed once, quietly.

“That’s how the band started.”

Kai’s expression was unreadable.

But his eyes?

They burned.

“That’s the dumbest f*cking thing I’ve ever heard.”

You blinked.

“Excuse me?”

He leaned in slightly—not enough to kiss you. Just enough that you felt your breath hitch.

“That anyone could look at you—Moon, you—and think the thing you love most is something to be ashamed of. That’s criminal.”

He reached up, tucking a single wild curl behind your ear, slow. Careful. Reverent.

“You’re not the pretty one in the band.”

Your heart thudded.

“No?”

He shook his head, voice like velvet and lightning.

“You’re the one who makes it worth listening to.”

And then he hovered—his lips just a whisper away from your temple. Not kissing. Just being there.

And when he exhaled, you felt it down to your bones.

No kiss. No move. Just raw, blistering tension.

And in that moment?

You realized…

This wasn’t a crush.

This was gravity.

You hadn’t spoken in minutes. But the silence didn’t feel empty.

It felt like a string pulled tight between you—taut and vibrating, humming with things neither of you had the guts to say out loud yet.

Kai was leaning forward now, elbows on his knees. He glanced at you sideways.

“You know what's wild?”

“Hm?”

“You always look like you’ve got everything under control. Like the world could fall apart and you’d just tap a beat to match it.”

You laughed under your breath, eyes still red.

“That’s not real. That’s just what I want people to see.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I know. That’s the wild part.”

And then he leaned back, arm stretched behind you again. Just casually. But his fingertips grazed your shoulder this time.

Not on accident.

You turned your head slowly, meeting his eyes.

He didn’t look away.

“I don’t want you to fake it with me,” he said, voice rough. “Not the cool, unbothered drummer girl. Not the fireproof heart. I want you.”

The air between you crackled.

You blinked, caught.

“You say that like you already know me.”

“I don’t,” he whispered. “But I want to. Every version. Even the ones you’re scared of.”

You didn’t mean to reach for his hand.

But you did.

Fingers brushing his—curled slightly, testing.

His breath hitched.

And then he turned his palm up. Held yours.

No tug. No pressure. Just letting you hold him.

You didn’t say a word.

Didn’t have to.

Because the heat in your hands said it all.

Want me. Want me. Want me.

And still—no kiss.

Just hovering.

His forehead nearly resting against yours now, breath shallow, hands tangled, your knees touching, your pulse everywhere.

“Moon…”

His voice cracked on your name.

“Yeah?” you breathed.

“If I kissed you right now, I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

You smiled—sadly, sweetly, like a girl who knew she held the trigger.

“Then don’t kiss me.”

His fingers curled tighter around yours.

You leaned in—hovering, inches from his mouth.

You could feel the ache in him, the need crashing like a wave.

And then…

You pulled back.

Just slightly.

Just enough to leave him wrecked.

He groaned under his breath and let his head fall back against the bench.

“You’re gonna ruin me.”

“Only a little.”

[siim]

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