Morning Light
Anton's POV
The alarm on my phone buzzed at exactly 7:00 a.m., though I had been awake for at least half an hour. My body was restless, but my mind even more so. I wasn't a man who entertained whimsical ideas. I dealt in structure, control, and order. Yet last night, in the dim light of a rain-streaked café window, I said yes to something absurd.
Seven days. Pretend lovers. No aftermath.
I sat up in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if Krystel even remembered the pact or if she had simply thrown the idea out for the thrill of watching a stranger squirm. Maybe she woke up this morning laughing at how easily I'd agreed.
Still, a message lit up my phone.
Krystel: Morning, lover. Breakfast?
I found myself staring at the text longer than I should have, lips tugging into a reluctant smile. She was serious. Or at least—serious about playing.
Me: Where?
Her reply came instantly, like she'd been waiting.
Krystel: Near your office. Café Del Luna. 8 a.m. Don't be late. First rule of being my boyfriend: you show up.
A sigh escaped me. I wasn't sure if I should be amused or worried. But my legs carried me to the shower anyway.
The First Meal
Krystel's POV
I spotted him through the glass wall of the café before he noticed me. Dark blazer, hair neatly combed back, posture stiff even as he ordered. The kind of man who thought too much about how he looked to strangers.
The kind of man who needed someone like me to shake the dust off his seriousness.
I waved when his eyes finally caught mine, flashing the kind of smile I reserved for men who didn't know what to do with it. He froze for a beat before returning the smile—awkward, restrained, but sincere.
He sat across me, his cologne faint but sharp.
"Good morning, Anton," I said, resting my chin on my palm like we'd done this countless times before. "I was beginning to think you'd stand me up."
His brow lifted. "I'm never late."
"Hmm. We'll see," I teased. "That's rule number two. A boyfriend should always surprise me."
"Rule number one?" he asked, amused despite himself.
"That you call me Krystel, not Miss Uson. Lovers don't sound so formal."
I laughed at the faint blush creeping on his ears. He was already taking this too seriously, which made it more fun.
Interruption
Anton's POV
Halfway through breakfast, Krystel's phone buzzed. A woman's name flashed on the screen: Princess.
She excused herself to answer, voice lowering but not enough.
"Yeah, I'm with him... No, he's nice... Stop it, you'll meet him soon."
Meet him? My jaw tightened. This was a pact, not a presentation to her friends.
When she hung up, she grinned at me sheepishly. "That was Princess. My best friend. She's dying to meet you."
I sipped my coffee slowly. "You told her already?"
"Of course," she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "What's the point of pretending if no one else sees it?"
I opened my mouth to argue but shut it again. This was her game—and I had agreed to play.
Friendly Warnings
Krystel's POV
By noon, we'd walked hand in hand down the street, fingers brushing like we'd done it for years. I teased him for being stiff until he finally relaxed, squeezing my hand back.
But Anton's phone rang this time. He answered, voice low and clipped. "Jerry."
Whoever Jerry was, he sounded annoyed even from across the table where I pretended not to eavesdrop.
"You're doing what? Anton, that doesn't sound like you... Look, I just don't want you to get burned again. You don't need another mess in your life."
I caught Anton's eyes darting toward me before he muttered, "I know what I'm doing. Trust me, Jerry."
He ended the call, jaw tight.
I leaned in, whispering playfully, "Protective friend?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he stared at me like he was trying to solve a puzzle. "Something like that."
I winked. "Good. Maybe one day he'll approve of me."
The First Spark
Anton's POV
The day ended with us at a small park, the air filled with chatter and distant laughter. We sat on a bench, a safe distance apart until she leaned against my shoulder without warning.
I froze.
"Relax," she murmured. "This is what lovers do, right?"
Her hair smelled faintly of rain and wildflowers. Something in my chest stirred, unfamiliar and dangerous. This wasn't supposed to feel real.
"Krystel," I said softly.
"Hmm?"
"This... pact. You're not playing fair."
She tilted her head up, eyes glinting with mischief—and something I couldn't name. "Maybe I was never planning to."
For the first time, I wasn't sure if seven days would be enough—or far too much.
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The Morning Walk226Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFCxsgne6Yr
Anton's POV
Krystel walked half a step ahead of me, her umbrella tilted just enough to cover both of us from the drizzle. The street wasn't crowded, just the muffled shuffle of people heading to work. She kept swinging her free hand as if daring me to catch it.
I hesitated—then reached for it. My palm fit into hers, warm, familiar in a way it shouldn't be on the first day.
"You're stiff," she teased without looking at me.226Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQgzFz7El7Q
"I'm cautious," I replied. "There's a difference."226Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMnSS94Q3MZ
Krystel laughed softly. "You can't be cautious in love, Anton. Even if we're just pretending."
Her words stung in their simplicity. Pretending. A reminder.
We reached the café where she insisted we grab breakfast. She ordered for both of us—ham and cheese croissant for her, black coffee for me. The casual authority in her voice unsettled me, but in a strangely pleasant way. Like she had known me long enough to decide for me.
"You don't even know what I like," I said once we sat down.226Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK2xoUsBpfc
"Coffee is written all over your face," she smirked, sipping hers. "The kind of man who measures his mornings in bitterness."
I couldn't help but laugh. For the first time in years, it wasn't forced.
The Interruption226Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCB4xOItJmu
Krystel's POV
Just as I was about to take another bite of my croissant, Princess barged into the café. Her hair damp from the rain, her eyes widening when she saw me sitting with Anton, our hands dangerously close on the table.
"Krystel Uson," she said flatly. "Since when do you have a boyfriend?"
Anton almost choked on his coffee. I grinned, leaning back casually.
"Since yesterday," I said without missing a beat.226Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSFiLucZA4k
Princess's jaw dropped. "Excuse me? Yesterday? And you didn't tell me?"
Anton cleared his throat, trying to appear calm. "It's... new."
Princess squinted at him, her investigative nature kicking in. "And what do you do, Mr. New?"
"Architect," Anton replied quickly. His tone was clipped, professional—too rehearsed.
I gave him a small kick under the table, mouthing loosen up. He shot me a warning look, but I only smiled wider.
Protective Voices226Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyEb6tWmkjb
Anton's POV
Later that afternoon, Jerry called me. His voice carried that no-nonsense tone I knew too well.
"Who's the girl?" he asked.226Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡELoXWYbIAO
"Just someone I met," I replied carefully.226Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6Xh7EzSkmA
"You don't do just someone. Not you. What's going on?"
I hesitated, glancing at Krystel across the table where she was sketching something on a napkin, humming a tune. "It's temporary."
Jerry sighed. "Temporary things have a way of becoming permanent scars. Be careful."
His words echoed in me longer than I wanted to admit.
The Uneasy Night226Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZpDnFL4lKs
Krystel's POV
By the time the day ended, Anton walked me home. His hand hovered near mine, as though he wanted to hold it but was still fighting himself.
"You don't have to keep being so guarded," I told him softly as we reached my gate.226Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGGSItRx6nD
"You don't have to keep pretending this is easy," he countered.
For a moment, silence hung between us. Then, impulsively, I leaned forward and brushed a kiss against his cheek.
"Goodnight, lover," I whispered, watching the way his shoulders stiffened at the word.
He stood there long after I went inside, his figure framed in the streetlight, as if torn between running away—or staying forever.
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and then Add to home screen.