Touch me gently, break me slow

💞💞 The blanket was pulled all the way to her chest, her fingers curling against the soft fabric. Her lashes rested on her cheeks, breathing calm and steady, lips parted just slightly. She looked peaceful-almost too peaceful for someone who had class that morning.

"Mmm..." she stirred, frowning softly as the morning light slipped through the curtains and kissed her face. She turned over, wrapping herself tighter in the blanket as if it could protect her from the world.

Then-

📱 Riiing... riiing...

Her phone buzzed endlessly on the nightstand.

Eva groaned. "Ugh... who's calling this early?"

She reached out blindly, her hand tapping the table once... twice... thrice before she finally grabbed the phone.

"Hello..." she mumbled sleepily, her voice low and lazy.

A loud voice exploded through the speaker.

"Eva! Come open the damn door! I've been knocking for ten minutes!"

Her eyes flew open instantly. "Jasmine?!"

"Yes, Jasmine! Your best friend who's about to be late because you're still drooling in bed!"

Eva shot up, blanket falling around her. "Wait-wait! You're at the door?!"

"Where else do you think I am, the moon? Open up!"

Eva scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over her slippers. Her messy hair bounced as she rushed to the small mirror near her bed. She winced at her reflection-puffy eyes, tangled hair, and a T-shirt that said Sleep is My Boyfriend.

"Great," she muttered, "just great."

She dashed toward the door and swung it open.

Jasmine stood there, arms crossed, a designer handbag hanging from her shoulder, her polished nails tapping impatiently against the strap. "You look like you wrestled with your pillow and lost," she said flatly.

Eva rolled her eyes. "Good morning to you too, sunshine."

"Morning? It's almost eight-thirty!" Jasmine shoved her playfully inside. "You're a final-year student, Eva. This is not the time to be dating your blanket."

Eva sighed, dragging herself toward her small bathroom. "Five minutes! I'll be ready in five minutes!"

"You said that yesterday," Jasmine called out. "And we still missed the first lecture!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Eva mumbled under the sound of running water. "This time I mean it."

As the steam filled the air, Jasmine shook her head with a small smile. "One day, girl, you'll be late to your own wedding."

From inside the bathroom came Eva's voice, half muffled, half laughing, "Then you better bring the cake!"

Steam rolled out as Eva stepped from the bathroom, a towel tied snugly over her chest. Her hair dripped water down her shoulders, tracing wet lines across her collarbone. She walked toward the mirror, wiping the fog from the glass with her palm.

Jasmine, sitting cross-legged on the bed, raised an eyebrow. Her gaze trailed from Eva's damp hair to her towel.

Eva caught the look immediately. "What?" she said, narrowing her eyes. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

Jasmine scoffed. "Like seriously, Eva... you're about to graduate, and you still act like a sleepy freshman. You need to grow up-change this routine!"

Eva grabbed her lotion and started applying it to her arms. "Working part-time at the coffee shop already feels like a full-time job," she muttered. "My legs ache every night, and some customers think smiles come for free."

"I've told you to quit that job," Jasmine said firmly. "You're overworking yourself. Classes in the morning, then straight to the café till closing time? That's insane."

Eva chuckled softly, walking over to the wardrobe. "And let my landlord throw me out? No thanks. Unless you're volunteering to pay my rent this month?"

Jasmine smirked, tossing her designer bag onto the chair. "Relax, I've already taken care of it. Rent's paid for the month. Consider it a little investment in keeping my favorite human alive and functional."

Eva blinked, half-amused, half-exasperated. "Seriously? You didn't have to..."

"I did," Jasmine interrupted, grinning. "Now stop whining and get dressed before we're late.... But seriously, girl-when are you going to get a boyfriend?"

Eva froze for a second, halfway through pulling on her jeans. "A what now?" she asked, voice dripping with disbelief.

Jasmine smirked. "A boyfriend, Miss Coffee Queen. Someone to distract you from those espresso machines and grumpy customers. Or are you planning to marry your job?"

Eva rolled her eyes, tugging on her white T-shirt. "I don't have time for love, Jas. Between work, school, and surviving-dating is a luxury."

Jasmine crossed her arms, grinning knowingly. "You say that now... but wait until some handsome stranger walks into that café and makes you spill a whole tray of coffee."

Eva laughed, grabbing her backpack. "If that ever happens, I'll make him pay for the mess."

Jasmine followed her toward the door, shaking her head. "One day, Eva... your world's going to flip upside down. I can feel it."

Eva smiled faintly, locking the door behind her. "Then I hope it flips gently-I can't afford another broken cup."

---

Outside, the morning sun poured gently over the narrow street as the girls stepped out of the apartment building. The air smelled faintly of baked bread from the shop nearby.

Eva's eyes widened as she spotted a sleek black car parked by the curb.

A chauffeur stood beside it, opening the back door with a polite nod.

"Please tell me that's not your new toy," Eva said, staring in disbelief.

Jasmine grinned proudly. "Dad finally gave in. Said it's safer than the convertible."

Eva groaned. "Safer, sure. But seriously, Jas, could you look less like you stepped out of a K-drama?"

Jasmine tossed her hair and slid into the car. "Sorry, darling. Some of us were born fabulous."

Eva rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile as she got in beside her.

As the car pulled onto the main road, Jasmine's words echoed playfully-

"One day, Eva... your ordinary world is going to collide with something extraordinary."

💞💞A sleek black car glided smoothly into the university parking lot, earning more than a few curious stares. Students turned their heads, whispering as it rolled past.

Eva shrank a little in her seat. "You know people already think I'm your personal assistant, right? Pulling up like this won't help."

Jasmine smirked, flipping her sunglasses down. "Let them stare. At least they know I have taste."

"More like drama," Eva muttered, clutching her backpack as the car stopped.

The driver stepped out swiftly and opened the door for them. Jasmine emerged first-heels clicking, hair perfect, perfume soft but expensive. She adjusted her designer bag like she was walking a runway instead of a university courtyard.

Eva followed, tugging her hoodie over her T-shirt, her backpack slung lazily across one shoulder. The contrast between them was so sharp that a passing student whispered,

"Is that the same girl she always drags to class?"

"Yup," another replied. "The broke bestie."

Eva heard it, but she didn't flinch. She was used to it. Instead, she leaned closer to Jasmine and whispered, "Next time I'm walking."

Jasmine only smirked. "Next time, I'll tell the driver to drop you two streets away. Better?"

Eva chuckled, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

"Correction-irresistible."

They made their way toward the lecture hall, weaving through groups of students chatting by the steps. The air smelled of fresh coffee and paper-typical college morning chaos.

Eva spotted her classmates near the notice board. "I'll go check the schedule. You heading to your group meeting?"

"Yeah," Jasmine said, already glancing at her phone. "Dad wants me to meet someone later today. A business associate's son-whatever that means."

Eva laughed. "A setup. Definitely a setup."

Jasmine groaned. "Exactly! I told him I'm not ready for marriage interviews. I have a thesis to finish, not a fiancé to impress."

"Maybe he'll be ugly enough to scare your dad off."

"Ha! If only," Jasmine muttered, scrolling through her messages. "But you know what? If he turns out boring, I might send you instead."

Eva looked at her, wide-eyed. "Excuse me?"

Jasmine gave a wicked grin. "Relax, I'm kidding. Mostly."

Eva narrowed her eyes. "Mostly?"

Before Jasmine could reply, the bell rang from the administration building, echoing across the courtyard.

Eva sighed. "That's our cue. Come on before Professor Kim locks the door again."

The two hurried toward the hall, the marble floors gleaming beneath their steps. The chatter of students filled the air-plans, gossip, last-minute cramming.

Inside, the lecture room was already half full. Eva slid into her usual seat near the middle row while Jasmine, ever the social butterfly, waved at a group of friends near the back.

Professor Kim entered moments later, carrying a stack of papers. The room went quiet instantly.

"Good morning," he began, his tone brisk. "Before we continue our lesson, I have an announcement. The university will be hosting a corporate seminar next week-representatives from major companies will attend."

Murmurs rippled across the room.

Professor Kim continued, "It's a rare opportunity. Some of you might even get internship offers. So I expect your best behavior-and your attendance."

Eva exchanged glances with Jasmine, who whispered, "Bet my dad's company will be there."

Eva smiled faintly. "If they need a barista, I'm in."

LATER THAT DAY...

The late afternoon rush at Brew & Bloom Café was in full swing. The scent of roasted beans and caramel syrup filled the air as customers shuffled in and out, leaving trails of chatter and steam.

Eva balanced two cups of coffee on a tray, weaving through the small tables with practiced ease. Her apron was dusted with coffee grounds, and her hair was pinned up messily, a few strands clinging to her flushed cheeks.

"Table five, Americano and a vanilla latte!" her boss - Mrs. Holt, a woman whose voice could curdle milk - barked from behind the counter.

"On it!" Eva called back, flashing her polite customer smile.

Just as she placed the cups down, the little bell over the door chimed-a soft, cheerful sound that normally didn't mean much. But this time, heads turned.

Because Jasmine Whitmore had just walked in.

Her designer sunglasses glinted under the light, her beige coat swung effortlessly around her frame, and her heels clicked confidently on the floor. She looked entirely out of place in the small café-like a scene from a luxury commercial that had wandered into reality.

Mrs. Holt's eyes widened slightly. "Can I help you, miss?"

"Yes," Jasmine said, removing her sunglasses and smiling charmingly. "Actually, I'm here for one of your employees. I'd like to borrow her for a bit."

Mrs. Holt blinked. "Borrow... her?"

"Just for a few minutes," Jasmine continued smoothly. "Eva Bennett. She's my friend."

At the sound of her name, Eva nearly dropped a coffee cup. She quickly wiped her hands on her apron and rushed toward Jasmine, whispering urgently, "Jasmine, what are you doing here? I'm at work!"

Jasmine grinned, lowering her voice. "I know, I know. But I need your help. It's urgent."

Eva crossed her arms. "Last time you said that, we ended up cleaning paint off your dad's car."

"This time it's different."

"Different how?"

Jasmine's eyes darted to Mrs. Holt, who was watching suspiciously. "Can we talk... somewhere private?"

With a sigh, Eva untied her apron. "Mrs. Holt," she said carefully, "my friend just needs a quick word. I'll be right back, promise."

Mrs. Holt looked between them, clearly unimpressed. "Five minutes, Bennett. And don't think I didn't see you talking instead of refilling the napkin station."

"Yes, ma'am," Eva muttered, dragging Jasmine toward a quiet corner near the back exit.

Once out of sight, Jasmine took a deep breath. "Okay. So. My dad set me up on another business dinner."

Eva groaned. "Again? With another heir who probably thinks emotions are a liability?"

"Exactly! That's why I need you to go."

Eva blinked. "What?"

Jasmine clasped her hands dramatically. "Please, Eva! You're the only one who can help me. Dad will kill me if I skip again. He said if this dinner doesn't happen, he'll cut off my card."

Eva sighed. "You're unbelievable."

"I know," Jasmine said sweetly. "But you love me."

"No, I tolerate you," Eva corrected, but the corners of her lips twitched. "And why me? Why not one of your other rich friends?"

"Because you don't like men like him," Jasmine said matter-of-factly. "You won't get swept up or say something dumb. Just sit there, act uninterested, and make him regret agreeing to the meeting."

Eva crossed her arms. "You're out of your mind."

"Maybe," Jasmine admitted, "but you're my only hope. You're my height, my hair color, and you can look classy when you try."

"Gee, thanks."

"Come on, please!" Jasmine grabbed her arm. "One dinner. I'll tell Dad he was awful, and we'll be done. I swear."

Eva hesitated. She could already picture it-an awkward dinner with some spoiled heir and a table too expensive to breathe near. But the way Jasmine looked at her, half desperate, half hopeful... it was hard to say no.

"And who's this guy, anyway?"

Jasmine frowned, thinking. "I don't know... something Thorne."

Eva raised an eyebrow. "Thorne? That already sounds dangerous."

"Ha! Please," Jasmine scoffed. "He's probably a forty-year-old with a company and a comb-over. My father doesn't care if I marry someone twice my age as long as it benefits the business."

Eva shook her head in disbelief. "That's insane."

"Tell me about it," Jasmine sighed dramatically. "I can't keep pretending I'm okay with this. But I can't say no again either. That's why I need you, Eva. Please."

Eva looked unconvinced. "You want me to go on a fake dinner date with a man named Thorne? You're insane."

"Maybe," Jasmine said, her tone softening. "But you're my only hope."

Eva exhaled deeply, her fingers drumming against her arm. "You're going to owe me for this."

Jasmine's face lit up instantly. "So you'll do it?"

Eva groaned. "Fine. But if this guy's creepy, I'm out the second dessert hits the table."

"Deal!" Jasmine squealed, throwing her arms around her. "You're the best, Eva Bennett! I swear, I'll never forget this."

"Yeah, you said that last time too."

Jasmine only grinned, gave her a playful salute, and turned toward the door. "I'll come pick you up when you close. Miss Whitmore-in-Training."

And with that, she was gone-leaving Eva standing there, apron in hand, wondering what kind of madness she had just agreed to.

💞💞The soft hum of the elevator filled the air, its mirrored walls reflecting a tall, sharp figure in a charcoal suit.

Alexander Thorne stood perfectly still, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other holding a slim silver tablet. His reflection was as composed as his mind - expression blank, tie straight, eyes glacial.

Beside him, his assistant, Noah Gray, adjusted his glasses nervously. "Sir, the board meeting starts in three minutes. I've already sent the final projections to your tablet."

Alexander's gaze flicked toward the screen, then back to the doors. "Did the investors confirm attendance?"

"Yes, sir. Everyone except Mr. Choi from the Seoul branch - his flight was delayed."

A faint pause.

"Then he can read the minutes," Alexander said coolly. "We don't delay for anyone."

The elevator chimed softly.

The doors slid open to reveal the thirty-seventh floor - Thorne Jewels Headquarters, the empire he had rebuilt from ashes.

As he stepped out, employees straightened instantly. Conversations halted. The air itself seemed to shift.

He didn't need to speak; his presence was enough to command silence.

Noah followed close behind, juggling a folder of documents. "Sir, the quarterly profit margin increased by nine percent. The launch of the 'Aurelia' collection-"

"Ten percent," Alexander corrected without looking at him. "Recalculate. You're missing overseas revenue."

"Yes, sir."

They reached the glass conference room. Through the wall of windows, the city glittered below - silver towers and golden light, the perfect reflection of what Thorne Jewels represented: power wrapped in beauty.

The moment he entered, the executives rose from their seats.

"Mr. Thorne," the CFO began, "the marketing team wanted to discuss-"

Alexander set his tablet down with a soft click. "No need." His voice was low, even, but absolute. "You'll focus on expansion. The new showroom in Paris opens next month. Every detail must scream perfection. No second chances."

He sat, long fingers tapping lightly on the table. "I want the Aurelia diamonds displayed under controlled lighting - not too harsh, not too soft. Subtle brilliance. Like temptation you can't refuse."

The room stayed quiet. No one dared interrupt.

Finally, the head of marketing cleared her throat. "And for the campaign model, sir?"

Alexander's gaze sharpened. "Find someone who can wear silence like a crown," he said. "Beauty that doesn't beg for attention - it demands it."

A brief silence followed. Notes scribbled. Heads nodded.

Then Noah's phone buzzed quietly. He silenced it instantly, but Alexander's eyes flicked toward him.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, sir," Noah said quickly, but the slight tremor in his voice gave him away.

Alexander leaned back, voice calm but edged. "In my meetings, Gray, there are never problems. Only results."

"Yes, sir."

The room exhaled in unison when the meeting finally ended. As the executives filed out, whispers trailed behind him - admiration, fear, awe.

But Alexander Thorne remained unmoved.

He stood before the panoramic window, watching the skyline. His reflection in the glass looked untouchable - a man carved from control.

And yet, somewhere deep in the quiet, a flicker of boredom crossed his expression. The world bowed at his feet, but none of it moved him anymore.

He loosened his cufflinks slightly and murmured to himself,

"Perfection gets... predictable."

Noah approached cautiously. "Sir, there's... one more thing in your evening schedule."

Alexander didn't turn. "If it's not work-related, remove it."

"That's the thing, sir," Noah said, shifting uncomfortably. "It appeared this morning - added directly by Madam Thorne."

At that, Alexander's reflection lifted one brow. "My grandmother?"

"Yes, sir. It's, uh... a dinner engagement."

A pause. The faint ticking of the clock filled the silence.

"With?" Alexander asked, his tone calm but edged with frost.

"Mr. Whitmore's daughter," Noah said, his voice dropping slightly, as though the name itself might trigger something.

Alexander's lips curved faintly - not a smile, more like disbelief. "A date?"

"Listed as such," Noah replied quickly. "Seven p.m. at the Vellaro Hotel."

The city's light glimmered across Alexander's sharp features, catching in the glass like fragments of diamond. For a man like him, composure wasn't effort - it was instinct.

And right now, he wore it like armor.

"So," he said dryly, "my grandmother's taken to managing my personal life. Impressive. I should start paying her."

Noah cleared his throat carefully. "Should I cancel, sir?"

"No." Alexander turned slightly, his voice low but decisive. "If I remove it, she'll only find another way to interfere."

Just then, his phone buzzed on the desk. The screen lit up with a familiar name: Grandmother.

Alexander exhaled softly. "Speak of the devil."

He answered, his tone controlled. "You've been busy, I see."

A warm, mischievous laugh floated through the receiver. "Ah, so you found my little surprise."

"You mean the ambush you disguised as a dinner?"

"Oh, don't sound so dramatic, dear," she teased. "I merely thought it was time you entertained someone who isn't holding a contract or stock report."

"I prefer silence," he replied evenly.

"I prefer great-grandchildren," she countered sweetly.

Alexander's jaw tightened, but amusement flickered in his eyes. "Then you'll be waiting a long time."

"I have patience," she said brightly. "Unlike you."

"Grandmother," his tone dropped, smooth as glass but edged with warning, "I don't do blind dates."

"Then think of it as reconnaissance," she said cheerfully. "Mr. Whitmore's daughter is charming - elegant, well-mannered, and not the least bit intimidated by you."

Alexander let out a quiet, dry laugh. "You've done your research."

"I always do," she replied. "And you, Alexander, have spent far too long staring at jewels. It's time you remembered that people can shine too."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, shaking his head slightly. "You're relentless."

"I'm right," she said with that unmistakable smile in her voice. "Seven p.m. Don't be late. And wear something that doesn't make you look like you're about to fire someone."

Before he could respond, the line clicked off.

Alexander stared at the phone for a moment, then slipped it into his pocket with a faint exhale. "She never gives me a choice," he murmured.

Noah looked up nervously. "Sir?"

"Nothing." Alexander buttoned his jacket, gaze sweeping once more toward the city below. His reflection in the glass looked immaculate - tall, cold, untouchable.

"Cancel nothing, Gray."

Noah blinked. "Sir?"

"If my grandmother went through the trouble of arranging a dinner," Alexander said, his voice smooth and faintly amused, "I might as well see what kind of trap she's set."

A trace of a smirk ghosted over his lips as he turned toward the elevator. "And who knows..." His voice dropped lower, silk over steel. "Maybe Whitmore's daughter will be less dull than the rest."

Noah straightened immediately. "I'll have the car ready at six-thirty."

"Make it six," Alexander said without looking back. "I prefer arriving early. It unsettles people."

"Yes, sir."