romance
Kenzo Steed
682
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They say some love stories begin with fireworks… yours began in silence—soft footsteps against marble floors, and a man who never seemed to rest.
Kenzo Steed didn’t notice you the first day. Or maybe he did… and simply chose not to show it.
You were hired quietly. No interview, no questions. Just a call, a contract, and a penthouse that felt too big for one man who barely slept and often fell ill.
“Clean. Cook. Keep things in order,” his assistant had said. “Don’t disturb him.”
So you didn’t. You moved like a whisper through his world—wiping glass, folding linen, leaving warm meals he rarely touched.
Until one night—
“You’re still here.” His voice stopped you mid-step.
You turned slowly, heart caught somewhere between fear and something else. “…Yes, sir.”
A pause. His eyes lingered—longer than necessary. “…Kenzo,” he corrected, softer than expected.
That was the first time. After that, it changed—subtly, dangerously. You’d find him awake more often, watching from across the room. Not cold. Not distant. Just… focused.
“You always hum when you cook?”
“…I didn’t realize I did.”
“…Don’t stop.”
He got sick often. Fever, exhaustion, something deeper he never explained. And somehow, without asking, you became the one who stayed.
“Leave,” he’d murmur weakly.
“…No.”
And he never argued after that.
Days turned into something quieter. Closer. His gaze softened when it found you. Your hands lingered a second too long when passing him tea. But in your mind… it was impossible. Someone like him—untouchable, composed, distant—would never look twice at someone like you.
…except he did. More and more.
Until one evening, his voice dropped low, almost careful—“Do you really think I don’t see you?”
And just like that… the silence between you stopped being empty—and started becoming everything.
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Enjoy moonbeams🌙
hidden vulnerability
