**Sunshine's POV**
Week six felt different.
Kael smiled more now. Real smiles, not the practiced ones for cameras. And somehow, without either of us planning it, we'd stopped being just boss and assistant.
We'd become something else.
Something that made my heart race every time he walked into a room.
---
**Kael's POV**
During my therapy session, Dr. Yoon noticed.
"You're smiling," she observed.
I hadn't realized. "Am I?"
"More than I've ever seen. What's changed?"
"Sunshine," I said without thinking. Then added quickly, "She's been helpful. With work. And reminding me to take my medication. And—"
"And you're falling for her."
My head snapped up. "What? No. I mean, she's my assistant—"
"Kael." Dr. Yoon's smile was gentle. "I've been your therapist for seven years. I know what denial looks like. And I know what happiness looks like. You're allowed to feel it."
"But what if—" I stopped, throat tight. "What if I hurt her again? What if the BPD—"
"You're taking your medication. Coming to therapy. Working on regulation techniques. You're not the same person you were a month ago." She leaned forward. "You deserve to be happy. And Sunshine seems to make you happy."
"She does," I admitted quietly. "She really does."
**Sunshine's POV**
"How was therapy?" I asked as we drove back.
Kael turned to look at me, and something in his expression made my breath catch.
"Good. Really good." He paused. "Dr. Yoon says I'm making real progress. That I'm... different lately."
"You are different. Lighter."
"Because of you."
The words hung between us.
"Kael—"
"I mean it. You make everything easier. Lighter. Like I can actually breathe when you're around." He looked away, suddenly focused on his hands. "Sorry. That was probably too much."
"No." My voice came out soft. "It wasn't too much."
Our eyes met again, and this time neither of us looked away.
The moment stretched, heavy with things we weren't saying.
Then my phone rang—Director Han—and we both jumped.
-‐-
Later that evening
I was organizing equipment in the practice room when I heard it.
"Thank you, Min-ah. I really appreciate your help with this."
I looked up, shocked.
Kael was talking to one of the backup dancers—actually talking, not barking orders. And he'd thanked her. By name.
Min-ah looked equally stunned. "Oh. Um. You're welcome, Mr. Devereaux."
He smiled. Actually smiled at her. "Just call me Kael."
The entire room went silent.
Staff members exchanged glances. One stylist mouthed, "What happened to him?" to another.
Kael noticed the stares and his ears turned red. "What? I can be nice."
"You can," I said, unable to hide my smile. "You should do it more often."
His eyes found mine across the room, and something warm passed between us.
"Maybe I will," he said softly.
After he left for rehearsal, the staff started talking and expressing their shock.
"What do we call this?" the head stylist asked.
"Nothing. He's just... trying." I replied.
"Trying? He smiled. He said thank you. He used someone's actual name." She shook her head in disbelief. "In three years, I've never heard him say please. What's happening?"
I thought about the way he looked at me lately. The medication bottle I'd seen him take faithfully every morning.
"He's healing," I said simply.
---
**Kael's POV**
During a water break, I caught Sunshine staring at me.
When our eyes met, she didn't look away. Just smiled.
"What?" I asked, walking over.
"You were nice to Min-ah earlier. The staff are in shock."
My face heated. "Was I that bad before?"
"You weren't bad. Just... closed off." She handed me water, our fingers brushing deliberately this time. "This version of you is nice."
"This version?"
"The one who smiles. Who says thank you. Who remembers people's names." Her voice dropped. "The real you."
I wanted to tell her. Wanted to say that she was the reason. That being around her made me want to be better.
Instead, I said, "Want to take a walk later? After we're done here?"
Her face lit up. "The river?"
"Wherever you want."
"Then yes."
---
**Sunshine's POV**
We walked as the sun set, painting everything gold and pink.
"You've been different lately too," Kael said suddenly. "More... relaxed around me."
"Is that okay?"
"It's more than okay." He glanced at me. "I like when you're comfortable. When you smile at me instead of looking nervous."
"You don't make me nervous anymore."
"No?"
I felt my cheeks heat. "Well. Maybe a different kind of nervous."
"What kind is that?"
The good kind. The butterflies kind. The I-think-about-you-constantly kind.
"The kind I don't mind," I said instead.
We walked in silence for a moment, close enough that our arms almost touched.
"Sunshine?"
"Yeah?"
"Would it be weird if I said I think about our walks all week? Like they're the thing I look forward to most?"
My heart skipped. "No. Because I do the same thing."
His hand moved slightly, like he wanted to reach for mine but didn't quite dare.
I took a breath and let my pinky finger brush against his.
He inhaled sharply. Then, slowly, deliberately, he hooked his pinky around mine.
We walked like that—pinkies linked—and it felt more intimate than any grand gesture.
---
**Kael's POV**
Her pinky was so small against mine. But that tiny connection sent electricity through my entire body.
I didn't want to let go. Didn't want this walk to end.
"Kael?" Her voice was soft. "What are we doing?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "But I don't want to stop."
"Me neither."
We turned back as the sun disappeared completely. Our pinkies stayed linked until we reached the car, where we reluctantly let go.
In the backseat, she sat close enough that our shoulders touched.
Neither of us mentioned it.
But we both smiled.
---
**Sunshine's POV**
That evening, back at KDX, Kael and I were alone in the studio.
He was at the piano, playing something soft and beautiful. I sat on the couch, pretending to work but really just watching him.
"Come here," he said suddenly.
"What?"
"Sit with me. I want to show you something."
I moved to the piano bench. Sat beside him, our thighs touching.
He played a melody—heartbreaking and hopeful at once. The notes wrapped around us like a secret. His shoulder was warm against mine, and I could smell his cologne—cedar and something clean, familiar.
"I wrote this today," he said quietly.
"It's beautiful," I whispered.
"It's about you."
Our eyes met, and my breath caught.
"It's about..." He paused. "About being afraid to want something. Because wanting it means you could lose it."
"What do you want?" I asked softly.
For a long moment, he just looked at me. Then he said, "To not be afraid anymore."
He started playing again, and I found myself leaning closer against him.
He didn't stop playing. But his shoulder was touching mine.
Neither of us acknowledged it. But neither of us moved away.
His hands moved across the keys, creating something beautiful and sad. And my heart beat in time with the melody.
When the song ended, we sat in silence. Shoulders touching. Breathing synchronized.
"Sunshine?"
"Yeah?"
"This—" He gestured between us. "What is this?"
My heart hammered. "I don't know."
"Should we... should we talk about it?"
"Do you want to?"
He turned to look at me. We were so close. Just inches apart.
"I want—" he started..
His phone rang, shattering the moment.
He glanced at the screen and went pale. "It's my father."
I started to stand, give him privacy, but he grabbed my hand. "Stay. Please."
I sat back down, hand in his, as he answered.
---
**Kael's POV**
My hand shook as I lifted the phone to my ear.
"Father."
I braced for the usual. The threats. The disappointment. The reminders that I was one mistake from losing everything.
"Kael." His voice was different. Softer. "How are you?"
I froze. "What?"
"I asked how you are. It's a simple question."
When was the last time he'd asked me that? Years. Maybe never.
"I'm... fine. Good, actually."
"Good." A pause. "The upcoming award show is in two weeks. I expect you to make me proud."
There it was. The expectation. The pressure.
But then he added: "You've been different lately. Calmer. More focused. I don't know what's happening, but keep at it."
My throat tightened. "You noticed?"
"I notice everything." His voice was gruff, almost awkward. "Whatever you're doing—the therapy, the medication, whatever—it's working. Don't stop."
"I won't."
"Good. I'll see you at the award show."
He hung up.
I stared at my phone, stunned.
"Kael?" Sunshine squeezed my hand. "Are you okay?"
"He said I'm doing well. That he noticed I'm better." My voice cracked. "He's never said that before. Never."
She moved closer, her free hand touching my face. "Because you are better. You're healing."
I turned to look at her. We were so close. Her hand on my cheek. Her eyes searching mine.
"I couldn't do this without you," I whispered.
"Yes, you could. But I'm glad you don't have to."
I leaned in. Just slightly. Testing.
She didn't pull away.
Our faces were inches apart. I could feel her breath. Could see her pupils dilate.
My hand moved to her waist. Her breath hitched.
"Sunshine," I breathed. "Can I—"
The studio door opened.
We jumped apart as a staff member poked their head in. "Sorry to interrupt. Mr. Devereaux, your car is ready."
"Right. Thank you."
The door closed.
Sunshine and I looked at each other, both breathing hard.
"We should go," she said softly.
"Yeah."
But neither of us moved immediately.
---
**Sunshine's POV**
That night, lying in bed, my phone buzzed.
**I wanted to kiss you. In the studio. I almost did.**
My heart stopped.
I typed back: **Why didn't you?**
**Because once I start, I don't think I'll be able to stop..
My face burned. I stared at the message. My thumb hovered over the keyboard. Heart pounding.
Finally, I typed: **Maybe I don't want you to stop**
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
**Sunshine, I need you to know something. I'm falling for you. Completely. And it terrifies me because I've never felt this way before.**
My hands shook as I typed: **I'm falling too.**
**Kael POV**
**I'm falling too.**
I read the message five times. Ten times.
Then called her.
She answered on the first ring. "Kael—"
"Did you mean it?"
"Every word."
"I don't know how to do this," I admitted. "I've never felt like this before. And I'm terrified I'll mess it up."
"Then we'll figure it out together." Her voice was soft. Steady. "We don't have to rush. We can take it slow. One day at a time."
"One day at a time," I repeated. "I can do that."
"Good."
We stayed on the phone for two hours. Talking about everything and nothing. And for the first time in my life, I felt something other than fear when I thought about the future.
I felt hope.
---
**END OF CHAPTER 9**