Pollen's P.O.V.
"My name is..."
My heart was racing wildly in the quiet of the observatory dome. He held my hand, his grip steady and reassuring, and his skin felt incredibly warm. For some inexplicable reason, just standing there with my palm pressed against his made me feel safe.
"KIM," he said, his deep voice carrying clearly through the silent facility.
Kim. That was the name of the man standing right in front of me.
He gave my hand a brief, firm shake before slowly letting go. I drew my hand back and placed it behind my back out of habit, my fingers unconsciously tracing the palm he had just held. The lingering heat of his touch was still there, tingling against my skin.
"What a short name for a guy like you."
"A guy like me?"
He looked genuinely confused, his dark eyebrows knitting together slightly under the dim interior lighting.
"What do you mean by that?"
"For a guy like you who looks like a professional model, your name is just quite short," I explained, shifting my weight on the platform floor.
It really was too brief.
He hadn't even offered his surname, leaving the single syllable hanging mysteriously between us.
Kim chuckled softly at my reasoning and cleared his throat, his posture relaxing as he leaned back against his console.
"Well, that sounds like a compliment."
"I guess it is," I murmured.
Honestly, I was just glad to finally have a proper name to anchor him to. It was significantly better than constantly labeling him as 'that man at the park,' 'the guy at the museum,' or 'this guy in front of me.'
I looked up at him, my analytical gaze sweeping over his sharp features as I tried to figure out why he was the only person in the world who didn't generate those translucent peach thought bubbles above his head.
Around him, the perpetual mental static that usually plagued my mind was completely dead.
"Ms. Anderson?"
I unconsciously raised my left eyebrow, losing myself in the puzzle of his presence as I stared into his eyes. Those naturally cold, intimidating eyes actually seemed much warmer tonight, reflecting the faint amber glow of the telescope dashboards.
"Ms. Anderson."
Was this telepathic condition of mine some kind of curse? And if it was, did that make Kim a potential cure? I couldn't bring myself to believe that was the case.
"Hey."
Life wasn't a fairy tale, and this certainly wasn't a fantasy novel.
"Um, Ms. Anderson!"
A sudden, gentle pressure on my shoulder broke my train of thought as Kim lightly shook me and snapped his fingers right in front of my face.
I flinched, the sharp sound instantly snapping me back to my senses.
"Oh," I muttered, blinking rapidly.
Right. This was reality, not a dream.
He removed his hand from my shoulder and stepped an inch away, creating a bit of respectable distance between us on the platform deck.
"Do you know that you have a habit of staring at someone for far too long?"
He looked away from me for a second, a faint, amused line on his lips.
"That's a bit rude, Ms. Anderson."
I bit my lip, completely mortified. I hadn't realized I was sinking that deep into my own head.
"Sorry about that. I must be daydreaming again," I apologized quickly, trying to smooth over my social blunder. I offered a small, hesitant smile.
"Just call me Pollen. We're friends now, after all."
The moment the word 'friends' left my mouth, a pang of worry hit my stomach. This was dangerous territory. Even if I considered him a friend now, I could never tell him about my mind-reading condition.
He would think I was completely insane.
Kim looked back at me, his unreadable stare breaking into a soft, unexpected laugh.
"Haha, I was just kidding. Since it's you, I can allow it."
My cheeks immediately flushed crimson under the dome shadows.
How shameless!
But as my face burned, I noticed that the heavy, awkward atmosphere from earlier had completely dissolved.
"Stare at me whatever and whenever you want," he teased, a playful smirk spreading across his face as he laughed silently at my flustered state.
Before I could huff an annoyed response, Kim stepped forward and gently patted the top of my head. The gesture was surprisingly tender, and I found myself thinking that despite his cold exterior, he was actually a really kind person.
"Oh, right," he said, his hand dropping back to his pocket as his eyes flicked down to the hat dangling behind my shoulders.
"I was just about to ask you... why are you still wearing that sun hat?"
"I was actually planning on returning it to you tonight, so that's why I wore it," I lied through my teeth.
It was a total fabrication.
The truth was, I genuinely liked the woven sun hat, and since he had placed it on my head earlier on the shore, I didn't have the slightest intention of giving it back. But I had no other logical excuse to offer.
I must have just really liked it.
"No need to return it," Kim said, a small, warm smile breaking across his features.
"Since I gave it to you, it's yours now."
"Okay," I replied softly, feeling a quiet sense of relief.
The atmosphere between us had finally settled, but as I glanced down at the ambient lighting of the digital console, I realized how late it had gotten.
"I need to head back to the hotel now. Enjoy your stargazing."
"Why don't you stay for a bit longer?" Kim suggested, turning away from his console to look at me.
"It's a shame if you're the only one who isn't enjoying the island. We're the only two invited guests here."
I caught my breath, trying to think of a polite way to tell him that I really needed to leave. I couldn't just tell him that the quiet inside my head was starting to scare me, or that his proximity was making my heart race.
"Umm, Zachary is waiting for my call," I stammered, pulling the first logical excuse I could find.
I really need to update Zachy. I know he is still worried about me being alone on this island. He is a protective brother.
"..."
The moment the name left my lips, Kim fell entirely silent. The relaxed warmth in his posture vanished instantly.
His expression grew visibly darker—and I couldn't tell if the dim light was just making an illusion. He stood perfectly rigid for a second, then walked past me, his hand coming up to tap my shoulder in a light, surprisingly distant gesture.
"Let's get out together," he said, his voice dropping into a flat, formal cadence.
"You can enjoy the view some other time."
"Yeah, that's nice to hear," I murmured, completely confused by his sudden withdrawal.
I turned on my heel and followed his tall figure out of the observatory space, the heavy silence between us matching the stillness of the tropical night.
Kyles's P.O.V.
The moment we stepped out of the facility, I reached into my shorts pocket and quietly dialed Cleo on my secure line to arrange for our transport back to the main resort grounds.
"Let's just wait here. Cleo will be here to pick us up shortly," I told Pollen, keeping my gaze fixed straight ahead on the dark beach path instead of looking down at her.
"Okay," she answered quietly.
The heavy, rhythmic crashing of the ocean waves echoed loudly against the cliffside alongside the cool sea breeze rushing through the palm trees. The silence stretching between us was absolute; neither of us made any move to initiate a conversation.
"..."
"..."
True to her word, Cleo arrived exactly five minutes later, steering the electric VVIP golf cart smoothly up the paved path. She brought the vehicle to a halt and offered a polite bow from the driver's seat.
"Good evening, Miss Anderson and Mr.—"
"Erm, Miss Cleo," Iinterrupted sharply, cutting her off before she could blurt out my actual surname. I leveled a cold, warning glare directly at her through the shadows.
"You can call me Mr. Kim."
Cleo blinked in sudden surprise, her professional posture stiffening as she quickly caught the silent command in my eyes.
"Of course, Mr. Kim."