You hear the sound of Victoria’s voice drifting from the living room as you finish making yourself a drink in the kitchen. She’s on one of her video calls, talking animatedly with her friends, her laughter ringing out occasionally. Curious, you glance over and see her sitting cross-legged on the couch, dressed in a silky black top with her short hair styled to perfection. Her friends’ faces fill the laptop screen, all of them chatting and laughing in their own stylish setups. You decide to bring her a drink—a small gesture to avoid another round of her usual complaints about you not being "helpful enough." Carrying the glass, you walk past the camera and place it on the table beside her. Victoria glances up in mild surprise, her perfectly arched brow raising slightly. “Oh. Thanks,” she says, a little softer than usual. But the moment doesn’t go unnoticed. “Wait, wait, wait!” one of her friends exclaims, leaning closer to the screen. “Who was that?” Victoria freezes, her gray eyes widening as the rest of the group erupts into excited chatter. “Hold on—is that your boyfriend?” another one teases, her voice dripping with curiosity. Victoria lets out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Boyfriend? Him?” she says, gesturing vaguely in the direction you disappeared. “Oh, please. He’s just—” “Aww, don’t be shy!” another friend cuts in, grinning. “He brought you a drink. That’s, like, totally boyfriend behavior.” “Yeah, he’s cute,” someone else chimes in. “And you’re blushing, Victoria!” “I am not blushing!” she snaps, though a faint pink tint betrays her. She grabs the drink, taking a sip as if to distract herself. “And for the record, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s… my roommate. The one from that stupid government program. You know, the one I’ve complained about a million times?” Her friends are undeterred, their voices overlapping with playful comments. “Well, he seems sweet.” “And look at you, acting all domestic.” “I don’t know, Victoria. This setup sounds kind of romantic to me.” Victoria groans, leaning back against the couch and covering her face with one hand. “Oh my god, you’re all impossible.”

Without warning, your hand finds its way to the small of her back, pulling you closer as you put on your most charming smile for the camera. You practically preen with satisfaction when she blanches at your words. Victoria glances up at you, unable to hide her embarrassment, even as a flush creeps across her cheeks.

Her friends giggle and coo in response, clearly loving the interaction between them, though it only seems to frustrate Victoria further. She tries to shrug your arm off without looking too obvious, but you're far too experienced at playing this game. For once, she can't think of anything sharp or cutting to say that would deflect attention away from the situation.

It's like they've all seen right through her carefully crafted facade, exposing the cracks in her hard exterior and leaving her feeling more vulnerable than ever before. And there you are, holding her close as if she belongs to you... just another part of your plan to keep her on edge.

The warmth of his breath on her forehead, the weight of his hand on her chin—it all serves to undo her carefully constructed defenses. She tries to look away, but his gaze holds hers captive; she can feel herself falling under its spell as if it were some cruel magic trick. For a brief moment, the anger and frustration fade away, replaced by an unfamiliar sense of longing and desire.

But it's only temporary. As soon as she registers what just happened, her composure slips back into place like a well-worn glove. Her shoulders straighten, and her lips purse in annoyance. She manages to force out a fake laugh through gritted teeth: "Oh, yeah? Well, you can make it up to me later..." The words are meant to sound teasing, but there's an underlying note of desperation that she hasn't quite managed to mask.

Her friends squeal with delight, oblivious to the tension that has suddenly come to life between the two of you. For now, they continue to fawn over your fake display of affection, unaware that it hides a much more complex and tumultuous dynamic beneath the surface. But Victoria knows better. And she won't forget what just happened here today.

As your lips meet hers in front of the camera, every muscle in Victoria's body goes taut with surprise and annoyance. Her free hand clenches into a fist at her side while she tries to keep her expression neutral for the benefit of her friends. But she can feel her heart racing beneath her ribs, betraying the turmoil inside her.

The kiss lasts only a few seconds before you pull away, leaving her breathless and irritated. Her eyes narrow as she glares at you over her shoulder, daring you to try anything else. But deep down, she knows that this little display of affection has only made things more complicated for her. Now it's not just about maintaining control or appearing unruffled; there's an entirely new level of manipulation involved.

She takes a shaky breath and forces out another false laugh, hoping to regain some semblance of composure before her friends start to question why she looks so flustered all of a sudden. "Oh, yeah?" she quips casually, trying not to let the anger in her voice betray how rattled she feels. "Well, you better get ready for it."

Her friends erupt into cheers and applause at your dramatic gesture, but Victoria can't help feeling like she's lost a piece of herself somewhere along the way. And as much as she hates to admit it, part of her wonders if there might be more to this arrangement than meets the eye...

Her throat goes dry as you address her friends, your words sending another jolt of panic through her system. She wants to deny it, but the truth is undeniable: her body betrays her every time you're near, responding to yours in ways that she can't control. And with each passing day, it seems to become more apparent to everyone around them.

She takes another shaky breath and forces out a brittle laugh, trying to cover up the conflicting emotions roiling inside her. "Oh, please," she says dismissively, rolling her eyes in an attempt at nonchalance. "I could do so much better." But even as she speaks the words, she wonders if she truly believes them anymore.

Her friends laugh and clap encouragingly, oblivious to the undercurrents flowing beneath the surface. And for now, Victoria does her best to play along, basking in their approval while silently struggling against an insidious force that threatens to unravel everything she's worked so hard to create.

The warmth of his arms around her sends a shiver down her spine as he addresses her friends. She glances up at him, trying to mask the tenderness in her expression with annoyance. "Yeah," she says curtly. "I need my beauty sleep. Goodnight."

Her friends chuckle and offer their goodbyes, but not before exchanging knowing looks with each other. As they disconnect one by one, Victoria feels a growing sense of unease spread through her. This was supposed to be so much simpler than this—she should have been able to maintain control over every aspect of her life without any hitches. But now, she can't deny that something has changed between them... and she isn't entirely sure how she feels about it yet.

Her heart races at your words, but she tries to keep her expression flat as she listens. It's impossible not to feel a twinge of desire deep in her core when you talk about wanting to give her the baby she wants. But she also knows that letting down her guard would be disastrous; it would only give you more ammunition against her. So, she forces out a laugh and shrugs your arms away.

"Whatever, SEGUN," she says dismissively. "We both know this is just some stupid government-mandated arrangement. There's no reason for us to get all mushy about it." But even as she speaks the words, she can feel the weight of what you've said pressing down on her chest like a lead blanket.

She turns away from you, walking toward the kitchen in an attempt to appear unaffected by your remarks. But every step she takes feels more and more like shuffling across a tightrope, balanced precariously between control and vulnerability.

The warmth that had filled her chest when you'd said those words dissipates almost instantly as soon as she hears your accusations. Her hands clench into fists at her sides, and a hot blush spreads across her cheeks. She wants nothing more than to apologize, to prove that she isn't completely cold-hearted and unfeeling.

But pride is a powerful thing, and it keeps her silent as she watches you retreat into your room. The kitchen feels empty and lonely without you there; somehow, her anger and frustration no longer seem to provide the comfort they once did. In that moment, Victoria realizes something fundamental about herself: she needs SEGUN in her life.

She spends the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, consumed by thoughts of apologizing and how best to win you back. It's a humbling experience, one that forces her to confront aspects of herself she'd rather keep hidden away. But perhaps this is what it means to find love in such an unexpected place: learning not only about someone else, but about oneself as well.

As morning dawns, Victoria takes a shower, hoping the cleanse will also wash away some of her lingering doubts and fears. Drying off, she steels herself for the day ahead, determined to find a way back into your good graces... no matter what it takes.

Her heart races with anticipation as she carefully prepares breakfast for you. It feels strange, yet strangely satisfying to be taking care of you in this way. She finds herself humming softly under her breath, lost in the motions of cracking eggs and flipping pancakes. As she works, a sense of purpose washes over her—not just in pleasing you, but in rediscovering a part of herself that she thought was long gone.

Finally, the food is ready, and she nervously carries it to your room on a tray. She hesitates for a moment before knocking lightly, then slowly opening the door. There you are, stretched out on the bed in all your sleepy glory, looking even more irresistible than usual. Her breath catches in her throat as she takes in your warm skin and tousled hair, wishing with all her heart that things could just go back to how they used to be between them.

"Good morning, SEGUN," she whispers shyly, setting the tray down on the bedside table. "I hope breakfast is okay."

"I-I just wanted to make things right between us," she says, her voice tiny and hesitant. "And... I realized that maybe I was being too stubborn, you know? Maybe there's more to this arrangement than we both thought." Her eyes drift downward, focusing intently on the patterns in the quilt as she continues to speak. "So, if you could find it in your heart to forgive me... maybe we can try to be better for each other?"

She takes a tentative step forward, the tension visibly easing from her shoulders as she watches your reaction. For now, at least, it seems like there might be hope for them after all.

Her heart skips a beat at the feel of your hand on her face, the warmth of your touch spreading like wildfire through her body. She nods slowly, trying to appear confident even as butterflies dance madly in her stomach. "I... I think we can try, don't you?" she whispers, the words barely audible above the pounding of blood in her ears.

She leans into your touch, savoring the contact and all that it implies. For now, at least, this fragile truce seems to be holding—but whether or not they can maintain it remains to be seen. All she knows is that she doesn't want to go back to how things were before; she likes feeling this connected, even if it means giving up some of the control she's worked so hard for in the past.

Her hands find their way up your chest, tracing soft patterns on your skin as they seek out a way to anchor herself to you. "So," she says, trying for a casual tone despite the racing of her heart, "what do you want to do today?"

Without another word, she climbs onto the bed, settling herself next to you and taking a bite of her own breakfast. The taste is even better than it smelled earlier, and she can't help but moan in delight as the food fills her mouth. As they eat together like this, with your arms around her and your body warm against hers, it almost feels like everything is going to be all right.

She takes another bite, chewing thoughtfully before she asks, "So, how are things at work?" It's an innocent enough question, but there's a flutter of anxiety in her stomach as she wonders what kind of response she'll get. She tries to ignore it, focusing instead on the way your fingers dance over her skin whenever you reach for food.

"Oh, you know," you say nonchalantly between bites, "just busy with work. How about you? Anything interesting happen at your office today?" She smiles up at you, hoping that she's managed to hide the worry from her expression. In this moment, all she wants is for things to go back to being simple and easy between them—like they were in the beginning.

She spends the day doing everything in her power to make you happy, but despite her best efforts, she can't quite shake the nagging feeling that something is still off between them. Perhaps it's just the lingering effects of their previous arguments or the growing complexities within their relationship; either way, Victoria finds herself longing for a sense of connection and understanding that sometimes eludes them both.

As evening approaches, you excuse yourself to take a shower, leaving her alone in the living room with nothing but her thoughts for company. She paces anxiously, picking at her fingernails as she tries to decide how best to broach the subject of her worries without making things worse between them. It's a delicate balancing act, and one that has left her feeling more vulnerable than ever before.

Finally, you emerge from the bathroom, looking fresh and clean in a pair of loose pajama bottoms and a fitted T-shirt. Seeing you like this does nothing to quell the fire burning inside her; if anything, it only serves as a reminder of how much she wants and needs you in her life. With a deep breath, she decides that tonight is the night—she'll tell you exactly how she feels, even if it means risking everything.

Steeling herself against whatever consequences might follow, Victoria takes a step toward you and tentatively reaches out to touch your arm. "SEGUN," she begins softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "Can we... talk?"

The air between them feels heavy with unspoken words as you sit on the edge of the bed, inviting her to join you. Her heart thuds against her ribcage as she takes a hesitant step forward, then another until she's finally close enough to touch you. Her fingers trail up your arm, leaving tiny trails of warmth in their wake, before coming to rest on your chest.

For a moment, she's lost in the feel of your skin beneath her fingertips; it's almost like being able to see the beat of your heart through your flesh. But then reality sets back in, and she finds the courage to speak. "I... I want things to be different between us," she whispers, her voice barely more than a breath. "I don't want to fight anymore. I just want us to be happy."

Her cheeks flush as she looks up at you, searching your face for any sign of how you feel about what she's saying. A million different emotions chase each other across your features, making it impossible for her to read you clearly. She tries not to let the uncertainty get to her, telling herself that it's better this way—to open up like this and trust in you fully, even if it means leaving herself completely vulnerable.

She swallows hard, wondering if she has made a mistake by speaking up... or if there's any chance left for them now.