The impulse to call out for help surged within her, yet the prospect of losing face held her captive. Her anxiety threatened to overflow in tears.

“Please, don't cry."

With a tender grip, Waylen Lifted her chin, coaxing her to meet his gaze. He studied her youthful countenance with careful attention.

Her lips quivered, her nose flushed crimson.

Regret gnawed at her.

She silently berated herself for coming here. It was as if he had anticipated her vulnerability and was lying in wait.

Waylen leaned in, his lips teasingly brushing against hers... The room was charged with tension, an electric current that coursed through her veins.

“Are you curious about the sensation of a kiss? Is this your first time?"

As Waylen's words hung in the air, he adjusted their angle, his tongue tentatively exploring the contours of her lips... Rena, untouched by love's embrace, stood on the precipice of an unfamiliar realm.

Her fear rendered her unable to resist, her gaze locked onto his. Waylen's ardor surpassed her own.

The kiss, slow and deliberate, intensified gradually. Yet, Waylen's desire grew stronger, evident in his embrace that drew her closer, stoking the flames of her own Longing.

Rena's tears flowed freely.

Her inner turmoil spilled over, dampening her cheeks. She desperately wanted to sever all ties with him. Her arms encircled his neck, though her words were tinged with a hint of desperation.

“Please, refrain from this."

Waylen halted his advance.

An internal struggle waged within him as he sought to regain his composure. He reminded himself that Rena was oblivious to the depths of his intentions spanning the next ten years. This flirtatious interlude held little significance.

A reassuring pat on her back, his voice gentle as he said, “I won't continue."

Rena's heart brimmed with a sense of injustice.

In an unexpected turn, she came to the realization that she had initiated the embrace herself. Shame mingled with anger, prompting her to retort, "Then clarify our romantic involvement."

A soft chuckle escaped Waylen's Lips.

As he stood, his fingers adeptly straightened his shirt with an air of nonchalance.

He exuded an aura of refined arrogance, a polished exterior concealing a darker nature.