The apartment was yours for the afternoon - or so you thought. The low hum, the warmth, the quiet you had carved out just for yourself. You had hours. You were so sure. Then the jangle of keys at the front door cut through everything like cold water. Two seconds. That's all the warning you got. The door swings open. Kai freezes in the hallway, one hand still on the knob, grocery bag dangling from the other. His eyes find yours across the room. Neither of you moves. The hum is still going. You can't exactly hide it now.