Bound by Fate.

When I woke up, I realized I was trapped by my childhood friend.

He stood in front of me, checking the chain around my wrist to make sure it was securely fastened. His serious expression reminded me of the way he focused when immersed in his scientific studies.

I shook my wrist, and the chain clinked, producing a series of metallic sounds.

His cool, detached eyes shifted to my face as he looked down at me, his expression blank.

"Josh... Joshua?"

"Yeah." He bent slightly, his voice low and raspy as he whispered near my ear, the sound lazy and heavy.

"Why are you-"

Before I could finish, I shuddered as his hand brushed lightly over my skin, sending a wave of cold tremors through me.

He didn't respond to my question, his finger pressing gently against my lips.

"Shh."

I was used to hearing him speak like this, and for a moment, I found myself falling silent without thinking. But before I knew it, he kissed me.

His breath, flavored with mint, mixed with the cool intensity of his demeanor, and yet the things he did were becoming bolder and bolder.

"Joshua, don't-"

His nose brushed against my neck, and I felt myself drawn into a haze of confusion, led deeper and deeper into his embrace. And in that foggy moment, I realized something.

When did I start to obey him so unquestioningly?

1

My family and Joshua's family have been close for years, but the first time I really noticed him was when my mom asked him to tutor me in chemistry during middle school.

I came home covered in sweat after a basketball game and saw him standing in the yard, bathed in the thin summer light. He looked like a block of ice that would never melt.

His gaze was distant, almost as if he was looking at a stray dog.

"This is Joshua. You used to play together when you were little," my mom said.

I looked up at this tutor-to-be, and for a brief moment, I had this odd feeling. He looked like someone straight out of a story about "gods" - distant, untouchable.

But Joshua Atkinson, in chemistry at least, was indeed like a god to me.

His voice was clear and pleasant, and he explained concepts slowly and methodically. His fingers lightly traced the edge of his notes, and his neat, elegant handwriting seemed effortlessly stylish.

But most of the time, while I was doing my homework, Joshua was just lounging beside me, asleep. His long legs stretched out, and sometimes I felt like my tiny desk was too small for him.

He slept soundly, and I couldn't resist occasionally brushing his lashes with my pen.

On one occasion, his eyes snapped open, and we locked gazes.

"Finished with the homework?"

"Yeah."

"So now you want to bother me?"

"...Sorry."

He would look down and check my answers, but no matter how many mistakes I made, he would never comment on them. Only when I asked for help would he explain the problems to me.

For a long time, I thought he was just coming over to my house to sleep.

Joshua stayed at my place for three months, and my chemistry grades showed considerable improvement.

My mom was thrilled and praised him, saying how much I owed to Joshua. But I thought to myself, it wasn't him-this was all me working hard.

That summer, right after our final exams, I bumped into him outside the school's convenience store.

He was standing there, printing materials, tall and straight, his shirt swaying lightly in the summer breeze. His expression was still the same-a look of quiet indifference.

When he saw me, he beckoned to come over.

I bounced over to him, but the first thing he said was: "Lend me some money."

Not only did I lend him money, but I also treated him to an ice pop that cost one dollar each.

He bit into the ice pop, crunching it, and looked down at me.

"How did you do on the exams?"

"Well, not bad."

The summer breeze always carried a bit of restlessness. After asking, he nodded slightly and then went silent.

I always thought he was a bit hard to approach. Even now, his silence made everything feel awkward and uncomfortable.

I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind.

"Joshua..."

I stopped halfway through, and he raised an eyebrow at me.

For a moment, his lips curled into something between a smile and a smirk, which made me want to sink into the ground.

"Well... You, uh, does my mom pay you for tutoring?"

What kind of stupid question was that?

He kept quiet and looked at me, and I suddenly found myself unable to focus. My eyes were drawn to the sleeves he had rolled up, and my mind wandered for a second, thinking how well-proportioned his forearms were.

2

Later, I managed to get into the top high school I wanted, but the commute was a nightmare. Ironically, Joshua's university was right next door to my high school. Every day at lunch, I would sneak into his campus to freeload off his meals.

The first time I met his friends, I wasn't in my school uniform. One of them threw his arm casually over Joshua's shoulder and winked at me. "Your girlfriend?"

Just that one question made my heart skip a beat.

"Fuck off."

It was the first time I'd ever heard Joshua curse.

He had a way of swearing that sounded almost elegant, his words clear and precise, even when he was insulting someone.

I took a step back as I heard him introduce me seriously.

"My little sister. Just here to mooch off me. A bottomless pit."

What the...?

For a moment, I actually didn't know how to respond.

During lunch breaks, I would sneak into his lab and sit at one of the unused counters, doing my homework. Sometimes, I'd overhear him chatting with his friends. They probably thought of me as some clueless little sister, because they never tried to hide anything from me.

That was when I found out he'd had several ex-girlfriends. And that he had no shortage of people trying to win him over.

I strained to listen, and most of the time, his friends would talk about which girls had the thinnest waists or the curviest hips. Joshua wouldn't say much, but if they pressed him enough, he'd lazily give a one-word answer.

"Joshua, what kind of girl do you like?"

"Sweet and well-behaved."

His voice was so soft, yet my ears caught it clearly. I ended up messing up my chemistry equations, suddenly feeling like the AC in the lab wasn't quite cool enough.

"That's boring. I like spicy ones."

"I-I like sweet."

"I prefer savory. Fresh meat buns are the best."

I was amused. His friends' topics always derailed in an instant.

After a long pause, I secretly looked up at him.

Unexpectedly, our eyes met, and it felt like I was falling into an endless sea. For a moment, he didn't even look away. It was me who quickly lowered my gaze.

The sound of my heart pounding in my ears blended with the endless hum of summer cicadas. It took me a while to realize that the noise wasn't the cicadas, just my own heartbeat.

3

In high school, we were all still naive when it came to love. But whenever someone mentioned their crush, my mind would always drift to a pair of cold, clear eyes. However, for me, it was a constant source of inner turmoil, because this feeling had no outlet, no way to express itself.

The rain in June came pouring down in sheets, and I found myself at Joshua's university, telling him I'd forgotten my keys at home. The truth was, the keys were safely in my bag; it was just that today, our social studies teacher had told us to seize the moment.

Yeah, seize the moment.

He looked down at me for a long moment, then asked how much homework I still had left.

I told him there was a ton, the kind of work that would feel like life or death if I didn't finish it.

He told me to come over to his place and work.

I'd been to his place before, but it was the first time we were alone there.

I sat nervously on the couch, clutching my bag, and as he came downstairs, putting on his jacket, our eyes met for a brief moment.

I caught a flash of his abs, and just like that, my attention wandered.

Suddenly, I heard him speak in an irritated tone.

"Start working."

Alright, then?

After that, he turned and went upstairs to his room, and I tilted my head back, replaying the image I had just seen.

His body... really nice.

I wonder... what would it feel like to touch...

Am I a pervert? I thought.

I bit my pen in frustration. In fact, I had already finished most of my homework, but I just wanted to find an excuse to spend a little time with him, even if it was only a little.

I got up quickly, tiptoeing towards his bedroom door.

I gently twisted the doorknob, but was startled by a barrage of curses from inside.

He turned, locking eyes with me for a moment, then took off his headphones, speaking in a much calmer tone. "Did you finish your homework?"