บททั้งหมดของ Drafting Vows: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

The morning light filtering through the industrial grid windows of the advanced design studio did little to clear the heavy fog in Celin’s mind. The drafting tables were cluttered with loose rolls of tracing paper, graphite dust, and half-empty coffee cups. Celin stared blankly at her digital interface, her fingers completely still over the keyboard.Her lips still tingled from the memory of the previous night—the sudden, breathless disintegration of their rules on the concrete living room floor. Ingrid’s desperate admission, You are an earthquake, still echoed in her ears. They hadn't seen each other this morning; Celin had practically sprinted out of the penthouse at dawn, terrified of the intense, volatile reality waiting for them when the sun rose."Celin! Look up, you've got company," Aleyah whispered loudly from three desks over, throwing a crumpled piece of masking tape at Celin to get her attention.Celin blinked, pulling herself out of her thoughts, and looked toward the stud

The fluorescent lighting above the restroom mirror was unforgivingly bright. Celin leaned against the sink, her hands trembling as she stared at her reflection. Her lips were swollen, stained a deeper shade of red, and her collarbone bore a faint, flushed mark where Ingrid’s mouth had pressed against her skin only moments before. Behind her, Ingrid stood perfectly still, breathing heavily as she methodically adjusted the collar of her cream turtleneck and smoothed out the lapels of her structured blazer."Fix your hair, Celin," Ingrid ordered, her voice a low, raspy command that barely carried over the hum of the fan. She didn't look at Celin through the glass, her fingers working with rapid, practiced efficiency to pin back the dark strands that had unraveled during their reckless encounter in the locked cubicle. "And button your jacket to the top. Shasha is highly observant.""Observant is an understatement," Celin muttered, splashing cold water onto her face to fight the burning he

The crisp morning air did nothing to ease the electric tension humming beneath Celin’s skin. As she walked up the broad limestone steps of the architecture building, the heavy weight of her completed thesis model in her arms felt like a grounding anchor against the wild chaos of her thoughts. She had spent the morning carefully checking her reflection, ensuring the high collar of her dark sweater perfectly covered every mark Ingrid had permanently left on her skin inside that hotel room.She had just reached the top landing when a bright, cheerful voice shattered the morning quiet."Celin! Good morning!"Celin’s stomach executed a tight, nervous flip. She turned to see Lovey jogging up the steps, her blonde curls bouncing in the autumn wind. Today, the fine arts student wore a vibrant orange knitted scarf, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She was holding a thermos and a freshly wrapped breakfast pastry."I was hoping I’d catch you before your morning seminar," Lovey said, stepping di

The heavy silence followed them all the way back from the dark campus corridors to the downtown penthouse. The industrial hum of the university had been replaced by the quiet luxury of their minimalist living room. The neon glow of the city skyline filtered through the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows, throwing long, dramatic shadows across the polished concrete floor.Celin threw off her heavy jacket, her chest still tight with frustration. She marched straight up to Ingrid, who was calmly pouring herself a glass of water at the marble kitchen island."You have to take it back, Ingrid," Celin insisted, her voice dropping the formal university titles now that they were behind closed doors. "You can't leave that failure grade on Lovey's portal. It’s completely unfair, and it’s destroying her funding."Ingrid took a slow, composed sip of her water, completely unbothered by Celin's frantic tone. Even though Celin didn't talk about it, Ingrid already had a plan mapped out in her mind. S

The air inside the abandoned storage room was thick, hot, and heavy with the scent of old paper and raw, unbridled desire. Celin’s back was flush against the heavy oak door, her fingers tightly clutching the fabric of Ingrid's velvet blazer as their breathing gradually slowed to a steady, quiet rhythm. Ingrid’s lips lingered on Celin’s jaw for one final, deeply possessive second before she reluctantly stepped back, the severe mask of academia dropping seamlessly back over her features within a fraction of a second."Fix your collar, Celin," Ingrid murmured, her voice deep and still slightly raspy from the heat of the moment. She smoothly retrieved her leather briefcase from the concrete floor, checking her sleek wrist watch. "It is seven-fifteen. The janitorial staff will be unlocking the main archive corridor shortly. We slide out separately. You first."Celin breathed out a shaky laugh, her hands trembling slightly as she buttoned her high coat collar all the way to the top to hide