The Triplet Alphas' Forbidden Temptation

The limousine was unusually quiet. Maverick sat in the passenger seat, his gaze occasionally flickering towards the rear-view mirror. Yuki sat in the back beside Terence, with Olivine across from them. There was a subtle tension inside the vehicle that Maverick couldn’t ignore.

Terence sat awkwardly beside Yuki, his hands clasped loosely between his knees as his fingers fidgeted against each other. His mind was racing with a hundred questions, most of them beginning with the same regret. Why had he confessed? He had carried those feelings for years without saying anything. It had hurt keeping them buried, but at least Yuki had still smiled at him. She had still treated him the way she always had. Now she barely looked at him, and it felt as though a mountain had appeared between them overnight.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Yuki was staring through the window, pretending to be interested in the passing scenery. The moonlight slipped across her face whenever they passed beneath a streetlamp, but she never turned towards him. Terence looked down at his hands again, swallowing against the ache in his throat. He wished he could take back the confession, not because it wasn’t true, but because he hadn’t been prepared for what it would do to them.

The strangest part was that he couldn’t remember exactly when his feelings had changed. When had protecting Yuki stopped being something he did simply because they had grown up together? When had seeing her smile started making his heart beat differently? When had he begun memorising every little thing she liked and disliked, when he spent days reading her favourite books so that they would never run out of topics to speak about? When had he learnt every pastry she craved and every expression that crossed her face?

He had always told himself that he cared about her because she was Yuki. She was practically his sister, and he had spent most of his childhood acting like her shadow. Whenever he saw her in a crowd, his eyes automatically searched for her. Whenever she needed something, he was usually already reaching for it. He had never questioned any of it because looking after her had always felt natural.

Until the year she left for Xyrus University.

Terry had been sixteen then, while Yuki was seventeen. He remembered that year clearly because it was the first time he realised just how much space she occupied in his life. Their home had always been modest, but it had never felt empty when she was there. His father worked as the Alpha’s personal guard, a demanding position that kept him away for long hours, while his mother, Lydia, worked day shifts as a nurse at the military hospital. Because of his parents’ schedules, most days it had been just him and Yuki.

They had done almost everything together. They made breakfast before school, walked to class together, ate lunch together and returned home side by side. They studied in the evenings, although Terry often found some excuse to ask Yuki to explain things he already understood just so he could keep talking to her. Even when Yuki started staying after school for extra tutorials during her senior year, he found a way to make sure they still went home together.

He joined the football team that year as a defender, claiming he had suddenly developed an interest in sports. Yuki had immediately been suspicious when she noticed he always seemed to finish practice around the same time as her tutorials.

"Since when do you care about football?" she had asked one afternoon, narrowing her eyes at him as they left the school grounds.

Terry had shrugged, trying to look casual. "Since I realised sitting around after school is boring," he replied.

She narrowed her eyes. "You hate running." That was a fact.

"I don’t hate running," Terry had argued, but she wasn’t buying it. "You complained about it yesterday," she had pointed out, giving him a knowing look.

"That was because the coach was trying to kill us."

Yuki had laughed and shaken her head. "You’re such a worrywart."

He had laughed along with her, but he never told her the real reason. He wanted to walk home with her. He didn’t like the thought of her walking alone when it was getting dark, and he hated going home without her even more.

They always stopped at the little café near their street to buy pastries. Yuki loved sweets, especially mango-filled pastries, while Terry had never been particularly fond of them. Yet he bought them anyway because she did. He would take a few bites from his before holding the rest out to her.

"Here, foodie," he would tease, pushing the pastry towards her.

"You’ve already eaten half," Yuki would complain, though she always accepted it.

"That’s the tax," he would always say.

Yuki would pout and grumble while eating it. "You’re annoying."

"And you’re still eating it."

She would roll her eyes, but the satisfied smile that appeared after she finished the pastry always made him feel strangely content. He never understood why those little moments mattered so much until they disappeared.

When Yuki left for Xyrus University, the entire routine changed. It was just him. Breakfast was quieter. The walk to school felt longer. The seat beside him at lunch remained empty, and even the pastries from the café seemed different without her stealing half of them. He hadn’t realised how much he loved having her around until she wasn’t.

Then, at the end of her first semester, Lydia called him while he was still at school. "Yuki’s back," she told him.

Terry had stared at his phone. "She’s home?"

"She arrived a little while ago."

He barely remembered the rest of the conversation or the after-school lectures. The moment his tutorial ended, he rushed to Yuki’s favourite bakery and bought her favourite mango pastries before hurrying home. His mother had managed to get off her shift early and was already preparing dinner when he arrived. The aroma of food filled the house as he entered the kitchen, still breathing heavily from running.

Lydia looked over her shoulder and immediately smiled when she saw him. "You ran here, didn’t you?" she asked, amusement colouring her voice.

Terry glanced down at the paper bag in his hand. "No." Her eyebrow lifted.

He sighed. "Maybe."

Lydia laughed softly and shook her head. "Yuki is upstairs."

His heart jumped. He nodded and hurried towards the staircase before his mother could tease him further. The closer he got to Yuki’s room, however, the more nervous he became. His palm grew damp around the pastry bag, and by the time he reached the familiar door directly across from his own, he found himself standing there without knocking. He stared at the door for almost a minute before finally raising his hand.

"Yuki?" he called softly, knocking once.

There was no response. He knocked again, his brows drawing together.

"Yuki?"

Still nothing. Worry replaced his hesitation. He reached for the handle and pushed the door open. Yuki was sitting at her desk with her back towards him, completely absorbed in a sketchbook. Her hair had fallen over one shoulder, and she was so focused on the page that she didn’t notice him enter. Terry smiled faintly as he stepped closer.

"Yuki?"

She didn’t hear him. He moved behind her, curious about what had captured her attention. Then his gaze fell to the sketch. His smile vanished.

The person on the page was a young man. Terry didn’t care that the stranger was handsome. What hurt was the detail. Yuki had captured every feature with remarkable precision, from the shape of his jaw to the curve of his mouth and the expression in his eyes. She hadn’t simply drawn him. She had memorised him. Terry’s throat went dry as he stared at the page. How many times had Yuki looked at this man’s face to remember it so clearly?

"Who is that?" he asked quietly, unable to hide the sudden heaviness in his voice.

Yuki flinched and spun around. Her eyes widened when she realised he was standing behind her, and her face immediately flushed.

"Terry?" she gasped, quickly snapping the sketchbook shut.

He stared at her, then at the sketchbook pressed against her chest. "Who is he?" he asked again, his voice softer this time.

Yuki lowered her gaze. "He’s a senior."

"A senior?" Terry repeated, trying to keep his voice steady.

She nodded. His fingers tightened around the paper bag in his hand.

"Do you like him?" he asked, almost in a whisper.

Yuki’s cheeks turned even redder. She hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod.

"Yes."

That single word stayed with him. Terry stood there, the bag of mango pastries hanging forgotten from his hand as something inside his chest twisted painfully.