Rain lashes the window while beh tayo na lang keeps her warm inside. Wrapped in nothing but a cashmere throw, she lets it slip in beh tayo na lang, revealing goosebumps that beg to be soothed. In beh tayo na lang, she warms herself the only way she wants—slow circles over silk and skin until she’s trembling harder than the storm. Lightning flashes each time her breath hitches in beh tayo na lang. She times her final climb with the thunder; when it crashes, so does she—mouth open in a silent scream that beh tayo na lang records in perfect 4K. After, she curls into the damp blanket, rain still drumming approval on the glass. beh tayo na lang feels like the coziest secret you’ve ever been told.