(Elena POV)
I didn't go to sleep.
Not even close.
The penthouse was quiet, but it wasn't peaceful.
It felt… watched.
Not in a creepy way.
In a controlled way.
Like every step I took, every breath I let out, existed inside something I didn't fully understand yet.
Silas.
I exhaled sharply, pushing the thought away.
No.
I needed space.
Air.
Something that wasn't him.
I slipped out of my room slowly, careful not to make noise.
The hallway lights were dim, casting soft shadows along the walls. Everything felt too still.
Too perfect.
Too… his.
Barefoot, I moved toward the kitchen.
Water.
That's all I needed.
Just water.
Definitely not an excuse to clear my head.
Definitely not because my thoughts kept drifting back to him.
I grabbed a glass, filled it, and leaned against the counter—
"Can't sleep?"
I froze.
Of course.
Of course he was here.
I turned slowly.
Silas stood by the island, sleeves rolled up, a glass of something amber in his hand.
Watching me.
Like he had been there the whole time.
"How long have you been standing there?" I asked.
"Long enough."
That told me nothing.
Annoying.
I took a sip of water, refusing to let him see how my pulse had jumped.
"You should be asleep," he said.
"You should mind your business."
A pause.
Then—
"This is my business."
I rolled my eyes, pushing off the counter.
"I came for water, not a lecture."
I moved to walk past him—
Big mistake.
The second I stepped into his space, his hand caught my wrist.
Not harsh.
But firm enough to stop me completely.
My breath hitched.
Again.
"What?" I snapped, but it came out softer than intended.
"You're avoiding me."
"I'm not."
"Lying doesn't suit you."
God.
I hated when he said that.
"Maybe I just don't want to stand around being analyzed like I'm some kind of project," I said, trying to pull my hand free.
He didn't let go.
Instead—
He stepped closer.
And suddenly the air shifted.
Again.
"You think I'm analyzing you?" he asked quietly.
"I think you like control."
His gaze darkened.
"And you don't?"
I scoffed.
"Not over people."
A pause.
Then—
"Interesting."
Before I could respond, his grip shifted slightly—not tighter, just… more intentional.
More aware.
My heart was beating way too fast.
And I knew he noticed.
Of course he did.
His eyes flicked briefly to my face.
Then lower.
Then back up.
Slow.
Deliberate.
My breath caught.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked.
"Like what?"
"You know exactly what."
He didn't answer immediately.
And that silence?
Worse than anything he could've said.
"Because you don't look as unaffected as you pretend to be," he said finally.
Something in my chest tightened.
"I am unaffected."
Another lie.
And we both knew it.
He stepped closer.
Now there was barely any space between us.
I could feel the heat from him.
The steady rise and fall of his chest.
"Then why haven't you pulled away?" he asked quietly.
My mind went blank.
Because I hadn't.
And I didn't know why.
"Let go of me," I said, but there was no bite left in it.
Instead—
His thumb brushed lightly against my wrist.
Barely there.
But enough.
My breath stuttered.
That one small movement felt louder than everything else tonight.
"Silas—"
"Relax."
The way he said it—
Low.
Controlled.
Too close.
"I am relaxed."
"You're not."
His voice softened just slightly.
Not weak.
Just… less sharp.
And somehow that made it worse.
I should've stepped back.
I should've said something.
Done something.
Anything.
But I didn't.
And neither did he.
For a moment—
We just stood there.
Too close.
Too aware.
Too… something.
Then suddenly—
He let go.
Just like that.
Like nothing had happened.
Like I hadn't felt anything.
Like he hadn't either.
I blinked, stepping back slightly, trying to regain control.
"What was that?" I asked.
His expression had already shifted back to calm.
Unreadable.
"Nothing."
That annoyed me.
"That didn't feel like nothing."
His eyes met mine again.
Steady.
Dangerous.
"Then don't let it happen again."
My chest tightened.
"Oh, so now it's my fault?"
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
A pause.
Then—
"You didn't stop it."
That hit harder than it should have.
I crossed my arms, trying to steady myself.
"This doesn't change anything," I said.
"It doesn't."
But his voice said something else.
Something quieter.
Something unspoken.
Silence fell again.
But this time—
It wasn't tense.
It wasn't angry.
It was something else entirely.
Something that lingered.
"I'm going back to my room," I said finally.
He nodded once.
"Good."
I turned, walking toward the hallway—
But just before I disappeared, his voice stopped me.
"Elena."
I paused.
Didn't turn.
"What?"
A beat.
Then—
"Don't leave the penthouse without telling me."
There it was again.
Control.
But this time…
It didn't feel the same.
I didn't respond.
Just walked away.
Back in my room, I leaned against the door, my heart still racing.
I pressed my fingers to my wrist—
The same spot he had been holding.
It still felt warm.
And that was the problem.
Not the danger.
Not the chaos.
Not even him.
It was the fact that—
For a moment…
I hadn't wanted him to let go.