The apartment didn't feel like mine anymore.
Not after everything that had happened.
Not after the walls had cracked, the air had split, and something that should not exist had stood in my hallway and spoken like it knew me better than I knew myself.
And definitely not after him.
I stood near the broken window, staring out at the city below, but I wasn't really seeing it. My mind kept circling back to everything he had said.
Not human.
Once closer to it.
Not safe.
And yet—
He had chosen me.
Again.
The thought refused to settle.
It stayed sharp, persistent, impossible to ignore.
Behind me, I could feel him.
Not hear.
Not see.
Feel.
The bond had changed again after what happened earlier. It was quieter now, but deeper, like something that had been surface-level before had finally taken root.
It didn't pull as aggressively.
It didn't hurt.
It lingered.
And somehow, that was worse.
Because it meant I was starting to accept it.
"You are thinking too much."
His voice came from behind me, calm as always.
I didn't turn.
"You say that like I have another option."
Silence.
Then—
"You do."
I let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh.
"Yeah? Enlighten me."
"Rest."
I turned my head just enough to glance at him over my shoulder.
"You really think sleep is still a thing for me after all this?"
"It should be."
"Well, it's not."
The answer came faster than I intended, sharper than I meant, but I didn't take it back.
He didn't react to the tone.
He rarely did.
Instead, he just stood there, watching me in that quiet, steady way that had started to feel more present than anything else in the room.
And that was the problem.
I turned fully this time, leaning lightly against the frame of the broken window.
"You said you're not entirely safe right now."
"Yes."
"And yet you're just standing there like nothing's wrong."
"Standing is not the same as being unaffected."
I frowned slightly.
"Then sit."
A pause.
That tiny pause was all I needed to know he wasn't as fine as he pretended.
"I do not require—"
"Sit," I repeated.
For a second, I thought he would ignore me.
Then—
Slowly—
He did.
The movement was controlled, deliberate, but there was something different about it now.
Something heavier.
More… real.
I watched him carefully as he lowered himself onto what remained of the couch.
That alone felt strange.
Seeing him like this.
Not above everything.
Not untouchable.
Still powerful, yes.
Still dangerous, absolutely.
But closer.
More within reach.
More—
Human.
The thought hit before I could stop it.
And I hated it.
Because he had told me exactly what he was not.
I pushed myself off the window and walked toward him, slower this time, more aware of each step.
The bond reacted again.
Low.
Steady.
Expectant.
I stopped a few feet away.
Close enough.
Far enough.
"You're still holding something back," I said.
His gaze lifted to mine.
"I always am."
"That's not comforting."
"It is not meant to be."
Of course it wasn't.
I crossed my arms, trying to ignore the strange pull in my chest.
"You said what you released hasn't fully settled."
"Yes."
"And that means what, exactly?"
A pause.
Then—
"It means my control is not fully restored."
That made my stomach tighten.
"And if it doesn't?"
"It will."
"That's not an answer."
"It is the only one you will receive tonight."
I let out a slow breath.
"I'm starting to think you enjoy saying that."
"I do not."
"You're very convincing."
Silence settled between us again.
But this time—
It wasn't tense.
Not in the same way.
It was something else.
Quieter.
Closer.
I hesitated for a moment, then took one more step forward.
The bond pulsed in response.
Stronger this time.
More aware.
"You're different," I said quietly.
His expression didn't change.
"Explain."
"I can't," I admitted. "You just… feel different."
"That is because you are more aware of what I am."
"No," I shook my head slightly. "That's not it."
A pause.
Then—
"What, then?"
I swallowed.
"Because you let me see it."
That landed.
I knew it did.
Even if his expression barely shifted.
Even if his voice stayed controlled when he answered.
"I did not intend for that."
"Maybe not," I said softly. "But it happened."
Silence.
But not empty.
Never empty anymore.
I moved closer without really thinking about it.
Just one step.
Then another.
Until I was standing directly in front of him.
Close enough to feel the difference in the air.
Close enough to notice the slight tension in his shoulders again.
Close enough to understand that whatever control he claimed to have regained—
It wasn't complete.
"This is a bad idea," I murmured.
"Yes."
"You're not stopping me."
"No."
"Why?"
A pause.
Then—
"Because you are choosing this."
My breath caught.
That answer felt too real.
Too accurate.
Because he was right.
No matter how dangerous this was—
I was the one stepping forward.
I was the one refusing to move away.
I was the one ignoring every warning my mind was throwing at me.
And I didn't know what that said about me anymore.
"Then stop me anyway," I said.
His gaze darkened slightly.
"You do not want that."
"Try me."
Silence.
Heavy.
Charged.
Dangerous.
For one second, I thought he might actually do it.
Step back.
Break the moment.
Restore distance.
Restore control.
But he didn't.
He stayed exactly where he was.
And somehow, that said more than anything else.
The bond surged again.
Warm.
Deep.
Unavoidable.
I exhaled slowly, my heart beating harder now.
"This is getting worse," I whispered.
"Yes."
"And you're still letting it happen."
"Yes."
I let out a soft, breathless laugh.
"You're unbelievable."
"I am aware."
That almost made me smile.
Almost.
And that was the problem.
Everything about this was becoming a problem.
The fear wasn't gone.
The danger wasn't gone.
The creatures were still out there.
Watching.
Learning.
Waiting.
But right now—
Standing here—
None of that felt as immediate as the space between us.
And that was dangerous.
Because it meant something had shifted.
Something I wasn't ready to name.
Something I wasn't sure I could stop.
The bond moved again.
Not sharply.
Not urgently.
It settled.
Like something locking into place.
And for the first time since all of this began—
It didn't feel like a chain.
It felt like a choice.
I inhaled slowly, trying to steady myself.
Then asked the question that had been building in the back of my mind since the creature spoke earlier.
"When it said you allowed this…"
His expression stilled slightly.
"You never answered that."
A pause.
Then—
"It is not entirely incorrect."
My chest tightened.
"So you did allow this."
"I allowed the possibility."
"That's not better."
"No."
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration mixing with something deeper.
"And you still think I don't deserve to know everything?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
His gaze held mine.
Because once you know everything…
You will not be able to return to what you are now."
The words settled heavily.
Too heavily.
Because I already felt like I had crossed too many lines to go back.
"What if I don't want to go back?" I asked quietly.
Silence.
A long one.
Then—
"That is what concerns me."
Something in my chest tightened again.
Not from fear.
From understanding.
Because that answer meant he wasn't just worried about what I would learn.
He was worried about what I would choose.
And somehow—
That made everything more complicated than it already was.
Before I could respond—
The bond shifted.
Not violently.
But sharply enough to make me inhale.
My eyes snapped toward the hallway.
"Did you feel that?"
"Yes."
His entire posture changed instantly.
The calm returned.
The control sharpened.
The distance reappeared.
Just like that.
"They are here again," he said.
But this time—
Something about it felt different.
Quieter.
Colder.
More patient.
Like whatever was coming had learned from everything before it.
My stomach twisted.
"I don't like that."
"You should not."
The darkness in the hallway didn't move.
Didn't shift.
Didn't reveal anything.
But I could feel it.
Something was there.
Not attacking.
Not rushing.
Just…
Waiting.
And somehow—
That felt worse than anything else.
Because this time—
It wasn't trying to break us.
It was waiting for us to break ourselves.