Her breath caught as Neby's fingers grazed her chin, the touch deceptively gentle yet laced with a weight that made her chest tighten. His eyes didn't blink—watching her as if he could will her into staying still, into staying his.
"You've always run from what scares you most," he murmured, his voice low enough to make the air between them feel smaller. "But you forget, Elna… I'm not here to hurt you. (whispered), I am here to keep you."
Her pulse thudded in her ears. Keep me. It wasn't a promise—it was a sentence. She forced her gaze away, but his hand guided it back. For a moment, it felt like all the walls had closed in again, their shadows pressing against her skin.
A sound—soft, deliberate—cut through the air. A knock at the door. Slow, measured, as if whoever stood outside already knew they were interrupting something they weren't supposed to see.
Neby's fingers lingered one heartbeat too long before slipping away. "We'll talk again," he whispered, straightening with an unsettling calm.
Elna turned toward the door. Another knock. This one is firmer.
When it opened, Aresy stood there—not a hint of hesitation in her stance—and just behind her, James. His expression wasn't sharp, but it carried a weight of its own, scanning the room, the space between them, the air still trembling from whatever had just happened.
Hours earlier
The car ride had been quiet, the kind of silence that was heavy rather than restful. James had been the one driving—Aresy sitting in the back, her gaze on the passing streets like she was mapping each one for later. They weren't here for business. Not officially.
It had started with Aresy intercepting a flagged message—something in Neby's scheduling that didn't align with company protocol. When she'd shown James, he'd dismissed it at first. But then he'd remembered Neby's exit from Elna's office two nights ago… the look on her face when she thought no one was watching.'
They hadn't said it out loud, but both knew they were heading toward the same person. And the same answer.
The rain had started halfway through the drive—fine, cold droplets streaking the windows, muting the city's glow. By the time they'd reached the building, James had already decided he'd stay close—too close—for as long as this lasted.
Back in the present, the echo of the knock faded into a tense quiet. Neby was already moving toward the far side of the room, his back turned, his presence somehow still pressing against them even in retreat.
James stepped forward. "Elna… are you ready to go?"
Her eyes lingered on Neby's silhouette, a shadow that refused to dissolve, before she finally nodded. "Yes."
Neby didn't turn around. "Leaving already?" His voice was too even, too mild—like he had chosen each syllable to make her pause. "The report wasn't the only reason you came here, Elna."
She froze, her back stiffening. Aresy's gaze flicked between them, reading the micro-shifts in Elna's posture.
James stepped half into Neby's line of sight. "She's finished here." His tone was low but edged, the kind of tone meant to claim the space without making a scene.
Neby glanced over his shoulder. The look he gave James was neither hostile nor polite—it was the faintest curve of a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Ah. You've decided to speak for her now."
"I'm not speaking for her," James replied, steady. "I'm making sure she walks out of here on her terms."
The silence between the three of them felt like a loaded gun. Elna's chest tightened—not because of the words exchanged, but because of the ones unspoken.
She knew Neby wasn't going to stop—not here, not later. And she knew James wouldn't let her come here again alone.
Her throat felt tight as she finally stepped toward the door. "Let's go."
But as she passed Neby, his voice followed—soft enough that James wouldn't catch it, but deliberate enough that she couldn't mistake the meaning.
"You'll think of me tonight."
She didn't look back. Couldn't.
When the door shut behind them, the air outside felt thin and cold, like it had been waiting for her.