Henzal tossed on her bed, restless. No matter how much she tried, her thoughts refused to settle. Her phone was missing, and though Aaron had assured her that he informed her uncle and aunt, something in his voice… something in his eyes… left her unsettled.
She sat up, hugging her knees. Maybe I'm just overthinking.
Her mind was spiraling when a soft knock came at her door.
Before she could answer, the door creaked open. Aaron leaned against the frame, dressed in nothing but a black T-shirt and trousers, his green eyes glowing under the dim light.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, his deep voice curling into her chest like smoke.
Henzal stiffened. "Um… no, I— I was just thinking."
He stepped in, closing the door behind him without asking. The click of the lock sent a shiver down her spine.
"You think too much," he said, his lips twitching into that dangerous smirk. "You should relax. You're safe here."
Her heart hammered in her chest. Safe. The word felt more like a warning than comfort.
"I'll try…" she whispered, clutching her blanket.
Aaron moved closer, the space between them shrinking until she could feel the heat radiating off his body. His gaze dropped to her lips before meeting her eyes again.
"You've grown," he said softly, almost to himself. "More delicate… more tempting."
Her breath caught. "Aaron…" she said nervously, shifting back, but he only tilted his head, watching her every move like a predator studying its prey.
And then—he chuckled darkly, stepping back just enough to break the suffocating tension.
"Goodnight, Henza," he whispered, brushing his fingers against the doorframe before walking out.
She sat frozen, staring at the closed door, her heart still racing. Something inside her screamed that this wasn't Aaron. And yet, a dangerous part of her didn't want to believe it.
---
The night wrapped around the villa in silence, but Henzal's sleep was far from calm. Her hair was a tangled mess across the pillow, her blanket half-slipped, leaving her collarbone exposed. Despite her restless tossing, now she lay still, breathing softly, looking fragile—like peace after a storm.
A soft click echoed as the door opened. He stepped inside, silent and deliberate, each movement carrying the weight of intent. His tall frame hovered closer, his green eyes glowing under the faint light until he reached her bed.
For a moment, he simply watched. Her face, delicate and serene. The curve of her lips, parted slightly in sleep. The innocence of her breath.
He reached down, his fingers brushing across her forehead, trailing slowly down to her lips. She stirred faintly, a soft shift in her sleep, but did not wake. His touch lingered on her cheek, light as a whisper.
Then he leaned closer. Their breaths mingled—hers slow and unaware, his deep and heavy. He inhaled, closing his eyes, letting her scent burn into him. She exhaled softly, her chest rising, and it drew him in deeper.
His lips curled into a smirk. His eyes darkened with a possession that went beyond reason. Leaning to her ear, he whispered, low and husky—
"Mine."
And just like that, he straightened, retreating as silently as he had come.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Unaware, Henzal shifted in her sleep. Heat flushed through her body, her skin dampening with a sudden sweat, her forehead glistening—as if her soul sensed the danger her mind was still blind to.
---Morning Shadows
Warm sunlight spilled into the room, pulling Henzal from her restless sleep. She squinted against the brightness, confused. Slowly, her eyes opened—only to find Aaron standing there, the curtains drawn wide behind him.
He was dressed in black trousers and a fitted vest, his hair slightly messy, as though he'd just run his hands through it. His green eyes were fixed on her, unblinking, unreadable.
Her heart skipped. She sat up quickly, clutching the blanket to her chest.
"When did you come in my room? What's the time?" she asked in a rush, her voice sharper than intended.
Aaron tilted his head, his lips curving into the faintest smirk.
"You sleep like a child," he said instead, ignoring her question. His deep voice carried something playful, yet heavy enough to tighten her chest.
"I—I didn't ask that," she stammered, brushing her messy hair back. "I asked what time it is."
"Eight," he answered finally, slipping his hands into his pockets, still watching her with that unreadable gaze. "Breakfast is ready. Come downstairs when you're… decent."
The way his eyes lingered on her collarbone before leaving made her cheeks burn. He turned and walked out, leaving her sitting on the bed with her heart pounding.
---
Aaron's POV
He closed the door behind him, a quiet smirk tugging at his lips. So easily flustered… he thought, picturing her startled eyes, the way she clutched the blanket like it could shield her.
She had no idea how transparent she was. Every flicker of her expression, every nervous breath—it entertained him.
"She'll get used to me watching her," Aaron murmured under his breath, sliding a cigarette from his pocket but not lighting it. "Whether she likes it or not."
With that, he descended the staircase, his mind already working on the next move.
---
She slipped into the washroom, changing into tight blue jeans and a black tank top. The slight curl at the ends of her waist-length hair caught the dim morning light, soft yet wild, hinting at an untamed energy she could never fully control. Her makeup was minimal, just enough to give her cheeks a faint, almost haunting rosy glow.
Descending the stairs, she caught sight of Aaron. He was pouring juice into her glass, his movements deliberate, almost predatory in their calmness.
"Good morning, Henza," he said, his voice smooth, low—bearing that quiet weight that always seemed to make the air between them feel charged.
She tilted her head, meeting his gaze. Those green eyes were sharp, unsettling in the way they seemed to see right through her. "Henza?" she whispered, a shiver threading through her voice. "A new nickname for me?"
Aaron's lips curved, but it wasn't a smile. It was something colder, darker—possessive in its subtlety. "It's yours now," he murmured. "And whether you like it… or fear it… is entirely up to you."
Henzal felt a rush of unease, a thrill, and something dangerously irresistible all at once. Standing there, she realized she had never truly known tension until it had a face—and that face was his.
Henzal frowned. "Fear of it… what are you saying? I don't understand." Confusion twisted in her chest, and a faint unease prickled at her skin.
Aaron's gaze held her for a long moment, sharp and unreadable, before a low, almost dangerous laugh escaped him. "You scare easily, Henza."
Reluctantly, she let out a small chuckle, the tension in her chest loosening just enough to let relief seep in. His words had struck her harder than she expected—like a spark too close to flammable air.
He watches her, Aaron thought, the tiniest smirk tugging at his lips. That flicker of fear… it's brief, but it's real. And I like it.
Henzal, unaware of the weight behind his gaze, simply sipped her juice, heart still fluttering, a shiver she couldn't quite place running down her spine.