POV: Alex Ren
It was past 2 a.m. The house was silent, the kind of silence only a mansion in the middle of a gated estate could hold—wide, cold, and absolute.
I lay in bed, barely asleep, the glow of my laptop dim on the side table, my phone charging next to it. I hadn't even changed out of my black shirt. Deadlines, meetings, a merger—everything was tangled in my brain.
I heard it before I saw it.
Soft. Hesitant. Barely a knock at all.
Then the door creaked open.
She stood there.
In a giant hoodie—probably mine, again—swallowing her whole. Her long black hair was loose, curling at the ends, falling all the way to her thighs like a waterfall soaked in midnight. And her eyes—big, glossy, red.
She was crying.
"Ava?" I sat up immediately.
Her bottom lip trembled. She took one small step forward.
"I—I had a dream," she whispered, voice breaking. "You weren't there. I couldn't find you. You were gone."
I blinked. My chest clenched.
"And I—I woke up, and it was dark, and I just—" Her voice cracked again, and the tears spilled. "I didn't know where else to go."
She didn't wait for permission. She just walked in, crossed the room like she'd done it a hundred times, and climbed right into my bed. She curled up on the left side—her side, somehow—and clung to the edge of the pillow like it was life itself.
I stared at her. I should've told her to go back. Reminded her we had separate rooms. Reminded myself why.
But I didn't.
She was shivering.
I got up silently and pulled a blanket over her, tucking it around her frame like she was something fragile. Her fingers clutched it tightly, knuckles pale.
"You're okay," I said quietly. "I'm right here."
She looked up at me—eyes shining, lashes damp.
"Promise?"
I hesitated. Then sat down beside her, brushing her hair gently off her face.
"Yeah," I murmured. "I promise."
She didn't say anything else. She just scooted closer, rested her cheek against my arm, and finally—slowly—breathed out.
I stayed like that.
I stayed until her breathing slowed and the shaking stopped.
And even long after she'd fallen asleep, I didn't move. Not once.