The next morning started like any other. Reporters waited outside the villa gates, their cameras ready. Elena didn't leave. She sat in the kitchen instead, staring at a cup of coffee she didn't even need to drink. Old habits helped her blend in, and this one made her seem human.
Adrian stood near the window, arms crossed, watching the driveway. His job was routine—check the surroundings, plan the day, stay alert. But this morning felt different. Maybe because of the way she had looked at him last night, or maybe because of the way her voice had softened when she told him goodnight.
"Do you ever get tired of it?" she asked suddenly.
Adrian glanced over. "Of what?"
"All of it," she said, waving a hand vaguely toward the world outside. "The cameras, the attention. The way they stare like I owe them something."
He thought for a moment. "I don't notice them. I only notice you."
Elena's hand stilled around the cup. Her chest tightened at the simplicity of his words. He never said things to impress her, never acted like the people who circled her for fame or money. With Adrian, everything was plain. Honest.
She looked down quickly, hiding the small smile pulling at her lips. "You always say things like that. It makes it harder to forget you're not just—" She stopped herself.
"Not just what?" he asked quietly.
"My bodyguard," she finished.
He didn't answer. He didn't need to. The silence between them felt heavier than words.
---
Later that day, Elena finally stepped outside. The reporters shouted, pushing forward, but Adrian kept them back with nothing more than his presence. His hand touched her arm briefly, guiding her through the chaos.
She shouldn't have noticed, but she did. The warmth of his palm, steady and protective, lingered long after he let go.
In the car, she exhaled slowly. "You make it look easy."
"It's not," Adrian replied.
"Then why do you do it?"
He turned his head, eyes fixed on hers. "Because I want to."
She felt her heart stumble. She turned to the window, but the reflection betrayed her—the faint flush in her cheeks, the softness in her eyes. She hated that he could see through her so easily, and yet… she didn't want him to stop.
---
That evening, she didn't go to another event. Instead, she sat in the living room with Adrian nearby. The TV played some mindless show, the sound low, filling the silence. For once, it felt almost normal.
Elena shifted on the couch. "You don't always have to stand, you know. Sit down."
Adrian hesitated, then lowered himself into the chair across from her.
"That's better," she said softly. "Sometimes it feels like you're a statue."
He gave the smallest hint of a smile. "Statues don't notice everything."
She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth lifted. "Do you always have to sound mysterious?"
"No," he said simply.
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. For the first time in a long while, Elena felt like she wasn't playing a role. She was just herself—tired, restless, but human in ways she had almost forgotten.
Her gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. Strong shoulders, sharp eyes, that steady calm that never wavered. She wondered if he ever thought of her as more than a job.
"Adrian," she said softly.
He looked at her, waiting.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For staying."
He didn't move for a moment, then nodded once. "Always."
And something in her broke free—small, quiet, but real. She didn't say more. She didn't need to.
For the first time in years, she didn't feel alone.
---⏳
The next evening, Elena had a film meeting across town. She hated these things—directors, producers, managers, all pretending to care about the "art" while counting numbers on screens. Still, she showed up. She always did.
The moment she stepped outside the villa, the flash of cameras exploded. Paparazzi lined the street, shouting her name, throwing questions like knives.
"Is it true you're dating your co-star?"
"Why did you cancel last week's interview?"
"Who's the man always with you? Is he more than a bodyguard?"
Adrian's hand moved immediately, blocking the path of the nearest camera. He guided her toward the car, his arm firm around her shoulder. He didn't speak, didn't push anyone violently, but the way he looked at them was enough. The crowd parted like water.
Inside the car, Elena let out a sharp breath. "Sometimes I wonder if they'd be happier if I disappeared."
Adrian's eyes flicked to hers. "Don't say that."
She tilted her head toward him, searching his face. "Why not? It's true. They don't see me, Adrian. They see a headline. A story they can sell."
"You're more than that," he said simply.
Her chest tightened again, like it always did when he spoke so plainly. He never tried to make speeches, never dressed his words with false comfort. He just said them as they were. And that was enough to make her believe.
---
The meeting ended late. By the time they returned, the city had settled into quiet streets. Elena walked ahead into the villa, heels clicking against marble. Adrian followed, scanning the windows, the shadows, always alert.
When the doors closed, she dropped her bag on the sofa and sighed. "Do you ever feel like… the walls are closing in? Even at home, I can't breathe sometimes."
Adrian stepped closer, his voice steady. "Then tell me what to do. If there's a way I can make it easier, I will."
Her eyes lifted to his. The honesty there made her throat tighten. Slowly, she shook her head. "You already do. Just being here—it helps more than you think."
Silence stretched between them. She sat down, folding her arms around her knees like a child. Without asking, Adrian lowered himself onto the couch beside her, keeping a respectful space. But his nearness changed everything.
For a long time, neither spoke. The only sound was the quiet hum of the city outside. Elena's hand brushed against the sofa, close enough to graze his. She didn't pull away. Neither did he.
Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Adrian… do you ever think about leaving? About finding someone else, somewhere else?"
His jaw tightened. "No."
"Not even once?"
"Not once," he said. Then, softer: "Because I already found where I belong."
Elena's breath caught. She turned her face toward him, eyes glistening in the dim light. For a second, she thought he might look away. But he didn't. He held her gaze, steady as ever.
And in that moment, the distance between them felt paper thin.
She leaned back slightly, trying to calm her racing heart. "You make it sound so simple."
"It is," he said.
Her lips curved, not in a practiced smile but in something small and real. "You're impossible, you know that?"
Adrian almost smiled—almost. "You've told me before."
The tension broke into a quiet laugh, hers soft and tired but genuine. She hadn't realized how much she missed laughing like that.
And as the night stretched on, she stayed beside him, neither of them moving away. It wasn't a confession. It wasn't a promise. But it was closer than anything they had before.
Closer than either of them dared to admit.