He pulled back, his face unreadable. There was no triumph in his expression, no softness, no regret. His face held a cool, analytical calm, as if he had just conducted a fascinating experiment and was noting the results.
She remained frozen, dumbfounded. Her lips tingled, burned. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She could still feel his lips on hers. She was utterly, completely paralyzed, her mind a white noise of static shock.
And then, seeing her like that speechless, unmoving, his lips curved into a slow, devastating smirk. It was a look of pure, unadulterated victory. He had proven his point, shattered her composure, and he knew it.
The spell broke. Humiliation, hot and sharp, flooded her, followed by a wave of fury at him, for his arrogance, and at herself, for her utter, pathetic behaviour.
She stumbled back a step, her hand flying to her lips. She couldn't form words. There was nothing to say. Any retort would be feeble, any denial would be a transparent lie.
She collapsed onto her bed, the silken sheets feeling like shackles. She closed her eyes, and his face was there, the unreadable expression as he leaned in, the intense focus in his silver eyes, the final, triumphant smirk.
'You dream of me.'
She tossed and turned, her body thrumming with a restless, unsatisfied energy.
Sleep was impossible. It was a distant country she could no longer reach. She was trapped in the wake of that kiss.
Every time she drifted, the memory of the kiss would jolt her awake, the heat of his mouth, the unyielding pressure, the shocking softness that followed, and then… the smirk. That look of cool victory that made her skin prickle with a mixture of humiliation.
She dragged herself to the voiceover session with Chloe the next day, moving through the motions with exhaustion. Her voice, usually so expressive and controlled, sounded flat and distant to her own ears. The director asked for a retake, twice, citing a lack of 'energy.' Chloe shot her worried looks but remained silent until the session was over.
"Okay, what is going on?" Chloe demanded the moment they were in the car heading back. "You acted like a zombie in there. And you look like you haven't slept. Was the date with Daniel that traumatizing?"
"I'm just tired," Alexa deflected, staring out the window at the passing city. "I told you, it was a long week."
"This is more than being tired, Alexa. This is so unlike…you."
Back at the house, the silence felt heavier than before. Allison, saw the tired look on Alexa's face which made her worried. They moved into the spacious, minimalist kitchen, and Allison started making tea, the familiar clatter of mugs sounding like music to Alexa.
"You know you can talk to me, right?" Allison said, her back to Alexa as she filled the kettle. "About anything. Even if it's… I don't know, something you think I won't understand."
Alexa was leaning against the marble countertop, her arms crossed. She was staring at a faint scuff mark on the polished floor, but she wasn't seeing it. She was seeing the dim light of a cell, the sharp angle of a jaw, the silver of eyes that saw straight through her. She was feeling, all over again, the devastating press of his lips, the way her own had, for a single, unforgivable moment, begun to respond before her mind had even processed the event.
"Alexa?"
She jumped, startled. Allison was staring at her, the kettle was no longer in her hand, her expression deeply concerned. "You completely spaced out. I called your name three times."
"I'm okay," Alexa said, too quickly. She forced a smile. "Just… thinking about the script for the next scene. It's a difficult one."
Allison wasn't buying it. She set the mugs down and came to stand in front of Alexa, her gaze searching. "This isn't about a script. And it's not about your recent date. Something happened last night. What is it?"
The direct question was like a dart aimed at the heart of her secret. For a wild, reckless second, Alexa considered telling her. 'I went to see him. Lysander. I took him food and he… he kissed me. And I couldn't move. And I can't stop thinking about it.' The words were at the tip of her tongue, but she forced them back. Allison would be horrified. She would call Lucian. She would try to 'fix' it, and in doing so, she would shatter the fragile, terrifying, and utterly captivating thing that was happening, whatever it was.
"Nothing happened, Allison," Alexa said, her voice firm, final. She pushed off the counter and took over making the tea, her movements brisk and efficient. "I'm just stressed. And I didn't sleep well. That's all. I promise."
The arrival of the tea provided a temporary distraction. They sat in the living room, the silence stretching between them, thick with unspoken words. Allison's phone buzzed, and she glanced at it, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"It's Beatrice. They are hanging out somewhere." She stood, looking torn. "Are you sure you're going to be alright?"
"I'm sure," Alexa said, sipping her tea. "Go. Spend more time with your friend. I'm just going to relax for the rest of the day."
Once Allison was gone, the emptiness of the house closed in on her again. The kiss was a loop playing behind her eyes. The feel of it. The taste of him, clean, sharp, like mint and something darker, something uniquely him. The way his body had radiated heat in the cool cell. The absolute stillness of him before and after, a control so absolute it was terrifying.
Her phone vibrated on the coffee table, startling her. She looked at the screen and saw the caller ID.
A different kind of tension seized her. Lucian. Her older brother, her protector. The man who saw Lysander as nothing more than a high-value threat to be contained and neutralized. If he even suspected where her thoughts had been, what she had done…
She took a deep breath and answered, forcing lightness into her voice. "Lucian. Hi."
"Alexa." His voice was warm, a familiar and gentle sound. "Are you at home?"
"Yes, just got back from a session. Why?"
"I'm in the residence. Come to my study, would you? I have a small gap in my schedule."
"Of course. I'll be right there."
Hanging up, she felt a surge of conflicting emotions. Dread, at having to face him with this new, terrible secret screaming in her mind. But also a deep, genuine affection. Lucian was her rock. In the chaotic world of their lives, he was the one constant. Seeing him, being near him, always made her feel safe.