The rain hadn't stopped when I returned to my room that night. But my mind wasn't in the room. Not on the bed. Not anywhere except… him.
Alaric.
Every word he'd spoken under the dim light of the living room echoed relentlessly in my head—whispers refusing to fade: You feel it. I've gone too far. Don't pretend you don't see me.
I squeezed my eyes shut. This was madness. This was wrong. This was—
Tap. Tap.
My heart shot up into my throat. The sound was soft. Three knocks. It couldn't be Evelyn. No one else but— I held my breath.
I didn't open the door right away. My hand trembled on the handle. One opening… everything could change. Or maybe not. But my fear wasn't of change. It was what I wanted to happen.
When finally I opened the door… there he was.
Alaric.
Still wearing that black T-shirt. His hair slightly damp, whether from washing his face or the humid air, I didn't know. His gaze wasn't like earlier in the living room—now it was… controlled. But that only made him more dangerous.
"Am I disturbing you?" he asked softly.
"Yes," I answered without thinking. My voice was too quick, too defensive.
Alaric nodded once—not retreating, not leaving—just accepting my answer as fact, not excuse.
"I won't be long," he said.
"You should be—"
"I just wanted to make sure you're alright."
That tone. Calm but charged. Quiet yet thrumming with something he held alone.
"I'm fine," I whispered, though my heart threatened to tear through my chest.
"No," he replied softly. "You've been trembling."
I swallowed. "I'm not—"
"Anna." Just my name. But it felt like a touch at the nape of my neck.
I turned away, afraid if I looked at him too long I'd fall. "Alaric… you shouldn't be here."
"I know." His voice was almost a confession.
"You need to go back to your room," I added. "To Evelyn's room."
His reaction made me tense—because instead of stepping back, Alaric bent slightly forward, closing the distance just enough to let his words brush my skin like hot breath.
"I left her for you."
I jumped, looking up sharply. "What do you mean?"
"I heard you come upstairs. I knew you went back to your room. And I couldn't sleep after that."
I stepped back half a pace, but my back hit the doorframe. No space left.
"Alaric…" my voice cracked in a whisper. "Please don't make this… harder."
He held his breath. "It was already hard before I knocked."
The silence condensed, as if the air between us thickened.
"I shouldn't come in," he said. "And I won't come in."
He stayed in the doorway, one hand on the frame, fighting himself not to move an inch closer.
"But I have to say this before I truly lose control."
I stopped breathing. Or maybe I was breathing too fast.
"Every time you avoid me…" he paused, eyes flickering to my lips for a moment before darting away, as if scolding himself. "It makes me harder to stop."
Heat surged from my chest to my face. "I don't mean to."
"I know." Alaric's gaze pierced me. "But you need to stop thinking you're the only one feeling this."
"Alaric…"
"Because I… feel it more than I should."
I stepped back again, but the door was behind me now. My breath shattered. "If you don't leave now… I might—"
"What?" His voice deepened, darker, lower. "What might you do, Anna?"
I closed my eyes. "I might not be able to control myself."
The silence that followed sucked the air out of the room. When I opened my eyes, Alaric was closer—still in the doorway, but close enough to make me lose my balance.
He raised his hand again—and like before, stopped just before touching me.
"If you don't want me to touch you," he said, voice almost breaking, "say it now."
I looked at his hand—so near my cheek. Only air between us. God, how can air feel like fire?
"Anna," he whispered. "Say it."
I swallowed once—twice—but the words wouldn't come. He closed his eyes briefly, holding back something ready to explode.
"Alright," he breathed finally. "If you can't say it… I'll leave."
He lowered his hand slowly—almost like retrieving a touch before it happened. But just as he turned, my body moved faster than my mind.
My hand caught his wrist. Alaric froze. I froze. But I didn't let go.
"Don't go," my voice slipped out softer than a breath.
Alaric opened his eyes. His gaze crumbled—not weak, not defeated—but like a man finally ceasing to lie to himself.
"Anna…" his voice almost faded.
Before I could think, I stepped forward—leaving only a breath between us.
Alaric looked at my lips once. Then he turned his face away, jaw clenched as if fighting a collapse.
"If I kissed you…" his voice broke—dark, low, filled with anger at himself—"…I wouldn't be able to stop."
I flinched quietly. "I'm not asking you to stop."
He stared at me as if I had just torn down all his defenses with a single sentence.
Then—with slow, heavy, deliberate movement—Alaric pressed his forehead against mine.
No lips. No hands. Just forehead to forehead. And that alone made my whole body tremble.
"Anna…" he drew a long breath, almost leaning back, nearly losing balance.
My fingers gripped his shirt, trembling. And finally—finally—Alaric tilted his head just enough for his lips to brush mine. Not a full kiss. Just a fleeting touch. Light. But the heat shattered every molecule in the room.
I gasped softly. My breath caught. Alaric pulled back slightly—searching for air—then came again. This time his lips met mine fully. Gentle. Slow. Yet felt like a confession he'd never allowed himself before.
When he eased away half an inch, his breath caught between words. "I shouldn't have done that…"
But he kissed me again—deeper this time, still controlled, but drunk on guilt.
When he finally pulled away, just a few centimeters between us, he whispered, "And this… is only the beginning."
He closed his eyes, taking a long breath as if forcing himself back to life. "I have to leave now," he said—to himself more than me. "Or I won't leave this bedroom."
He backed away slowly. One step. Two steps.
Until I could barely feel his warmth.
But before he truly left, his voice came without looking back. "Anna… don't lock your door tonight."
Then he was gone. And I collapsed on the floor, gasping, my lips still tingling. This was only the beginning. And I knew… there was no turning back.
~~~
I couldn't sleep that night. Not for lack of trying—I had closed my eyes countless times, forcing my body to calm, steadying my breaths—but it was all useless. My lips still felt touched, my cheeks still burned, and the memory of Alaric's forehead against mine kept spinning in my mind.
Everything blurred the line between wrong and something I'd long hidden. And my door wasn't locked. Not brave enough to lock it. Not brave enough to open it either.
The clock read 2:14 when I heard footsteps on the wooden floor. Too soft for Evelyn. Too heavy for wind. Too familiar for anyone but—
My body stiffened immediately. The steps stopped outside my door. Silence. Time seemed to freeze. Then… very slowly… the door handle moved down. I held my breath.
The door cracked open just a few inches, enough for a sliver of hallway light to slip in—and to see Alaric standing there. His shadow stretched long across the bedroom floor. Hair tousled, eyes dark, and the way he looked at me… hot. Held back. Dangerous.
I sat up straight, heart pounding wildly. "Alaric…" my voice barely a whisper.
He didn't step inside nor leave. Just stood in the doorway with ragged breath, as if having fought a long battle just to reach my door.
"You're not asleep," he said quietly.
"You're not either," I replied.
Alaric shifted his jaw—a small movement that somehow made him seem even more… out of control.
"May I come in?" he asked. But it wasn't a question. It was a warning.
I knew if I said yes, nothing would ever be the same.
I swallowed hard. "If you come in… are you sure you can stop?"
He stared long. Long.
Until finally, in a low voice almost cracking, he answered, "No."
That word shattered my heart—not from fear, but from want. And without realizing it, I nodded. Just a little. But enough.
Alaric stepped inside and closed the door behind him—slowly, silently—as if the motion were sacred.
The room suddenly felt so much smaller, hotter, denser with his presence.
He didn't touch me right away. But his body drew closer… closer… until he stood right in front of me. His breath caressed my face, making me lose my balance.
"I tried," he said softly, tilting his head so our faces aligned. "God knows I tried."
"For what?" I whispered.
"Not to want you like this."
I bit my lip, and he shut his eyes briefly, as if that small movement shattered the last of his restraint.
"Anna…" he opened his eyes again—dark, intense—"If you keep looking at me like that… I—"
I interrupted in a whisper, "Like what?"
Alaric took a deep, heavy breath, holding himself back.
"Like—" He stopped. Trying to find words that wouldn't drag us deeper. Failed. "Like I'm the only man you've thought about tonight."
I couldn't speak. Couldn't move.
Because it was true.
He moved closer still. "Right?"
I nodded softly. That was enough to make Alaric drop to his knees before me—a motion so sudden it caught my breath. He stared up at me, face just inches from my knee, fists clenched tight at his sides, as if punishing himself by denying touch.
"I just need you to say one thing," he said, low but steady.
"What?"
"That you don't want me to go."
I swallowed. Those words were heavy. Dangerous. But honest. "Don't go." This time my voice didn't tremble. No doubt. No shame.
Alaric grasped the hem of my pajama with trembling fingers. Looked up. And like a man finally surrendering to a storm he fought far too long, he pressed his forehead to my thigh—breath hot, deep, nearly losing control.
I gasped softly, my hand reflexively sliding up to touch his hair. He took a sharp breath as my skin met his.
"Anna…" he spoke my name like both a prayer and a curse. "If you touch me again… I won't be able to keep my distance."
I stared at him. Long. Then my fingers traced slow lines along his cheek. Alaric suddenly lifted his head—eyes dark, burning.
In one swift but measured motion, he stood and bent over me—trapping me between his body and the bed without touching a single inch of skin.
"Once more," he whispered in the most dangerous tone I've ever heard. "Do you want me to stay?"
I inhaled, heart pounding against my ribs. Then I answered without blinking. "I want you here."
A small, tight smile curved his lips—not soft, not sweet—but the smile of someone finally done lying to himself.
Alaric lowered his face close to mine. So close. Lips… my lips… only half a breath apart.
"Then…" he whispered, "…I'm yours tonight."