( Elara POV)
We enter his office in silence.
The door closes behind us with a soft click, and the quiet inside feels heavier than the hallway outside. My mind is still spinning not from the meeting, not from the work, but from one unsettling thought that refuses to let go.
How did Tessa know?
I hadn't said anything out loud. Not about the laptop, not about the water. And yet she'd spoken as if she already had the full story, down to details I never shared.
I stand there lost in my own thoughts, replaying the moment again and again, trying to find the point where I might have slipped.
"Elara."
His voice pulls me out of it.
"Good thing you mailed me the rough draft," he says, already moving toward his desk. "I've got it on my system."
I look up.
He's already at his desk, waking his system, completely at ease. "I have it on here," he continues. "Let's finish it, we need to share it with London on priority."
Relief loosens something tight in my chest.
"Oh," I say softly. "Okay."
"Come. Sit."
He gestures to the chair beside him.
I hesitate for half a second not because of him, but because of how close that chair is to his then I move forward and sit anyway. He pulls the document up on his screen, scrolling through the pages I worked on earlier.
"You flagged the compliance gap clearly," he says, scanning. "Especially the timeline vulnerability tied to the acquisition window."
My heart skips. Ignore it I reply
"I thought if the integration phase overlaps without a buffer, the exposure increases significantly. Especially with the cross-border regulations."
He nods. "Exactly."
He clicks into the comments.
"I saw your note before I flew back," he says. "You caught the issue early."
I glanced at him, surprised. "You saw it?"
He doesn't look away from the screen. "Yes. And it should have been addressed then."
Something warm and dangerous settles in my chest.
He leans closer, pointing at a section. "Here if we restructure this part and align it with the revised acquisition timeline, we can close the gap without triggering a compliance review."
I lean in too, our shoulders nearly touching.
"That would reduce the risk exposure," I say, thinking aloud. "But we'd need to adjust the reporting milestones."
"Which is doable," he replies. "If we move fast."
Our fingers brush briefly as we both reach for the mouse.
Neither of us reacts.
We work.
Side by side.
The world narrows to the screen, the soft click of keys, the quiet exchange of ideas. He suggests refinements. I counter with alternatives. We move through the report efficiently, building on each other's thoughts without friction.
At some point, I realize how late it's gotten.
I glance down at my phone and type quickly.
'Elara: Working late tonight. Don't wait up.
Kyla: Again? You're going to turn into a ghost.
Elara: It's temporary. Promise.
Kyla: Be safe. And eat something.'
A faint smile slips out before I can stop it.
"All good?" he asks.
"Yes," I reply, locking my phone. "Just letting my roommate know I will be late."
He nods once. "Alright. Let's finish."
Time blurs.
When I finally glance around, the office floor beyond the glass walls is dark. Empty. Only a few lights glow faintly.
"We should send it now," he says, checking the time. "London's waiting."
I scan the final page, nodding. "This looks good to go."
He sends the report.
The email disappears from the outbox.
For a moment, neither of us speaks.
The silence feels different now. Charged. Heavy with things we're both avoiding.
"It's late," he says after a moment. "I'll drop you home."
"It's okay," I reply. "I live close by. I can manage."
His gaze lingers for half a second. "Good. Then it won't take long."
I don't argue again. I just grab my bag.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Yes."
We make our way towards the elevator and step inside.
The elevator doors slide shut behind us with a muted chime.
For a few seconds, everything feels normal.
Then the car jerks.
Not violently but just enough to knock the breath from my lungs. The lights flicker once before dimming into a softer glow. The elevator hums… and stops.
The silence presses in.
My chest tightens, breath catching before I can stop it. I stare at the doors, willing them to open, but they stay stubbornly closed. The space feels smaller than it did moments ago.
"Elara."
His voice is calm. Steady.
I turn toward him.
He's closer now not crowding me, just present in a way that makes the space feel less overwhelming.
"It's alright," he says softly. "Routine maintenance. It'll come back on."
"I've got you."
Something in my chest loosens at those words.
The elevator shifts slightly again. My fingers curl into the fabric of my sleeve, grounding myself in the small sensation.
Without hesitation, he reaches for me.
His hand settles at my arm, firm and reassuring. "Just breathe," he murmurs.
"Slow... With me."
He inhales.
I follow.
Exhales.
Again.
My breathing steadies gradually, panic easing its grip. The walls don't feel as close anymore. My heartbeat slows.
I lean into him before I can think better of it.
His arm comes around me instinctively, holding me against his chest. It feels natural. Safe. His presence is solid, anchoring me when my thoughts threaten to scatter.
"I am here..I've got you." he repeats softly, almost like a promise.
The world narrows to the rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek. For the first time since the elevator stopped, I feel completely steady.
When the elevator hums back to life, neither of us moves right away.
The lights brighten.
The numbers begin to change.
I look up.
He's watching me closely, concern etched into his features, one hand still warm at my back.
"You okay?" he asks quietly.
I nod. "Yeah... I am now."
Ding!
The doors slide open, the sound sharp and sudden like a spell breaking.
We step apart at the same time.
"Come on," he says gently, motioning toward the exit. "I'll drop you home. Some rest will do you good."
I hesitate for half a second, then nod. "Okay."
We walked toward where his car was parked without speaking.
Not the uncomfortable kind of silence. Just… careful. Like we're both aware that saying the wrong thing might tip something delicate out of balance.
He unlocks the car and waits until I'm inside before moving to the driver's seat. The door closes with a soft thud, sealing us into a space that suddenly feels much smaller than the elevator did.
The engine starts.
He says after a moment, eyes on the road as he pulls out of the parking bay, "you'll have to guide me. I don't know your address."
"Right," I reply. "I'll tell you when to turn."
We drive.
Streetlights blur past the windows. The city feels quieter at this hour, calmer somehow. I focus on directions left here, straight ahead, the next signal because focusing on anything else feels dangerous.
After a few minutes, I break the silence.
"Thank you," I say softly. "For earlier… In the elevator."
He glances at me briefly. "You're welcome."
I hesitate, then continue, not entirely sure why I'm saying this now. "When I was a kid… I got locked inside a cupboard while playing hide and seek. My friends thought it was funny. They forgot about me."
While listening to me he slows at the signal, then turns right, a turn I hadn't told him to take yet.
"I don't know how long I was there," I add. "It was dark. Quiet. Since then… enclosed spaces just do something to me. Especially dark enclosed spaces."
He nods once. "That makes sense, such an experience is bound to leave some lasting trauma"
The simplicity of his response eases something in my chest.
"I'm glad I could help," he says. "And… I'm glad you're feeling better now."
"I am," I reply honestly. "Much better."
Silence settles again.
Not awkward. Just thoughtful.
Then he speaks more carefully this time. "Elara… I also wanted to talk about what happened earlier.."
My stomach tightens.
I know exactly what he means.
Before he can continue, I cut in gently, not meeting his eyes. "We were both drunk that night."
He doesn't interrupt.
"It was a mistake," I say, forcing the words out even as something in my chest protests. "Things happen when people aren't thinking clearly. I understand that."
I pause, then add, quieter, "It won't happen again.
"From my end." I added after a small pause.
The words hurt more than I expect them to.
Because even as I say them, I know they aren't the whole truth.
If given the chance, I would probably give in again and that realization unsettles me more than the kiss ever did.
I glance at him just in time to see something flicker across his face, something unguarded. Then it's gone, replaced by the calm, composed expression he wears so easily.
"I understand, " he says quietly.
The rest of the drive passes in silence.
I guide him toward my building. "You can stop here," I say as we reach the entrance. "This is it."
He doesn't stop.
Instead, he turns into the basement parking lot.
"Which floor?" he asks.
"Twenty-eighth."
His brow lifts slightly. "Thats High."
I smile faintly. "I'm staying with a friend. My building had some issues, so she insisted I move in until I figured things out."
"That was kind of her."
"It was," I agree.
He parks, cuts the engine, and gets out before I can protest. I follow him toward the elevator.
"You really don't have to come all the way up," I say. "I'm okay now."
He chuckles softly. "I know. But it's the gentlemanly thing to do."
Then, more lightly, "And I wouldn't want you alone in an elevator again. At least not tonight."
The smile that follows is unguarded, not the polished, controlled version I'm used to seeing, but something easier. It's almost boyish. It catches me off guard.
Something warm settles low in my chest, unexpected and faintly unsettling, and I look away before he can notice.
We enter the elevator together again for the second time tonight and the doors close behind us.
He presses the button for twenty-eighth floor.
The elevator rises.
When the doors open, he steps out not toward my apartment, but toward the door directly across from it.
He stops, turns back to me, and smiles.
"Good night," he says. "Neighbor."
I stare at him, shock stealing my voice for a second.
"You live—" I gesture vaguely. "Next door?"
He nods, clearly amused by my reaction. "Looks like it."
My heart does something ridiculous in my chest.
"Oh," I managed. "Well. That's… unexpected."
He chuckles. "See you tomorrow."
As he disappears into his apartment, I stand there for a moment longer than necessary, staring at my own door.
Of all the places in the city.
I unlock it slowly, one thought echoing in my mind as I step inside.
Distance was the only thing keeping this safe. And now, even that is gone.