Echoes In The Dark
1284 Words
Mila
Mila told herself she was over it.
Over Adrian Black and his intense eyes. Over his quiet apologies and dangerous presence. Over the strange pull she felt whenever he entered a room.
She told herself she had better things to think about—rent, deadlines, whether the cracked tile in her bathroom would finally give up and flood the apartment.
She told herself this while stirring pasta on her stove, while folding laundry that had been sitting in the dryer too long, while brushing her teeth and pretending not to stare at her own reflection.
She told herself a lot of things.
They didn’t stop her from checking the door twice before bed.
They didn’t stop her from replaying his voice in her head.
They didn’t stop her from wondering if he was thinking about her too.
She hated that.
Mila sat cross-legged on her couch with her laptop balanced on her knees, trying to finish a design for a local bakery. The logo blurred in front of her eyes. She sighed and closed the computer.
She stood and walked to the window.
The city stretched out beneath her, alive even this late. Streetlights painted the sidewalks in soft gold. Somewhere down below, a couple argued quietly. A car alarm chirped and died.
Everything felt ordinary.
Too ordinary.
She pressed her forehead against the cool glass.
Why did one man have to complicate everything?
She grabbed her jacket and keys.
If she stayed inside, she’d keep thinking.
Walking usually helped.
⸻
The night air was crisp, carrying the smell of rain and exhaust. Mila walked without direction, letting her feet choose familiar paths.
She passed closed shops and glowing apartment windows, stray cats darting between dumpsters, music drifting faintly from somewhere above.
She didn’t realize where she was until she stopped.
Blackspire Tower loomed ahead, its glass façade reflecting the city like a dark mirror.
She swore softly.
She hadn’t meant to come here.
She turned to leave—
—and nearly collided with him.
Adrian caught her elbow automatically, steadying her.
Their eyes met.
Time stalled.
“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly.
Mila pulled her arm back.
“I could ask you the same.”
His lips curved slightly.
“This is my building.”
She gestured around.
“Right. King’s castle.”
His gaze lingered on her face.
“You okay?”
She hesitated.
“I went for a walk.”
“At midnight.”
She shrugged. “Sleep is optional.”
He studied her in silence.
She hated how much she liked the way he looked at her—like he was trying to read something between her breaths.
“You shouldn’t be alone this late,” he said.
She rolled her eyes.
“You’re doing it again.”
He sighed softly.
“Habit.”
She crossed her arms.
“So what now? You escort me home?”
He hesitated.
“If you’ll allow it.”
She blinked.
The phrasing caught her off guard.
She nodded once.
“Fine. But no entourage.”
He glanced over his shoulder.
His men stayed inside.
They walked side by side in silence.
Their footsteps echoed softly on the pavement.
“You keep appearing in my life,” Mila said after a moment.
Adrian glanced at her.
“Funny. I was thinking the same.”
She huffed.
“Figures.”
They walked another block.
“You don’t come here often,” Adrian said.
“No.”
“Then why tonight?”
She considered lying.
She didn’t.
“I couldn’t stop thinking.”
He slowed.
“About?”
She kept her eyes forward.
“You.”
His breath caught so subtly she almost missed it.
They stopped walking.
Streetlight shadows stretched long around them.
“You shouldn’t,” Adrian said quietly.
“Tell my brain that.”
He studied her face.
“This doesn’t end well.”
She met his gaze.
“Neither does being alone forever.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Something shifted in his expression.
He looked away.
They resumed walking.
⸻
Adrian
Adrian had told himself he wouldn’t go looking for her.
He’d spent the evening buried in reports, reviewing contracts and security routes, forcing his focus back onto the things that mattered.
But Mila’s face kept intruding.
Her stubborn mouth.
Her steady gaze.
Her quiet refusal to be owned.
So when he’d stepped outside for air and found her standing near his building like she’d been pulled there by gravity, he hadn’t been surprised.
Fate had a sense of humor.
Walking beside her now, Adrian became painfully aware of how small she felt next to him—and how strong she actually was.
She didn’t shrink.
She didn’t hesitate.
She walked like the street belonged to her.
“You don’t belong in my world,” he said softly.
Mila glanced at him.
“Stop saying that.”
“It’s true.”
“So?”
“So people close to me get hurt.”
She stopped again.
“You don’t get to decide that for me.”
He faced her.
“I’m trying to protect you.”
Her eyes flashed.
“I didn’t ask for protection. I asked for honesty.”
He stiffened.
“You don’t want honesty.”
“Try me.”
Adrian exhaled slowly.
“Fine.”
He stepped closer.
“When people know I care about something, they use it against me. They always have.”
Her expression softened.
“That sounds exhausting.”
He laughed quietly.
“It is.”
They stood inches apart.
The tension between them was no longer subtle.
Adrian became acutely aware of her breathing, the faint warmth of her body, the way her fingers curled slightly as if she were resisting the urge to reach out.
He felt the same pull.
He hated it.
He wanted it.
“You should go home,” he said hoarsely.
Mila nodded.
“Walk me.”
He did.
At her building, they stopped again.
She hesitated at the door.
“This doesn’t change anything,” she said.
He knew what she meant.
They were still standing on opposite sides of something dangerous.
“I know.”
She looked up at him.
“Goodnight, Adrian.”
He hadn’t told her his name that night.
But she knew.
He watched her disappear inside.
⸻
Mila (Later)
Inside her apartment, Mila leaned against the door just like she had the other night.
Her heart raced.
She pressed a hand to her chest.
She hadn’t touched him.
He hadn’t touched her.
Yet everything felt charged.
She crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling.
She replayed the way his voice had softened when he talked about being used.
The way he’d walked her home without trying to control her.
The way he’d looked at her like she mattered.
She turned onto her side.
This was dangerous.
She closed her eyes.
She didn’t sleep easily.
⸻
Adrian (Later)
Adrian stood on his balcony again, city lights flickering below.
He hadn’t felt this restless in years.
He thought about Mila walking beside him.
He thought about the way she’d said his name.
He thought about how she made him feel like something more than a weapon.
Marco appeared quietly.
“You good, boss?”
Adrian didn’t look away from the city.
“She makes me forget myself.”
Marco was silent.
“That’s not safe,” Marco said finally.
“No,” Adrian agreed.
“But it’s real.”
He closed his eyes.
Both of them would pretend tomorrow.
Pretend they didn’t care.
Pretend they weren’t already tangled in something neither of them had planned.
But the echoes were already there.
In the dark.
- Writer
