Connected Blood

13 - Unraveling the Ice

After the screening, I was determined to leave the room and get some rest. My mind was swirling with emotions, but before I could walk out, I felt a hand grip my arm. It was Win.

I glanced around to see the others slowly filing out of the room, not paying us any mind. We were alone, just the two of us.

“I saw your interview earlier,” Win began, his voice low. He had that familiar intense look in his eyes, but there was something different about it today—an unreadable expression, a mix of confusion and concern.

I froze, unsure of what to expect. He still had my hand in his, gently holding on as if unsure whether to let go or pull me closer.

"You still haven’t told the public about our relationship," he continued, his gaze lingering on me with a softness I hadn’t seen in a while. But I couldn’t allow myself to get swept away in that softness. Not after everything that had happened.

I pulled my hand from his grasp, heart beating faster than I expected. "It’ll ruin the series. I don’t want to make things messy right now," I said quickly, turning to walk away.

I didn’t want to drag our personal lives into the public, especially not when we were just getting started with the shoot. The last thing I needed was for rumors to spread and take the focus away from our work. The series was important, and the public didn’t need to know the truth—not yet.

“But—” Win started, but stopped mid-sentence. I could see the words were stuck in his throat, as if he didn’t know what to say next.

I didn’t look back. "Let me handle this, Win. You do what you want, and I’ll do what I want." My voice was firm, even though my heart was aching.

He didn’t stop me as I walked away, and for a moment, it felt like the distance between us was unbridgeable. I wasn’t sure if he was going to chase after me or let me go. I didn’t want to turn around to find out.

I quickly headed back to the van, wanting to get away, to be alone. Max was nowhere to be seen, but Draco was there, sitting quietly in the driver’s seat. I didn’t know why I was still so affected by Win, but my chest felt tight, as if I were suffocating under the weight of everything.

I closed my eyes, trying to breathe deeply. Don’t cry, just breathe, I told myself, but it didn’t help.

“Don’t suppress your feelings,” a calm voice broke through my thoughts. I opened my eyes to find Draco looking at me through the rearview mirror. His tone was soft, but I could tell he wasn’t just stating a fact—there was something about his words that struck a chord.

I couldn’t hide the annoyance that bubbled inside me. “Don’t pretend like you care,” I muttered, turning away from him.

“I don’t pretend,” he replied with his usual indifference. His voice was level, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if he was being sincere or just mocking me. “What’s the use of pretending? What would I gain from it?”

I blinked at him, the words sinking in. Was he being honest? Was there something beneath his cold exterior?

“You’re right,” I said quietly, feeling a strange sense of relief. I didn’t know why his words calmed me, but they did. Maybe because for the first time in a long while, someone was being real with me.

Draco continued, his gaze back on the road. “It’s okay to feel vulnerable. You’re human after all.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, but there was a sense of comfort in his words. Maybe he wasn’t as cold and detached as I thought. Maybe there was more to him than just the stoic, unbothered exterior.

Before I could say anything else, Max hopped into the van, her cheerful voice cutting through the moment. “Let’s go home, yay!” she said, making a beeline for the backseat. Draco started the car, and we were on our way back to the house.

---

Later that night, I found myself alone in the living room, curled up on the couch, trying to distract myself with an episode of a random show. It was already 11 pm, and despite the exhaustion weighing on me, I couldn’t sleep. My mind was still buzzing from the events of the day, especially my interaction with Win.

I munched absentmindedly on cereal, my feet propped up on the couch, arms resting on the armrest as I tried to relax.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Draco emerge from his room. He paused when he noticed me, his expression as unreadable as ever.

I glanced up at him but didn’t speak. He studied me for a moment before walking toward the kitchen.

“Aren’t you tired?” he asked, his voice low.

“I am, but I can’t sleep,” I replied, not expecting this to turn into a conversation. It had been a while since we’d talked like this, just the two of us in the house. Normally, I’d retreat to my room, and he’d disappear into his, only showing up when I needed something. Tonight felt different, though.

He didn’t say anything more but went to the kitchen, opening a bottle of red wine. I raised an eyebrow, watching as he poured himself a glass.

I couldn’t help but feel a little curious. "Who told you to open my wine?" I asked, walking toward him.

He didn’t even look at me as he poured, but his lips quirked up slightly. "You don’t drink wine," he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

My eyebrows shot up. "How do you know that?"

"I just observed," he answered simply, as if that explained everything.

I couldn’t help but feel a little taken aback. He had observed me, paid attention to things about me that no one else had bothered to notice.

"Seems like you know a lot about me," I said sarcastically, crossing my arms.

He gave me a look, not offended, but just acknowledging my words. “It’s just observation.”

"That can’t be observed," I replied, frowning. “You’d have to ask or something.”

He set his glass down on the counter and turned to face me. For the first time, I felt like I was being seen. His eyes locked onto mine, intense and unwavering.

"Would you take a glass of wine?" he asked, voice serious.

I shook my head, suddenly uncomfortable with the way his gaze was making me feel. "No, thanks."

He smiled slightly, like he had known I wouldn’t accept. “See?”

I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but I wasn’t going to push him. Instead, I sat down on a barstool, watching him silently.

"Why do you act like that?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me. "Cold, serious, like you have no emotions, like you’re some robot."

Draco stopped drinking and placed his glass down. For a long moment, he simply stared at me, and I stared back. Neither of us spoke.

"Too personal," he finally said, his voice low and unfeeling.

“Maybe,” I said, my voice trailing off. “But you seem nice, just... intimidating. It’s hard to talk to you.”

He didn’t say anything, just picked up his glass and walked away. But as he passed, he looked at me one last time. “Don’t be too curious about me. Curiosity kills the cat.”

His words hung in the air, lingering, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had uncovered something deeper than I was supposed to. I stayed in the kitchen for a few more seconds, letting the silence settle around me.

What was Draco hiding beneath his attitude?