FATED FEEL SAFE
1007 Words
CHAPTER 11
"Why do I feel safe with you?"
(Hazel’s POV)
Later that night---
The rain started gently—like the world was whispering. A few drops, a breeze. Nothing to be afraid of.
But then, it turned.
Angry. Wild.
It lashed against the tall glass windows of Alexander’s penthouse in waves, sounding like a thousand fists pounding to be let inside.
I stood barefoot in the living room, arms wrapped tightly around myself, staring out over the storm-drenched skyline. The city lights blurred behind the raindrops like a painting smudged by tears.
Alexander and Raymond went out and Alexander still ain't home yet.
The clock read 10:14 p.m.
I hadn’t realized I’d been standing there for over an hour.
The thunder cracked, loud enough to rattle the windows. I flinched.
I hated that.
I hated how storms always made me feel like a little girl again—powerless, forgotten, abandoned.
No one was coming.
Not then. Not now.
Except tonight… someone had come.
And the way Alexander had looked at me in that meeting—when Damien Carter leaned too close, when his voice made my skin crawl—it wasn’t just protective.
It was furious.
It was the kind of fury that comes from caring, whether he wanted to or not.
And that scared me more than the storm.
Because when a man like Alexander Wilson starts to care, the world tilts.
And people like me… fall.
---
Click.
The penthouse door opened. I jumped.
Alexander stepped in, soaked to the bone.
Rain streaked his face. His black coat clung to his tall frame, dripping water onto the marble floor. His white shirt—partially unbuttoned—was nearly translucent, molded to the hard lines of his chest.
He looked…
Like he had just walked out of a storm and straight into my weakness.
“You’re still awake?” he asked, his voice low. Rough from the cold or the rain—or maybe both.
I nodded. “Couldn’t sleep.”
His eyes flicked to the windows. “The storm’s loud.”
There was a moment of stillness—then a sharp c***k of thunder split the air.
The lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
And then—black.
The entire penthouse was swallowed by darkness.
My breath caught.
“Uhm—”
“Relax.” His voice was closer now, deep and calm. “The generator will kick in.”
Seconds later, a soft hum vibrated through the walls. Dim, golden emergency lights glowed to life around us.
Not enough to see clearly.
Just enough to see him.
Alexander stood a few feet away, dripping wet, chest rising and falling slowly.
The shadows carved his jaw like marble. His dark eyes found mine—and held.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard.
I hesitated, hugging my arms. “Storms… make me nervous.”
He tilted his head slightly. “It’s not stupid.”
I blinked. “I didn’t say it was—”
“You were about to,” he interrupted, his tone quiet but certain. “But fear isn’t weakness, Hazel.”
Something about the way he said my name… gentle and raw… undid me.
He stepped a little closer.
And I didn’t move.
The rain pounded on the windows like it wanted in.
But in here—it was just us.
Two people who shouldn’t be this close.
Two people who didn’t know how to be anything else.
“You should get some rest,” he said, voice strained now, as if pulling himself back.
“I will,” I whispered, not trusting myself to say more.
I turned toward the hallway.
But halfway down, I stopped.
I didn’t look back.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “For earlier. With Carter. For… protecting me.”
Silence.
Then, in the stillness behind me, I felt it.
Something shifting.
Breaking.
Sinking.
I didn’t need a reply.
Because silence, when it came from him, often said more than words.
---
Alexander’s POV
She thanked me.
She could’ve ignored it. Could’ve let the moment die.
But she thanked me.
And I—
I couldn’t move.
I stood there, drenched and furious at myself.
Because all I wanted to do was reach out, pull her back, and tell her she didn’t have to be afraid.
Not of the storm.
Not of me.
Not of anything—not while I was around.
But I didn’t.
Because if I crossed that line…
I wouldn’t be able to walk back.
And Hazel Hayden was too soft. Too warm. Too real for someone like me to hold onto without breaking her.
So I stood still.
And watched her walk away.
---
Hazel’s POV — Later That Night
The storm hadn’t let up.
The thunder rolled like war drums in the distance.
But inside the penthouse… something had changed.
The air didn’t feel so cold. The silence wasn’t so sharp.
Because he was here.
In the next room.
Just a few steps away.
And somehow… that made me feel safe.
Too safe.
My heart whispered things I didn’t want to hear.
I wrapped myself in the sheets, curled up tight, and opened my journal again.
> Entry 11: I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m slipping. Into this world. Into him. I’m trying to stay professional—but every time he looks at me, I forget why I came here in the first place.
Tonight, I realized something terrifying:
I feel safest when I’m near him.
But safety... isn’t the same as love.
Is it?
I closed the journal, heart pounding.
And somewhere deep inside me… I knew this wasn’t just a job anymore.
I was falling.
Fast.
And I didn’t know if Alexander Wilson would catch me.
Or let me crash.
---
To Be Continued…
🔥 Next Chapter: What happens when desire and denial finally collide?
💬 Comment “BRING ON CHAPTER 12” if you're ready for the storm inside to hit harder than the one outside.
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