Chapter 3
1350 Words
Roman’s house was exactly what I expected it to be.
And somehow… not at all.
Modern. Clean. All sharp edges and dark colors. Floor-to-ceiling windows looking out into the quiet of the night. Everything in its place like it had been designed to look perfect—and untouched at the same time.
It didn’t feel cold, though.
Not really.
Maybe because he was in it.
“Sit,” he said quietly, nodding toward the couch as he walked past me toward the kitchen.
I did.
My heels slipped off the second I sat down, my feet finally relaxing against the hardwood floor. I hadn’t realized how tense my body had been until that moment.
Roman came back a minute later with a glass of water.
He didn’t hand it to me right away.
Just stood there for a second, watching me like he was trying to figure something out.
Or maybe trying to make sure I was okay.
“Here,” he said finally.
Our fingers brushed when I took it.
Barely anything.
But it still sent a small, unexpected spark up my arm.
I looked down quickly, taking a sip just to give myself something to do.
“Thank you.”
“Yeah.”
Silence again.
But this time… it didn’t feel heavy.
Just… aware.
Like everything in the room knew something had shifted—even if neither of us had said it out loud yet.
“You can take my room,” he said after a minute.
I blinked up at him. “What? No—”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Roman,” I sighed, shaking my head. “I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.”
“You’re not kicking me out,” he said simply. “I’m offering.”
“That’s not happening.”
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
And there it was—that side of him I remembered from years ago. The one that always pushed a little just to see where your line was.
“You planning on arguing with me all night?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
A corner of his mouth lifted.
Not a full smile.
But enough.
“Good,” he muttered. “You’re feeling better already.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the small hint of a smile tugging at my lips.
And for the first time since earlier…
I didn’t feel completely broken.
“I’ll take the couch,” I said firmly, setting the glass down.
Roman shook his head instantly. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
He stepped closer then.
Not aggressively.
Not even consciously, I don’t think.
But suddenly he was right there—close enough that I had to tilt my head slightly to keep eye contact.
“Ella,” he said quietly.
My breath caught.
Just from the way he said my name.
Lower.
Softer.
Different.
“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” he continued. “End of discussion.”
“And you are?” I challenged.
“If I have to.”
My heart stuttered.
Because it didn’t feel like he was talking about just the couch anymore.
I swallowed, trying to steady myself.
“Fine,” I said after a second. “Then we’ll both sleep in your bed.”
The words slipped out before I could overthink them.
Before I could stop them.
And the second they did—
The entire room froze.
Roman went very still.
Like completely still.
His eyes held mine, searching—like he was trying to decide if I meant it.
Or if I understood what I’d just said.
And honestly?
I wasn’t completely sure I did either.
“Ella,” he said slowly.
A warning.
A question.
Maybe both.
“It’s just sleep,” I added quickly, even though my voice felt thinner than I wanted it to. “I don’t… I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
That part was true.
Every bit of it.
His jaw tightened slightly, like that answer didn’t make this any easier.
But after a long second—
“Okay,” he said.
One word.
Careful.
Controlled.
But not distant.
His room felt different from the rest of the house.
Less staged.
More real.
A little messier—just enough to prove someone actually lived there.
I stood awkwardly near the edge of the bed while he grabbed a t-shirt from his dresser and tossed it in my direction.
“For you,” he said.
I caught it automatically.
My fingers tightened around the soft fabric.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll… be in the bathroom,” he added, already turning away.
Giving me space.
Like he knew exactly how thin the line was right now—and how easily it could be crossed.
When I changed, my hands weren’t as steady as I wanted them to be.
Not from fear.
Not from nerves exactly.
But from something heavier.
Something that felt a little too much like anticipation.
I pushed the thought away quickly.
This wasn’t that.
This was just…
Comfort.
Safety.
That’s all.
Roman was already in bed by the time I came out.
On his side.
One arm behind his head.
The other resting loosely across his chest.
He looked… too comfortable there.
Too natural in a space that suddenly felt unfamiliar to me.
“Light on or off?” he asked.
“Off.”
The room went dark instantly.
And then—
I hesitated.
Still standing there.
“Ella.”
My name again.
Softer this time.
“Get in the bed.”
I exhaled slowly and did.
Keeping my distance.
Staying on my side.
Facing away from him.
Like that would somehow make everything less intense.
It didn’t.
Not even a little.
Because even without touching him—
I could feel him there.
The heat.
The presence.
The awareness.
Every small movement.
Every shift of breath.
Every second stretched a little longer than it should have.
“Thank you,” I whispered into the dark after a while.
“For… everything.”
There was a pause.
Then—
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do.”
“No,” he said quietly. “You don’t.”
Something about that made my chest tighten.
Like maybe he didn’t see this as a favor.
Like maybe—
Before I could finish that thought—
A sudden noise outside made me jump slightly.
My body reacting before my brain could catch up.
And without thinking—
I moved.
Turning.
Closing the space between us—
My hand landing lightly against his chest.
We both froze.
Immediately.
My breath caught.
His did too.
Because now—
There was no space.
No distance.
Just heat.
Contact.
Awareness in its rawest form.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered quickly, trying to pull back—
But his hand caught my wrist.
Not rough.
Not tight.
Just enough to stop me.
And everything went still again.
“Don’t,” he said.
Low.
Barely above a whisper.
“Don’t what?” My voice came out softer than I meant it to.
“Don’t move away like that.”
My heart started pounding.
Fast.
Hard.
“Roman…”
He exhaled slowly.
Like he was trying to get control back.
Trying to put distance between what he wanted and what he should do.
But he didn’t let go.
Not yet.
His thumb brushed very slightly against my wrist.
And that tiny movement sent something dangerous through me.
“You’re not alone,” he said quietly.
Simple words.
But they hit deeper than anything else tonight.
I didn’t pull away after that.
Didn’t move back to my side of the bed.
Instead… I stayed.
My hand still resting against him.
Our bodies just barely touching.
Close enough to feel everything.
Far enough to pretend it didn’t mean anything.
But we both knew that wasn’t true.
I fell asleep like that.
Not thinking about him.
Not thinking about my ex.
Not thinking about anything.
Just feeling…
Safe.
But sometime in the middle of the night—
That changed.
- Writer
