Before You Knew Me

Chapter 12

ELARA POV

After standing behind the door for a while, I heard voices.

One was Daniel's, low and sharp. The other was a man's voice I recognized but couldn't place at first through the thick wood. It was a blur of words — "ledger," "compromised," "Silas." Important person. Important call.

I wasn't standing there because I wanted to eavesdrop. I wasn't trying to listen.

I stood there because I realized I needed his help again.

My leg was throbbing. The wound on my calf felt tight and hot. I had tried to do it myself in the bathroom. I'd taken the baggy pants he'd given me, tucked the oversized shirt into them, and rolled one pant leg up just above the bandage so I could check it. Now I was stuck in the doorway, leaning against the frame, feeling stupid.

As soon as the call cut — I heard the low beep after about fifteen minutes — I called him.

"Daniel?" I said softly, hoping he would hear me.

Nothing.

I waited a few seconds, my leg starting to shake.

"Daniel?" a little louder this time.

Within seconds, the door flew open.

He rushed out, panicked, eyes scanning fast like he expected an intruder. Then he saw me — standing in the doorway of the bathroom, leg wrapped, swimming in baggy pants and an oversized shirt that I'd tucked into the waistband, one pant leg hiked up awkwardly just above the wound.

His shoulders dropped, but his eyes stayed locked on me.

"I need your help," I sighed, feeling my cheeks heat up.

He was already moving toward me. "What happened? Are you okay? Is it bleeding again?"

"Please," I asked, swallowing my pride, "can you help me to the couch? I just want to sit somewhere that isn't a bed for a bit. Maybe watch TV."

He walked over and before I could even shift my weight, he slid one arm under my knees and the other around my back and lifted me bridal style.

My arms went around his neck out of pure instinct. I was so surprised by it that a little giggle escaped me before I could stop it. I didn't mean to.

Daniel smiled down at me. That rare, real smile that makes his eyes crinkle.

"You need to stop doing that," I said quickly. "Your hip —" I gestured vaguely, "your side. The wound under your ribs. Daniel, put me down, you're going to tear your stitches."

"I'll be fine," he said, shrugging it off like it was nothing, even though I felt his body tense with the weight. "You're light."

"I'm not light."

"You are to me."

He carried me to the couch and set me down like I was something fragile. He propped me up against the armrest with the big cushions, then dragged the ottoman over and lifted my feet onto it gently, making sure my injured leg was elevated.

Before I could even say thank you, he was gone. I heard cupboards opening, the fridge opening, a glass clinking on the counter, the microwave beeping.

A few minutes later he returned carrying a tray balanced carefully in both hands — two glasses, a big bowl of popcorn, some chocolate, chips, and two cold cans of soda.

"What is this?" I asked, surprised and confused.

"Since we are trapped here," he started, setting the tray down on the coffee table in front of us, "I figured we could chill. Have some snacks, watch a movie or just... chat."

He looked at me, and his expression softened.

"Anything you want," he said, like he was reading my mind. "Just so you know you can trust me."

My throat tightened. I knew what he meant. It wasn't just about snacks.

"Plus," he added with a grin, trying to lighten it, "you're stuck on this couch now."

"Not by choice," I scoffed, but I was smiling.

"So why not take advantage of it?" he said, putting the tray down and sitting at least one whole cushion away from me on the three-seater couch. Like he was giving me space on purpose.

He turned on the TV and started flicking through channels until he found something — some old action movie with terrible dubbing.

No idea what we were actually watching though, because as soon as it turned on he grabbed a glass, poured our drinks, placed them in the cup holders next to each of us. He grabbed the popcorn, all while running his mouth about the movie he actually wanted to watch.

"It's got this one scene - terrible CGI, but the plot twist -"

We sat in silence after that, watching this incredibly boring movie, sharing the popcorn.

I didn't notice at first, but Daniel was moving. Inch by inch. Closer to me without me even noticing, and then closer, and then even closer, until he was right next to me, shoulder to shoulder. His warmth was seeping into my side.

I didn't realize until I felt his hand brush mine inside the popcorn bowl.

I gasped, my head snapping toward him.

"You hogged the popcorn," he said quickly, like that was a perfect excuse for why he was so close to me, his face completely serious.

"Oh, sorry," I smiled, my hand full of popcorn and my mouth full. He laughed at me, a real laugh, as I sheepishly handed him the bowl.

We went back to watching this movie.

"What are we actually watching?" I asked with a laugh, because I had no clue what the plot was.

"I have absolutely no idea," he laughed. "This is literally the only thing I could find that wasn't the news. I swear they only have five channels down here."

I shrugged and looked around for the remote. It was right next to him, tucked against his thigh.

"Can I get the remote?"

He picked it up and handed it to me. Our fingers brushed against each other's.

We both pretended it didn't happen. We both stared at the TV very hard. But deep down, I knew it felt nice. Warm and tingly, all the way up my arm.

I flicked through the channels until I found a comedy — something light, stupid, perfect.

We watched. I didn't realize how tired I was. The pain meds, the emotional crash, his warmth next to me. Not even halfway through the movie, my head got heavy, my eyelids started to droop.

And then I was out for the count, my head sinking onto his shoulder.

DANIEL POV

She was so cute sitting there. It's distracting how cute she is.

Baggy pants that were actually mine, an oversized shirt she tried to make look intentional by tucking it in. One pant leg rolled up, exposing the white bandage on her calf. Hair still messy from sleep. No makeup. No armor.

And I couldn't help but feel drawn to her, as usual. Like gravity. I have to actively remind myself not to stare.

When she called me from the bathroom, my heart stopped. Silas had just hung up. The call was heavy — buyers asking questions, saying the ledger was still out there, telling me to keep her underground. No mention of Marcus. As far as I know, Marcus is dead and buried in that abandoned office and it's my fault. Silas didn't tell me otherwise.

I thought someone had gotten in. I thought she was hurt worse. I threw open the door ready to kill someone.

Then I saw her just standing there, looking small and annoyed with herself for needing help. _I need your help._ Those four words from her will undo me every single time.

Lifting her was a stupid idea. My side screamed the second I took her weight. The wound is still fresh, still angry. But I shrugged it off. I would carry her through fire if she asked me to. A few stitches isn't going to stop me.

I set her on the couch and I could see her watching me, worrying about me. That little crease between her eyebrows. She noticed. She always notices.

I went to the kitchen to get the snacks because I needed thirty seconds to get myself together. Cupboards, fridge, glass, microwave — make it normal. Make it not feel like I'm trying too hard to make her comfortable, even though I am. I am trying so hard.

When I came back with the tray, she looked at me like I was crazy. _What's this?_

Since we are trapped here, I figured we could chill. I wanted to say so much more. I wanted to say _I'm sorry I scared you. I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry you heard that call with Silas and now you have more questions. But please, just for tonight, let me make you feel safe._

So I said, "anything you want, just so you know you can trust me."

And then, because the moment got too heavy, I added, "plus you're stuck on this couch."

She scoffed. Good. That little scoff means she's still here with me.

I sat a full cushion away on purpose. Give her space. Let her choose to close it. The movie I put on was terrible. I have no idea what it was about because all I could think about was how to sit next to her without making it obvious.

So I did what any highly-trained covert operative would do. I inched closer under the guise of needing more popcorn.

One inch. Wait. Another inch. Does she notice? No. Another inch. Shoulder to shoulder now. I can feel the heat of her arm through her shirt. I can smell her shampoo — my shampoo, actually, because she has nothing else.

Then our hands touched in the popcorn bowl. She gasped and looked up at me, eyes wide.

"You hogged the popcorn," I said. Smooth, Daniel. Real smooth.

She smiled, mouth full, hand full, popcorn everywhere. Adorable. Absolutely, completely adorable.

"What are we actually watching?" she asked, laughing.

"I have absolutely no idea," I admitted. "This is the only thing I could find."

She reached for the remote and our fingers brushed again. This time we both felt it. I saw her breath catch. She pretended it didn't happen. I pretended it didn't happen. But my hand was tingling for a full minute after.

She found a comedy. Better. She settled back, and I could feel her getting heavy against me. Her blinks got slower. Longer.

I didn't notice she'd fallen asleep until I felt her head drop onto my shoulder, soft and trusting. All the tension left her body.

I looked down at her face. In sleep, she doesn't frown. She looks younger. Peaceful. The girl Gabriel showed me a photo of six years ago, but grown into this woman who reorganizes my kitchen and throws cushions at my head.

I smiled before I could stop myself. I gently took the remote from her loose hand so it wouldn't fall, and leaned my head against hers for just a second before catching myself. Not yet. I haven't earned that yet. I haven't even kissed her yet, and I'm not going to until she trusts me enough to want it.

I pulled the blanket over both of us, careful not to jostle her. I adjusted the ottoman so her leg was more comfortable, her calf elevated properly. I made sure the bandage wasn't too tight.

So many things going through my head. The buyers Silas warned me about. The ledger still hidden somewhere. Elara's father and the promise I made. The fact that I'm bleeding through my own bandage from carrying her. And the guilt that sits in my chest every time I breathe because Marcus is gone and I put him there.

And underneath all of it, one stupid, simple feeling I can't turn off anymore, no matter how hard I try: I hope she starts to trust me. Soon. Really trust me.

Her breathing was soft and even against my shoulder. Her hand was still resting near mine on the couch cushion, not touching, but close.

Eventually, I couldn't keep my eyes open either. The pain meds, the blood loss, the sleepless night. I let my head tip back against the couch, not on hers — not yet — and let myself drift, with her safe on my shoulder and the TV flickering silently in our little trapped world.