Chapter 7
1006 Words
STAY CLOSE
Lora’s POV
I should have felt relieved when the doctors finally left. But instead, the room felt smaller. Like something had stayed behind with me.
I didn’t need to look to know what it was. Or who.
The silence stretched, thick and unmoving, pressing against my skin until it became impossible to ignore.
Slowly, I opened my eyes.
Drake was still there.
He hadn’t moved far from the bed, his figure was tall and steady against the dim light, his presence filling the space in a way that made it hard to breathe properly. His sleeves were still rolled, his posture controlled, but his eyes… his eyes hadn’t left me.
Not once.
“You should go,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.
It felt strange, telling the man who had just carried me here, who had refused to let anyone delay my treatment, that he should leave. But the way he watched me… it made something uneasy coil in my chest.
“I’m fine.”
“No.”
The word came immediately. It was calm, flat but final.
My fingers tightened slightly against the sheets.
“You’ve done enough,” I added, forcing myself to sit up a little straighter despite the dull pull at my side. “I can handle the rest.”
His gaze didn’t shift.
“I know.”
The answer was simple, but it unsettled me more than if he had argued.
Because it meant he wasn’t staying out of obligation. He was choosing to.
The air between us grew heavier.
I looked away first, my eyes settling on the edge of the blanket as I tried to steady my breathing. The quiet wasn’t peaceful. It felt… deliberate. Like he was waiting without saying so.
The mattress dipped slightly.
My breath caught as I watched him move closer.
He didn’t move close enough to touch me, but close enough that I could feel it. The warmth. The quiet weight of him sitting beside the bed instead of standing apart like before.
“Drink.”
I blinked, my attention snapping back as he held a glass of water out to me.
I hadn’t even seen him pick it up.
For a second, I hesitated, then reached for it. My fingers brushed his, just barely, but the contact lingered longer than it should have. I pulled back almost immediately, bringing the glass to my lips just to give myself something else to focus on.
The water was cool, grounding, but it didn’t calm the awareness curling under my skin.
Because he didn’t look away, not even once.
I set the glass down carefully.
“You should rest,” he said.
Something about the way he said it made it sound less like a suggestion and more like a decision he had already made for me.
“I will,” I replied, turning slightly onto my side.
The movement tugged at the bandage on my waist, but I ignored it. It was easier to deal with that than with the tension building in the room.
I closed my eyes. Or maybe I tried to, but my body refused to settle.
A sharp twist hit my stomach without warning.
I stiffened, my breath catching before I could stop it.
It wasn’t the cut, this was different. It felt different…deeper.
I pressed my lips together, willing it to pass, forcing my body to stay still.
Don’t react.
Don’t move.
Don’t give anything away.
But the discomfort lingered, tightening just enough to make my fingers curl slightly against the sheets.
And that was enough.
The silence changed.
I felt it immediately. His attention sharpened.
I kept my eyes closed, pretending nothing had happened, but it was useless. The air itself felt different now, heavier, focused.
Slowly, without thinking, my hand lifted. It hovered for a second before settling lightly against my stomach.
The moment it did, I froze.
What am I doing?
I forced my hand to move away, letting it fall back to the bed as if it had meant nothing.
But he had seen it. I knew he had, I could feel it.
“Lora.”
My name was quieter this time.
I opened my eyes.
He was already looking at me, very closely and not just casually.
“That didn’t look like pain from a surface wound.”
My heartbeat stumbled.
“It’s nothing,” I said quickly.
His gaze didn’t waver.
“You’ve said that before.”
“It’s still true.”
The lie came easier than it should have, but it didn’t feel convincing even to me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The silence stretched, thick and unyielding, but this time it felt different. Like he was taking in every detail, every reaction, every small movement I hadn’t been careful enough to hide.
And for the first time since I had met him…I felt exposed. Not because he knew anything but because he was starting to notice.
I turned my face away, closing my eyes again as if exhaustion had finally taken over.
If I stayed still long enough, maybe he would stop watching.
Maybe he would let it go.
Maybe—
“Get some rest.”
His voice broke through quietly.
I didn’t respond or move. But I didn’t relax either.
Because even without looking…I could still feel it.
That steady, unwavering attention of his, was still there. And somehow, that was worse than any question he could have asked.
Because Drake wasn’t pushing or demanding answers. He wasn’t forcing anything out of me.
He was simply watching. And the longer he watched…the more it felt like it wouldn’t be long before he saw something I wasn’t ready to reveal.
My fingers curled slightly against the sheets again, the faint unease in my stomach returning in slow, quiet waves.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay still. To breathe evenly and act normal.
But across the room, I felt that subtle almost invisible shift .
It didn’t feel like concern anymore. It felt like suspicion.
- Writer
