Deep Consuming Addiction

Chapter 110

✨Terms of Us✨

Ari Darven

The room was quiet in a way that didn’t feel empty.

Soft.

Settled.

The kind of quiet that came after something had been broken—and chosen again anyway.

Elena lay half-curled into Ari’s side, her head resting against his chest, his arm wrapped securely around her like it had found its place there and decided not to move again. The sheets were tangled around them, the city lights dim beyond the glass, the world outside still turning—but distant.

For once—

Nothing felt urgent.

Ari’s fingers moved slowly along her arm, absentminded but grounding, like he was still confirming she was there.

She was.

But her mind wasn’t entirely still.

“You walked away,” she said quietly.

Not accusing.

Just… true.

Ari didn’t answer immediately.

His hand stilled for half a second before continuing, slower now.

“You asked for space,” he replied.

“I asked for understanding,” she corrected softly.

That landed.

He exhaled through his nose, his grip on her tightening just slightly.

“And I gave you distance instead,” he said.

“Yes.”

Silence stretched—not uncomfortable, but honest.

Elena shifted, lifting her head just enough to look at him.

“We can’t do that again,” she said.

Not emotional.

Not fragile.

Clear.

Ari met her gaze fully. “Then we don’t.”

“That’s not how it works,” she said, a faint hint of a smile touching her lips. “We don’t just decide and suddenly we’re perfect.”

“I don’t need perfect,” he replied. “I need clear.”

Her brows lifted slightly. “Okay… then let’s be clear.”

He watched her carefully now. Focused. Present.

“No walking away,” she said first. “Not when it matters. Not when it’s hard.”

Ari nodded once. “Agreed.”

“No shutting down either,” she added. “You don’t get to decide something for both of us without saying it out loud.”

His jaw shifted slightly—that one hit closer.

“I don’t shut down,” he said.

She gave him a look.

“Ari.”

A pause.

“…I assess,” he corrected.

Elena let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “That’s just a nicer word for it.”

His mouth almost curved.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll talk before I ‘assess.’”

“Good.”

She settled back against him again, but her hand came up, resting lightly over his heart this time.

“My turn,” he said.

She glanced up. “Oh, you have terms?”

“I have standards,” he corrected calmly.

She smiled. “Of course you do.”

Ari’s hand shifted to her waist, steady, grounding.

“No leaving mid-conversation,” he said. “If you’re overwhelmed, say it. Don’t disappear into it.”

Elena nodded slowly. “Okay… that’s fair.”

“And,” he added, quieter now, “don’t make me something you have to protect yourself from.”

That one softened her completely.

“I wasn’t,” she said.

“You were preparing to,” he replied.

She didn’t argue.

Because he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Her fingers curled slightly against his chest.

“I just didn’t want to lose myself,” she admitted.

Ari’s gaze didn’t waver.

“You won’t,” he said.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

There was no hesitation in his voice.

No doubt.

“And how are you so sure?” she asked quietly.

His hand came up, brushing her hair back from her face.

“Because I’m not trying to take anything from you Elena,” he said. “I’m building with you baby.”

That—

That hit differently.

Elena stilled for a second, her breath catching just slightly.

“That’s a very power-couple answer,” she murmured.

Ari’s mouth curved faintly. “It’s a correct one.”

She laughed softly, the tension easing again.

“Okay,” she said. “So we communicate. No disappearing. No making decisions alone. No assuming the worst.”

“And no letting outside pressure define what this is,” he added.

Her expression shifted slightly at that—but she nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “That too.”

Ari studied her for a moment.

Then, quieter—

“If it gets hard again… we don’t step back,” he said. “We step in.”

Elena looked at him.

Really looked at him.

“That sounds terrifying,” she admitted.

“It is,” he said.

A beat.

“But it works.”

She held his gaze for a second longer.

Then—

She leaned in, pressing a slow, soft kiss to his chest, right over his heart.

“Okay,” she whispered.

His arm tightened around her instantly.

“Okay,” he echoed.

And this time—

It didn’t feel like something fragile.

It felt like something built.

Deliberate.

Equal.

The kind of connection that didn’t promise easy—

But promised effort.

Together.

Ari was quite for a while.

One of the things Ari admired most about Elena—

Was that she didn’t bend.

Not for pressure.

Not for expectation.

Not even for fear.

She was steady in a way most people weren’t. Certain. Controlled. Unshaken in rooms that made others fold.

He had seen it in her work, in the way she carried herself, in the way she spoke—measured, intentional, never second-guessing her place.

But with him…

She did.

And that—

That did something to him he couldn’t easily name.

It bruised his ego.

Not in a shallow way.

Not in a way that made him want to dominate or prove something—

But in a way that made him question what it was about him that unsettled her certainty.

Because he never hesitated with her.

Not once.

From the moment he decided he wanted her—really wanted her—there had been no pause, no internal debate, no weighing of options.

He chose her.

And he stood in that choice without flinching.

So to feel her pull back…

To see her question, retreat, struggle where she never did anywhere else—

It didn’t just frustrate him.

It hurt.

Ari hand was still moving slowly along her back, the rhythm steady. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, but his mind was nowhere near it.

“You know what gets me?” he said quietly after a while.

Elena shifted slightly against him, lifting her head just enough to look at him.

“What?”

His jaw tightened faintly before he answered.

“You don’t fold for anything,” he said. “I’ve watched you hold your ground in situations most people would crumble in without blinking.”

She didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t deflect.

“But with me…” he continued, his voice lower now, more honest than he usually let himself be, “you hesitate.”

The words settled between them.

Not sharp.

Not accusing.

Just… real.

Elena’s chest tightened slightly as she studied him, her fingers tracing lightly along his chest without thinking.

“I never had to think twice about you,” he added. “Not once.”

That landed.

Because she knew it was true.

“I know,” she said softly.

Ari finally turned his head, his eyes finding hers again.

“It makes me wonder,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, “what it is about me that makes you unsure.”

There it was.

Not ego.

Not pride.

Vulnerability.

Elena felt it instantly.

“It’s not you baby,” she said, her voice steady but softer than before.

Ari held her gaze.

Didn’t look away.

“Then what is it?” he asked.

She hesitated—

Not like before.

Not from fear.

But because she wanted to say it right.

“You don’t make me unsure,” she said slowly. “You make me feel something I can’t control.”

Ari’s expression shifted slightly.

“And that scares you,” he said.

“Yes.”

No hesitation.

No denial.

Elena’s fingers stilled against his chest as she held his gaze.

“I’ve always known who I am,” she continued. “What I want. How to handle things. But with you… I don’t get to stay in control the same way.”

Ari watched her carefully.

“And instead of leaning into that,” she admitted, “I tried to pull back from it.”

Silence.

But not uncomfortable.

Understanding.

Ari exhaled slowly, his hand stilling for a moment on her back before resuming its slow movement.

“You think I’m in control with you?” he asked quietly.

Elena frowned slightly.

“You always seem like it.”

A faint, almost humorless huff left him.

“Elena… you undo me in ways I don’t show.”

Her breath caught slightly.

“I just don’t run from it,” he added.

That—

That was the difference.

Elena swallowed softly.

“I’m not running anymore,” she said.

Ari studied her for a long moment.

Then his hand moved from her back to her face, his thumb brushing lightly along her cheek.

“Good,” he murmured.

Because this—

This was what he needed.

Not perfection.

Not control.

Just her.

Fully.

"I didn't like that feeling," he admitted.

"Neither did I."

Elena shifted slightly against him, her fingers tracing absent patterns along his chest, but her voice—when she spoke—wasn’t soft.

It carried something deeper.

“You walked away,” she said quietly.

Ari didn’t answer immediately.

Her eyes lifted to his, searching. “When I said I love you… you walked away.”

The words settled between them again—but this time, there was no distance. No doors. No silence to hide behind.

Just truth.

Ari exhaled slowly, his hand tightening where it rested along her back.

“I know.”

That wasn’t enough.

She pushed up slightly, resting on her elbow, looking down at him. “Do you know what that felt like?” she asked, not accusing—but not letting it go either.

His jaw shifted.

“I can guess.”

“No,” she said softly. “You can’t.”

Silence stretched for a moment, but it wasn’t sharp—it was heavy with everything they hadn’t said then.

“I thought I lost you,” she admitted.

That landed.

Ari’s gaze darkened, something real and unguarded moving through it.

“You didn’t,” he said.

“But you made it feel like I did.”

He sat up then, bringing her with him, not letting that distance form again. His hand came to her face, steady, grounding.

“I didn’t walk away because I didn’t feel it,” he said, his voice low, controlled—but strained in a way she hadn’t heard before. “I walked away because I did.”

Her breath caught.

“You hesitated,” he continued. “Not about loving me… but about everything that comes with me.”

Elena swallowed.

“That mattered.”

“I was scared,” she said honestly.

“I know.”

“And you punished me for it.”

That hit sharper than anything else.

Ari stilled.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said after a beat. “But I wasn’t going to stand there and give you everything… while you were still deciding if I was worth the risk.”

Her chest tightened.

“I wasn’t deciding if you were worth it,” she said. “I was trying to figure out if I could survive it.”

That—

That shifted something.

Ari’s hand moved, sliding into her hair, holding her there as his forehead pressed lightly to hers.

“And now?” he asked quietly.

“Now I know I’d rather fight for it than lose you because I was afraid.”

His breath left him slowly.

The tension that had lived in that moment—the one where he walked away—finally easing.

“You don’t ever say something like that to me again…” he murmured.

Her brows knit slightly. “What?”

“…and think I’m walking away,” he finished.

Something softer slipped into her expression.

“Then don’t.”

A pause.

Then, quieter—

“I meant it, Ari.”

His thumb brushed lightly along her cheek.

“I know.”

This time—

He didn’t step back.

This time—

He stayed and held her.

---

Morning light slipped through the curtains in thin golden lines, settling across the bed like it didn’t want to disturb them.

Ari was already awake.

He didn’t move.

Elena was curled into him, her head resting against his chest, one leg thrown over his like she had no intention of letting him go. Her breathing was slow, steady… peaceful in a way he was used to.

His fingers traced lazy patterns along her arm, up and down, barely there. She stirred, shifting closer instead of pulling away, a soft sound leaving her as she tucked her face deeper against him.

Ari smirked.

“Yeah?” he murmured quietly. “That’s how we waking up now?”

She didn’t answer—just tightened her hold on him.

He let out a soft breath, something warm settling in his chest. This… this right here—he understood this more than anything else. No pressure. No expectations. Just her.

After a moment, he shifted slightly, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head.

“Baby,” he said softly.

A pause.

“We have work.”

A small groan escaped her, muffled against his skin.

Ari chuckled, low and amused. “That’s what I thought.”

She finally lifted her head, blinking up at him, eyes still heavy with sleep. “You can take the day off,” she mumbled.

He raised a brow. “You trying to get me in trouble now?”

“You were already in trouble,” she shot back, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Ari let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah… and somehow you’re the reason I don’t mind it.”

Her expression softened at that.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Then she shifted, pushing herself up slightly—only for Ari’s hand to slide to her waist and pull her right back down.

“Where you going?” he asked, voice low, teasing.

“To get ready,” she said, though there was no urgency in it.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers—slow, unhurried. “Too early for that.”

Her breath caught just slightly, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she kissed him back, softer, lingering.

“See?” he murmured against her lips. “You’re not ready either.”

She huffed a quiet laugh.“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re still here,” he replied smoothly.

That earned him a small push to his chest—but she didn’t go far. Ari caught her wrist easily, pulling her back again, this time rolling slightly so he hovered just above her.

Her laughter softened into something quieter, something warmer.

“Ari,” she said, but there was no warning in it.

“Hmm?”

“We really have to get up.”

He studied her for a second, like he was debating it.

Then he sighed—dramatic, exaggerated—before dropping his head to her shoulder. “Five more minutes.”

She smiled, her fingers slipping into his hair, absentmindedly playing with it. “You said that ten minutes ago.”

“And I meant it both times.”

She laughed again, soft and bright, and Ari felt something in his chest settle deeper.

Eventually, they did get up.

Barely.

Elena moved around his room, gathering her things, fixing herself, while Ari leaned against the dresser watching her like he had nowhere else to be.

“What?” she asked, catching his gaze in the mirror.

“Nothing,” he said, but didn’t look away.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. “You’ve been staring at me for five minutes.”

“Longer than that.”

Her lips twitched.

Ari pushed off the dresser, walking up behind her again, his hands settling naturally at her waist. He met her eyes through the mirror, his chin brushing lightly against her shoulder.

“You sure you want to leave?” he murmured.

Her breath hitched—just a little.

“We have to,” she said softly.

He nodded, but didn’t move right away.

Instead, he pressed a slow kiss to her shoulder, lingering just enough to make her close her eyes for a second.

“Alright,” he said finally, though it sounded reluctant.

But his hands stayed on her a second longer.

Like he wasn’t quite ready to let go of their little bubble.