CHAPTER 4
1823 Words
AURORA CROSS
The silence in the room is comforting.
For the first time in days, my head feels light.
I rest it on his shoulder, and for a moment, I only hear the sound of the clock and Damon’s steady breathing.
He’s warm.
His fingers touch my face with such delicacy they barely feel real.
A soft caress that slides from my temple to my chin, as if he’s trying to memorize me with his fingertips.
“You need to sleep,” he murmurs, and his voice is deep, like a warm blanket in the middle of a storm.
I close my eyes. I try.
But my heart is beating too fast, my emotions too conflicted to simply switch off.
And then... I feel it.
His fingers.
On my lips.
The gentle touch makes my breath hitch. I open my eyes slowly, and he’s looking at me.
Directly. Intensely. Like he sees everything I try to hide.
His fingers stay there, brushing my lips as if they belonged to him.
And maybe they do, for a few seconds.
I lift my face. Our eyes lock.
And without thinking — without fear — I kiss him.
It’s simple at first. A hesitant, timid touch... until he moans against my mouth.
A low, rough sound that sends shivers through my whole body.
He pulls me into him, his arms wrapping around me, holding me like I belong to him.
Like he’s afraid to let go.
His mouth molds to mine with hunger.
He kisses with intensity.
Gentle bites on my lips, hands gripping my waist, and everything inside me begs for more.
I slide onto his lap, fitting there with terrifying ease.
His legs firm beneath mine, his body so close it’s almost unbearable.
I want more.
I need more.
But then... he stops.
Damon rests his forehead against mine, his breath uneven, eyes closed like he’s fighting something.
“Lexie... I can’t yet.”
Confusion hits me like a cold wave.
For a second, all I hear is the sound of my own heart.
And then I remember.
The dead wife. The daughter he never met. The pain he still carries.
I slowly get off his lap, feeling the weight of reality.
“Sorry... I got carried away.”
He shakes his head.
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s just... it still hurts. But I know I need to move on someday.”
“I hope I’m around when that day comes,” I murmur, leaning against his chest again.
He runs his fingers through my hair, and I close my eyes.
This time, sleep comes.
When I wake up, the spot beside me is empty. Damon is gone.
I sit on the couch, hair messy, chest still warm from the memory of the kiss.
I look at Shadow, who stares at me with a curious expression.
“I’m completely crazy, aren’t I?” I ask, and he tilts his head as if to confirm.
“Almost in love with a man I’ve known for... days. That’s not normal.”
He blinks, and I laugh.
I take off the T-shirt I wore to sleep and head to the bathroom.
I need a shower, something to help me process everything.
My lips are still tingling from the kiss last night.
I walk into the bathroom distracted, naked, pulling the towel from the hook.
And then I scream.
There’s someone in the shower.
Tall, strong, and I can’t see his face.
I grab the shampoo holder and raise it in the air, ready to attack.
“It’s me!” Damon’s voice comes, muffled but urgent. “It’s just me, Lexie!”
I freeze, breathless.
My heart nearly jumps out of my chest.
He turns slowly.
He’s wearing jeans, shirtless, wet hair and muscles gleaming under the light.
“Damon?! What are you doing here?!”
“I’m sorry. I woke up early and left, but came back because there’s no water in my apartment and... I thought you wouldn’t mind.”
I cover myself with the towel, my face burning.
“I thought you had left...”
“I came back before you woke up,” he says, chuckling softly, a little embarrassed.
But I can barely look at him.
His chest holds more than a tattoo and letters I don’t understand, but that seem old, important.
Small scars cross his skin.
He’s covered in marks, and I want to know every story.
He looks at me.
His eyes slide over me, but he’s not disrespectful.
He’s curious. Careful. Warm.
“We should stop meeting like this, Lexie,” he says, and his tone is half laughter, half desire.
I smile, trying to hide the nerves.
“For sure.”
He steps closer.
Slowly.
Touches my face with one hand.
His thumb brushes my cheek, and my whole body reacts.
The towel slips a little, and I hold it tightly.
He looks into my eyes, and the whole world goes silent.
Then he kisses me.
Firmly.
With desire.
No more excuses.
And I kiss him back.
Because despite everything, despite the fear and the mess we are, I want this.
I want him.
And maybe... he wants me too.
I watch through the slit in the curtain as Damon crosses the street, his posture as rigid as always and an unreadable expression on his face.
He's wearing a dark suit, his backpack slung over one shoulder, heading toward the subway station.
When he turns the corner, I close the curtain and turn around, my heart pounding in my chest.
It’s today.
Today I’m finally going to catch that damn stalker.
I take a deep breath, grab my planner, and sit at the table with a blue pen between my fingers.
I open to a random page and carefully write:
"Tonight. Party at 14th Club, 10PM. Going alone. Need to unwind after this week."
I leave the page fully visible on the desk in the living room, along with my keys and phone — just like I always do with my things.
He goes through everything. Obviously. And if he's reading my planner... he'll read this.
Then I put on my running clothes, tie my hair into a quick bun, leash the dog, and head downstairs, pretending I'm just sticking to my routine.
But I'm not.
At the first corner, I stray from the usual route and enter an electronics store.
I buy two small security cameras, with Wi-Fi and app control on the phone.
The clerk even tries to chat, but I’m too tense for smiles.
At the park, I run like the adrenaline might escape through the soles of my shoes.
Shadow tugs the leash excitedly, but my mind is elsewhere. The plan. The cameras. His face.
I return shortly before noon.
And the blood drains from my body the moment I see the white envelope on the floor, right in front of the apartment door.
My heartbeat echoes in my ears as I bend down to pick it up.
I open it with trembling hands. The handwriting is the same as always: elegant, slanted, almost poetic.
"Going out alone at night isn’t safe, Aurora. Be careful. I’m still here."
I smile. Ironically. A smile that mixes nerves, fear… and the confirmation I needed.
He read the planner. He was here. Today.
I enter with Shadow and go straight to install the cameras.
One is hidden in the bookshelf in the living room, tucked among old volumes.
The other, carefully placed behind a stuffed animal on top of the wardrobe, its lens pointed at the bed.
I review everything, test the app. It works.
Before leaving, I turn off the lights, close the curtains, and lock the doors. I want it to look like an empty house.
But fate, of course, decides to interfere.
When I grab my purse to leave, Shadow jumps toward the door and, in his excitement, bumps into a side table.
A vase falls and shatters on the floor with a sharp crack.
"No!" I curse, kneeling to pick up the pieces.
And then I hear it.
Footsteps.
In the hallway.
Slow. Cautious.
I freeze.
I lift my eyes toward the door. It’s locked, but the handle moves. As if someone is testing it gently.
Shadow lets out a low growl. I widen my eyes and pull him with me, running to the bedroom.
I squeeze into the closet, hiding among the hangers, and shut the door from inside. Shadow trembles in my arms.
"Please stay quiet, please..." I whisper, kissing his head and holding him tightly.
With the phone in my hand, I open the camera app.
In the living room feed, I see the door slowly opening.
A man enters.
Tall. He’s wearing a dark hoodie with the hood up. The camera doesn’t catch his face clearly, but I see the way he looks around.
Like he already knows everything here.
I bite my lips until I taste blood.
He walks to the table. Pulls something from his coat pocket.
A bouquet of red roses.
I feel my heart stop for a second. My hands start sweating.
Red roses.
My mother’s favorite flowers.
At the old house, there was an entire garden of them. Before the fire. Before everything turned to ashes.
I never told anyone that. Never posted it online. Never told Damon.
He knew.
The tears start falling and I don’t even notice. I want to see his face. I need to.
But he moves calmly, unhurried. Never lifts his chin.
Suddenly, he turns toward the hallway.
“No… no…” I whisper, clutching the dog.
He enters the bedroom.
I see through the camera the moment he approaches the bed.
Touches the sheets, as if feeling the warmth I left behind.
Closes his eyes for a moment, breathes deeply.
I cover my mouth with my hand. The tears now flood.
He steps away from the bed. The hoodie collar slips down a bit.
And then I see it.
A silver chain around his neck. A pendant.
A wolf howling at the moon.
I’ve never seen it before.
My heart races.
Maybe it could be Damon.
But it can’t be. I grab the phone with trembling hands and call him. I need to hear. I need to know.
He answers on the third ring.
"Lexie? Are you okay? Are you crying?"
There’s noise in the background. People talking. Loud sounds. A subway station.
It’s not him.
I hang up without saying a word.
For a moment, I think he’s gone.
Silence.
But then Shadow barks. Loudly.
“No, no, no,” I whisper, desperately grabbing the dog.
The bark echoes through the house.
And I hear the footsteps coming straight toward the closet.
The floor creaks.
I clutch Shadow tightly. My heart beats so hard it feels like I might die right here.
My eyes fixed on the crack in the door.
The doorknob turns.
No…
- Writer
