Chapter 5: The Wrong Place
1094 Words
Lena stayed in Ethan’s room for exactly four minutes before deciding she hated being told what to do.
Especially by him.
She paced once across the room, arms folded tightly, listening to the muffled sounds outside. The party downstairs was still loud, but the hallway had gone quiet again.
Too quiet.
Her eyes moved around the room properly for the first time.
It didn’t look how she expected.
No giant mess. No alcohol everywhere. No expensive decorations trying too hard to impress people.
The room was simple.
Clean.
A desk covered in books and papers stood near the wall, and a black hoodie had been tossed carelessly over a chair. The soft piano music playing quietly from a speaker near the bed caught her attention most.
Again with the piano music.
It didn’t fit him.
Nothing about Ethan Blackwood seemed to fit together properly.
Lena walked toward the desk before stopping herself.
Nope.
Not snooping.
Definitely not snooping.
She turned away immediately.
Then noticed something else.
A small bruise near her wrist.
Her brows furrowed.
She hadn’t even realized someone must’ve grabbed her arm downstairs earlier when the crowd got crazy near the stairs.
Great.
Now she was annoyed again.
A few minutes later, the door finally opened.
Ethan stepped back inside.
Lena immediately straightened. “What’s happening out there?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s obviously a lie.”
He shut the door behind him and leaned against it for a second like he was tired.
Actually tired.
Not the cold, unreadable version of him she usually saw.
“You should leave,” he said quietly.
Lena stared at him. “You dragged me into your room and disappeared.”
“I told you to stay here.”
“That’s not normal behavior, Ethan.”
A small breath escaped him, almost like a frustrated laugh.
“Yeah. I know.”
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then his eyes landed on her wrist.
His expression changed immediately.
“What happened?”
Lena looked down. “Nothing.”
“That doesn’t look like nothing.”
“It’s a bruise. I’ll survive.”
Ethan walked closer before she could react.
Not close enough to scare her.
Just enough to see her wrist properly.
His fingers wrapped gently around her hand, turning it slightly toward the light.
Lena’s breath caught for a second.
Not because he hurt her.
Because he didn’t.
His touch was surprisingly careful.
“Someone grabbed you,” he said.
It wasn’t a question.
Lena looked at him. “Probably in the crowd.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
And suddenly, he looked angry.
Not at her.
At whoever touched her.
“That’s why I told you not to come here.”
Lena slowly pulled her hand back. “You keep acting like something terrible is happening around me.”
“Because there is.”
The answer came too fast.
Too honestly.
The room went quiet.
Lena searched his face, trying to understand him again.
“You really think I’m in danger?”
Ethan held her gaze for a few seconds before looking away.
“I think you notice things you shouldn’t.”
“That sounds insane.”
“It probably does.”
Lena let out a nervous laugh. “Okay, now you officially sound like a crime documentary.”
That actually got a small smile out of him.
A real one this time.
And for some reason, seeing Ethan smile felt strange.
Like watching someone lower a weapon you didn’t realize they were holding.
“You joke when you’re nervous,” he said.
“You become dramatic when you avoid questions.”
“Fair enough.”
Another silence settled between them.
But this one didn’t feel awkward.
It felt… weirdly calm.
Dangerously calm.
Then someone knocked on the door.
Three sharp knocks.
Ethan’s entire expression hardened instantly.
Lena noticed it immediately.
The softness disappeared like it had never existed.
“Stay here,” he said quietly.
“Again?”
“Yes. Again.”
He opened the door slightly without fully letting the person outside see inside.
Lena couldn’t hear everything clearly, but she caught pieces.
“…looking for her…”
“…already handled it…”
“…your father called…”
That last part changed Ethan’s expression again.
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration before shutting the door.
Lena frowned. “Your father seems intense.”
“That’s one word for it.”
“You know, most people would just tell me what’s going on.”
“Most people aren’t me.”
“That’s becoming very obvious.”
For the first time all night, Ethan laughed properly.
Not loudly.
But enough to make Lena stare at him.
“What?” he asked.
“You actually laugh.”
“Sometimes.”
“Wow. Should we celebrate?”
His eyes stayed on her for a second longer than necessary.
And suddenly the room felt smaller.
Lena looked away first.
Bad idea.
Very bad idea.
Because now she was noticing stupid things.
Like how close he was standing.
Or how unfairly nice his voice sounded when he wasn’t trying to intimidate people.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
“You should go back to your dorm,” Ethan said eventually.
This time his voice sounded softer.
Less like an order.
Lena nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
He grabbed his jacket from the chair and opened the door for her.
The hallway outside was quieter now. Most people had gone back downstairs.
As they walked side by side toward the stairs, Lena noticed students staring again.
Whispering again.
But this time, she understood why.
Ethan Blackwood wasn’t cold all the time.
He just kept everyone far away on purpose.
Everyone except her.
The realization made her stomach tighten slightly.
At the bottom of the stairs, Lena stopped walking.
“So,” she said awkwardly, “thanks for not letting me die tonight, I guess.”
One corner of his mouth lifted.
“You’re welcome.”
She started walking toward the front door before turning back.
“Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
Lena hesitated.
Then finally asked the question that had been bothering her all week.
“Why are you different with me?”
For once, Ethan didn’t answer immediately.
His eyes stayed on hers for a long moment before he spoke.
“Maybe because you’re different with me too.”
And just like that, Lena forgot how to breathe properly for a second.
Which was ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
Because Ethan Blackwood was trouble.
She knew that already.
The problem was—
she was starting not to care.
- Writer
