Eliana's POV
Soft.
That was the first thing I felt.
Not fear. Not cold. Not pain.
Just… softness. Like warmth wrapped in cotton. ☁️
My eyelids were stubborn, glued shut by exhaustion. My body felt like freshly dried laundry—heavy, warm, limp. The kind of tired that seeped into your bones.
I forced my eyes open.
The world greeted me in gentle fragments:
A pale yellow ceiling.
A low ticking clock.
Curtains drawn, glowing faintly with late morning light. 🌤️
Faint scent of something clean—lavender? Soap?
Somewhere soft beneath me. A blanket over me.
And someone beside me.
I turned my head slightly—And stopped breathing.
A man sat slouched in a chair just inches from the bed. Head bowed. Arms folded. Chin resting against his chest, dark hair slightly damp, like he'd run his hand through it too many times. His lashes cast curved shadows across sharp cheekbones. His lips—relaxed but shaped like they could ruin a heart with one smirk. 💔
The top two buttons of his collarless black shirt were undone, exposing the smooth dip of his collarbone and a whisper of his throat.
Elegant.
Effortless.
Unreal.
Like he stepped straight out of a K-drama.
And came here.
To protect me.
I blinked.
My heart stuttered once.
Then again.
Before I could stop myself, I reached out—just a little. Not to wake him. Just to make sure he was real.
My fingers hovered close to his cheek, barely a breath away—
And then his eyes opened.
Dark. Sharp. Wide awake.
Our eyes locked. I froze.
He blinked, startled.
I panicked, tried to scoot back—but my limbs were still uncoordinated and heavy from sleep.
Instead of escaping, I slipped.
Straight into him.
My hand gripped his shirt for balance.
My face landed—On his neck.
My lips.
On. His. Neck. 😳
And then…
Time died.
He tensed.
I tensed.
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us breathed.
My face was still pressed against the warm curve of his neck, and he smelled like cedarwood and soap and rain. 🌲🌧️
I felt his pulse stutter beneath my lips.
My mind exploded.
Then—
His phone rang.
The sound cut the silence like a blade. I jumped back, cheeks burning.
He blinked fast and stood, clearing his throat as he reached for his phone.
"Excuse me," he muttered, and stepped toward the window, voice low and controlled. "Yes, Mom… yeah. She's awake."
I sat there, paralyzed, cheeks on fire. Watching him.
And then something shifted.
I blinked again, slowly. My chest tightened.
That face.
The voice.
That night.
The warm hands that caught me.
The arms that held me like I was breakable—but didn't let me break.
The voice that said, "I've got you."
Oh my God.
I knew that voice.
That face.
"Hendrix Parker," I whispered.
He turned back, still holding the phone, and looked at me with an unreadable expression.
"Here," he said, gently holding out the phone. "My mom wants to talk to you."
Wait. What?
I stared at it, confused. Then slowly reached out and took it.
"Hello?" I said hesitantly.
"Sweetheart!" came a warm, smiling voice. "How are you feeling? Did my son take good care of you? Don't let him fool you—he's all grumpy on the outside but turns into a nurse when someone's sick." 💉🫶
I blinked. "Uh… I-I'm okay. Thank you. He—he's been… very kind."
"I'm glad. You rest well, okay? And when I'm back from my trip, we'll all have dinner together. I want to hear everything."
Before I could respond, she ended the call.
I slowly handed the phone back to him. "Um… thanks. For everything. But… we don't even know each other. Why would you… bring me here?"
He slid the phone into his pocket and gave a lazy shrug. "You're Mia's friend."
I froze. "You… knew I'm Mia's friend?"
"Of course," he said, amused. "She's the one who set up the blind date. Remember?"
I stared. "But… how did you know I was that Eliana?"
"You seriously think I'd forget the girl who fake-announced she was pregnant with my child in front of half the café?"
My face flushed.
"And besides," he added, stepping closer, "you didn't leave your address lying around. The storm was crazy. I was nearby. I couldn't just leave my pregnant girlfriend unconscious in the rain, could I?"
I gaped. "Still with the pregnancy joke?"
He grinned. "You started it." 😏
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. My brain still fuzzy. My heart confused. But somewhere deep in my chest…
The tiniest spark of something warm.
And real. 🔥
He watched me for a second longer, then—like he could sense I was overwhelmed—his voice softened.
"You should freshen up," he said gently. "There's a change of clothes in the wardrobe. They're new. I asked Mom to leave something for you just in case."
My brows lifted. "Just in case?"
He gave a one-shouldered shrug, smirking. "I had a feeling you might wake up stubborn."
My mouth opened in protest, but before I could say anything, he turned and made his way to the door.
Just before stepping out, he paused and glanced back.
"I'll be in the kitchen. Yell if you need anything. Or don't. I'll probably still hear you."
And with that—he left.
I stared at the door after it clicked shut behind him.
He left so casually—like he hadn't just flipped my entire world upside down.
But my heart… it wasn't casual at all.
Because the second he walked out, something inside me stirred.
A memory—not sharp, but soft. Blurry around the edges, like a photo left in the sun.
Last night.
The storm.
The fear.
And then—him.
Arms that caught me before the ground could.
A chest I collapsed into, like it was always meant to be there.
That voice—steady, low, wrapping around me like a promise.
"I've got you." 🤍
I remembered the way I clung to his shirt. The scent of rain and cedarwood. The way he held me—firm, protective, like I wasn't a burden but something fragile he'd fight the world to keep safe.
A feeling I hadn't felt in years.
Safe.
And the strangest part?
Even now… I still felt it.
Here.
With him.
And I didn't know what scared me more—
That he made me feel it.
Or that part of me didn't want to let it go.