🖤
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The silence in her room was louder than thunder.
Rain trickled down the windowpane, a steady rhythm matching the quickening beat of Maya's heart. Elias stood in the center of her space like he'd been there before — like he belonged. The storm outside raged, but the real chaos was inside her.
Maya shut the door behind her and leaned against it, as if it were the only thing keeping her upright.
He didn't speak. Didn't move.
He just looked at her — and not in the way boys at school looked at her. Not like she was soft or safe. Elias looked at her like she was an open wound he couldn't stop touching.
Her voice was a whisper.
"Why are you really here?"
He turned to face her slowly, his wet hair clinging to his forehead, rain dripping from the edge of his jaw.
"You let me in," he said.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one that matters."
She moved to the far side of the room, suddenly needing distance. But her small bedroom didn't give her much. She felt him everywhere — in the damp scent of his skin, the heat rising off his body, the thunder in her chest.
"You hate me."
"I do."
"You kissed me."
"I still taste you."
Maya's fingers tightened around the hem of her hoodie.
"You're messing with me, Elias."
"No," he said, stepping toward her, slow and deliberate. "I'm obsessed with you."
She froze.
No denial. No deflection.
Just truth, sharp and clean like a cut to the bone.
"I shouldn't be," he continued, his voice lower now. "But I am. You remind me of everything I lost… and everything I can't stop wanting."
Her back hit the wall. He was in front of her before she could speak again.
His hands didn't touch her. Not yet.
But his eyes pinned her in place.
"You want me to leave?"
She didn't answer.
"Say the word," he breathed. "I'll go."
She opened her mouth.
But no sound came out.
So he reached for her — not harshly, not in anger. His fingers curled around the zipper of her soaked hoodie, dragging it down inch by inch. The cold air hit her skin, goosebumps rising instantly. Beneath it, her shirt clung tight from the rain, outlining the curve of her chest, the slope of her stomach.
Elias's throat bobbed, but he didn't touch her skin.
Not yet.
"You're not afraid of me," he murmured.
"I am."
"Then why aren't you running?"
"Because I don't think you'd let me."
His lips curved into something dark. Dangerous.
"You're right."
He leaned forward — and pinned her gently against the wall. One hand beside her head, the other tracing the line of her jaw with the back of his fingers.
"Tell me to stop," he said.
"Stop," she whispered.
He didn't move.
"Say it like you mean it."
Maya swallowed hard. "I can't."
Then his mouth was on hers — and it wasn't careful.
It was claiming.
He kissed her like he was trying to erase her mouth, like he was trying to make her forget every kiss she'd ever known. His hands slid under her shirt, not greedy, not groping — but possessive. As if her body answered to him.
Maya gasped against him, nails digging into his shoulders as his lips moved down her neck. He kissed the hollow of her throat, the top of her chest. Her breath hitched when his tongue flicked across her collarbone.
"Do you like this?" he asked.
Her head dropped back against the wall. "I don't know."
"You do," he whispered. "But you hate that it's me."
"Yes."
"Good."
His fingers slid higher, brushing the underside of her bra. She jerked slightly, and he stilled.
"Too much?"
She hesitated.
Then, softly: "Not enough."
That was it.
He picked her up — her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist — and carried her the two steps to her bed. He laid her down like she was made of glass and sin, then hovered above her, dripping water onto her sheets.
"You shouldn't want me," he said, brushing a wet strand of hair from her cheek.
"I know."
"I'm not kind."
"I don't want kind."
His expression cracked — just a flicker — and for a second, Maya saw a boy beneath the monster. A boy who once loved her sister. A boy who broke when Mira did.
"I hate you," he whispered, mouth ghosting over hers.
"Then show me."
And he did.
He kissed her again — deeper, slower. Hands mapped her body like he was memorizing fault lines. He didn't undress her, didn't rush her. But every inch of his touch said mine.
He moved down her body, kissing her stomach through the fabric, dragging his teeth gently across her hipbone. Her hands twisted in the sheets. Her breathing shattered.
Maya didn't recognize herself.
Not in the way she clung to him.
Not in the way she whispered his name like a curse and a prayer.
And then—
The doorbell rang.
Once.
Then again.
Louder.
They both froze.
Maya's eyes widened, heart thudding.
Elias slowly pulled back, his breathing ragged, his face dark.
Someone pounded the door now.
"Maya! I know you're in there! Open up!"
Her stomach dropped.
That voice.
Jax.
Elias sat up slowly. His jaw clenched. Something dangerous gleamed in his eyes.
"Guess he didn't get enough the first time."
"Don't," Maya whispered, panic rising in her throat.
But Elias was already standing.
Already stalking toward the window.
Already calculating.
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