Stephanie lay there—peaceful, vulnerable—her breathing slow and steady, the rise and fall of her chest almost hypnotic. The dim light from the window painted soft shadows across her face, tracing her cheekbones, catching the faint shimmer in her hair. Samuel stood there, his gaze fixed on her as if afraid she might vanish if he blinked.
She looked untouched by the storm that had brought her here. But his chest felt tight, weighed down by questions that clawed at his thoughts.
Why would anyone do this to someone so young? So beautiful?
His mind spun, trying to stitch together the fragments he knew about her—the fear in her eyes, the way she'd flinched at sudden sounds, the things she hadn't said. He imagined betrayals, pain, long nights spent looking over her shoulder. But nothing formed a picture that made sense.
He swallowed hard and crouched beside her, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Stephanie… Stephanie."
Her eyelids trembled, but she didn't wake. For a moment, he feared she might slip away again.
Samuel slid his arms under her, feeling the fragile weight of her body. She felt like fine glass in his hands—precious, delicate, easily broken. He carried her to the guest room, laying her gently on the bed. The blanket he pulled over her wasn't just to keep her warm—it was his quiet promise that she was safe here.
He lingered a moment longer, eyes tracing her sleeping face, before stepping out in silence.
In the bathroom, steam curled around him, but the hot water did little to soothe the churn in his chest. Was this kindness? Guilt? Something else he couldn't name? The more he searched for answers, the further they slipped from reach.
He stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist—then froze.
Stephanie was there.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes wide and uncertain, she looked like someone who had wandered into a place she didn't fully understand.
The air between them tightened. Neither spoke.
"I… I can't sleep alone," she said finally, her voice trembling. "Can I stay here with you?"
Her words caught him off guard—not just for what she asked, but for the raw vulnerability in them.
"You could've knocked," he said, aiming for stern but landing somewhere closer to gentle.
"I know," she whispered, gaze dropping. "I'm sorry."
She shifted, as if to leave, but he caught her wrist—lightly, carefully. "What's wrong?"
"I'm cold. I couldn't sleep. I shouldn't have come in like this."
His irritation melted away. "It's okay," he said quietly. "You can stay."
She climbed into the bed, curling toward the wall. Samuel pulled on shorts and a T-shirt before lying beside her.
The silence between them was fragile, almost brittle.
Then her leg brushed his.
He didn't move away.
At first, the contact felt accidental, tentative. But then it lingered—became intentional. They shifted closer until their eyes met in the dim glow.
He leaned in. Kissed her.
It wasn't planned. It wasn't polite. It was heat and confusion and something far deeper than either of them wanted to admit.
And once the fire was lit, it didn't stop.
They kissed again. And again. Hands and hearts tangled in a rush of need that blurred the lines between right and wrong. They gave in to it—raw, tender, unrestrained—until the night burned itself out.
Morning arrived in soft gold through the curtains.
Samuel woke first, Stephanie curled into him like she belonged there. He studied the curve of her cheek, the way her lips parted slightly in sleep.
What have I done?
He slipped away, pulling on his boxers, and went to the kitchen. The coffee machine whirred to life, filling the air with a rich, grounding aroma.
Stephanie padded in, wrapped in the same blanket from last night, hair still tousled. Without speaking, he handed her a cup.
"Hope you slept well," he said.
"I did," she replied with a faint smile. "Thanks to you." She hesitated. "But… I didn't come to your room for that."
"I didn't plan for it either," he said softly.
They stared at each other, a silence thick with unspoken truths.
A knock shattered it.
Samuel's chest tightened. He slipped into the bedroom, grabbed a pair of shorts, and opened the door.
Raymond stood there, crisp shirt, bag slung over his shoulder.
"Raymond!" Samuel said, surprised.
"Heading to work. Thought I'd check in." Raymond stepped inside, eyes sweeping the apartment. They landed on the blanket tossed over the couch just as Stephanie appeared in the kitchen doorway, still wrapped in it.
Raymond's brow arched. "Didn't know you had company."
Samuel cleared his throat. "Steph, this is my friend Raymond. He's the one who sent us the gate pass."
Stephanie offered a small smile. "Welcome, Raymond."
Raymond nodded, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Nice to meet you."
She slipped back into the room, and after a short chat, Raymond left.
Samuel returned to find Stephanie straightening the bed.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine. Just… I don't want to make things harder for you."
"You're not. And if this is about last night—I don't regret it."
"I just don't want to be someone you regret helping," she said quietly.
"You're not," he said, holding her hands. "It happened fast, but it meant something. We'll figure it out."
She searched his face. "Even with everything going on?"
He kissed her softly. "We'll figure it out."
Later, alone in the bathroom, Samuel stared at himself in the mirror. Was this passion? Pity? Loneliness? Or something else entirely?
When he came back, Stephanie was folding the blanket.
"Any plans today?" he asked.
"Not really. You told me to stay in."
"Just relax. I'll renew the TV subscription. Call me if you need anything."
She took a small step toward him, then stopped herself.
"You don't have to walk on eggshells," he said gently.
"I know. It's just… everything's happening so fast. And there are things I haven't told you."
He raised a hand, stopping her. "We'll talk about it. Just not now. One step at a time."
But as he left, her gaze followed him to the door, her lips pressing into a thin line.
—
And then he shot the door behind him, living her standing in the quiet apartment—coffee in hand, wrapped in warmth, yet tangled in a thousand thoughts.
"They're going to find me… sooner than you think
Stephanie whispered to the empty room.