The alarm buzzed, a sound as grey and predictable as the life it signaled.
7:00 AM.
Aiden Vale's eyes opened, not with a jolt, but with a slow, resigned acceptance.
Another Tuesday.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the cold wood floor a familiar shock against his bare feet.
The room was neat, meticulously so.
Books stacked by spine color, not author.
Clothes folded in perfect squares inside his closet.
A life curated to have no sharp edges, no surprises.
He padded into the bathroom, the fluorescent light humming a dull, monotonous tune.
Brush teeth.
Splash cold water on face.
Stare at the reflection in the mirror.
Deep grey eyes stared back, holding a universe of boredom.
His dark hair had a slight wave he always tried to comb flat, a tiny rebellion he couldn't quite tame.
"Good morning, you monument to untapped potential," he muttered to his reflection, his voice a dry, quiet rasp.
Breakfast was two slices of toast, burnt just enough around the edges to be interesting, and black coffee.
He ate standing up in the kitchen, staring out the window at the perfectly manicured lawn.
His father, Leonard, insisted on order in all things.
The lawn. The house. His son.
Aiden checked his watch. 7:28 AM.
Perfectly on schedule.
He'd leave for the office at 8:00 AM, arrive at 8:45 AM, and spend the day filing reports that no one would ever read.
He rinsed his plate and placed it in the dishwasher, aligning it perfectly with the others.
He hated it.
He hated the quiet, the predictability, the suffocating politeness of his own existence.
He was a ghost in his own life, haunting the hallways of a house that never felt like a home.
He leaned against the counter, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
A silent, desperate plea shot out into the universe, a wish he barely dared to acknowledge even to himself.
Maybe today something… different.
Something exciting.
Anything but another dull Tuesday.
As if on cue, the sound of the front door unlocking shattered the morning's sacred silence.
Aiden's eyes snapped open.
His father never came back home after leaving for work.
Ever.
Leonard Vale was a man who treated his corporate office as his true home and this house as a convenient place to store his suits and his son.
Aiden moved quietly toward the foyer, his heart giving a suspicious thump.
There stood his father, his face an impassive mask of cold efficiency, dressed in a suit so sharp it could cut glass.
But he wasn't alone.
Standing beside him, looking both radiant and deeply out of place, was a woman who seemed to be woven from sunlight and silk.
Elena.
Her wavy blonde hair framed a face with gentle blue eyes, and she clutched the handle of a small, elegant suitcase.
She was his father's fiancée, a fact Aiden tried his best to ignore.
A beautiful, warm, and utterly terrifying complication in his sterile world.
Leonard's gaze flicked to Aiden, devoid of any warmth.
"Aiden. Good. You're here."
It wasn't a greeting. It was a statement of fact.
"Elena will be staying here for a while," his father announced, his tone as casual as if he were discussing a stock merger. "Her apartment building is having some emergency pipework done. It's more convenient this way."
Convenient.
Of course.
Everything in his father's world was about convenience and efficiency.
Elena offered a small, nervous smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
She looked at Aiden, then at his father, a flicker of panic crossing her face.
"You didn't tell him I was coming!" she whispered to Leonard, her voice a soft, horrified hiss.
Leonard simply adjusted his tie, unconcerned.
"It's handled now. He knows."
Aiden's mind went completely, utterly blank.
She would be staying here?
In this house?
Living here?
His brain felt like a dial-up modem trying to connect to a high-speed reality.
The silence that followed was thick and suffocating.
Aiden could feel a cold sweat prickle the back of his neck.
He was a loner by trade. He enjoyed the vast, empty quiet of the house.
Her presence felt like a lit match in a room full of dynamite.
And not just any presence.
Her presence.
The woman his emotionally constipated father was going to marry.
The woman who, during their few excruciatingly formal dinners together, had looked at him with a kindness that made his skin itch.
"I… see," Aiden managed to say, the words feeling foreign in his mouth.
His father's phone buzzed, a sharp, intrusive sound.
He pulled it out, his expression darkening as he read the screen.
"I have to go," Leonard said abruptly, already turning toward the door. "An urgent meeting just came up in the downtown office."
He didn't say goodbye.
He didn't kiss his fiancée.
He just… left.
The front door clicked shut, sealing Aiden and Elena in a tomb of pure, unadulterated awkwardness.
Elena let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping slightly.
She finally turned to face him fully, her blue eyes wide with apology.
"I am so, so sorry about this, Aiden," she said, her voice soft and trembling slightly. "He was supposed to call you this morning. I thought you knew."
Aiden just stood there, his mind still buffering.
He felt like a computer that had just been handed a command it couldn't process.
Error 404: Social Skills Not Found.
"It's… fine," he lied, his voice sounding stiff even to his own ears.
She fidgeted with the delicate silver necklace at her throat, a nervous habit he'd noticed before.
"I really hope I'm not intruding. Leonard said it would only be for a week or two."
A week? Two weeks? That's an eternity.
"The guest room at the end of the hall is yours," he said, pointing vaguely. "It's… clean."
Wow, Vale. Dazzle her with your hosting skills.
She gave another small, grateful smile. "Thank you. You're very kind."
He wasn't kind. He was terrified.
He was overwhelmed by this sudden, jarring disruption to his perfectly ordered, perfectly miserable life.
He could feel her warmth from across the foyer, a gentle energy that his own cynical nature wanted to reject immediately.
He needed to escape.
Now.
"I have to get to work," he blurted out, a bit too quickly.
Elena's face fell slightly. "Oh. Of course. I'm sorry for holding you up."
"It's fine," he repeated, the word losing all meaning.
He grabbed his keys from the bowl by the door, his movements jerky and uncoordinated.
He could feel her eyes on him, full of a gentle concern that felt like an interrogation.
He didn't want to be analyzed. He didn't want to be understood.
He just wanted to be left alone in his quiet, predictable world.
Without another word, he turned and fled, pulling the door shut behind him and practically sprinting to his car.
He sat in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his heart hammering against his ribs.
It was only 8:15 AM.
And his day, his week, his entire life, had already been completely derailed.
Instead of driving to the office, he drove aimlessly.
He couldn't face the sterile environment of his workplace, not now.
His mind was too loud, a chaotic mess of anxiety and confusion.
He needed space. He needed quiet.
He found himself pulling into the parking lot of a small, secluded park he sometimes visited on his lunch breaks.
It was mostly empty at this time of day.
Perfect.
He got out of the car and walked along a winding path, the cool morning air doing little to calm the frantic energy buzzing under his skin.
He sat on a cold, iron bench overlooking a small, still pond.
He was just an introvert.
He didn't do well with… people.
Especially not beautiful, kind-hearted people who were engaged to his father and were now living in his house.
He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.
Maybe he was overreacting.
It was just a temporary arrangement.
She would be gone in a week or two, and his life would return to its glorious, monotonous normal.
But a part of him knew that was a lie.
Something had shifted, a crack had appeared in the foundation of his carefully constructed world.
And then, he heard it.
A voice.
It wasn't from a passerby. It was inside his head, as clear and intimate as a whisper in his ear.
It was feminine, playful, and laced with an ethereal echo that seemed to vibrate through his very bones.
"Ah…" the voice sighed, a sound like wind chimes and honey.
Aiden's eyes shot open. He looked around wildly.
The park was empty.
He was completely alone.
He must be more stressed than he thought.
He was starting to hear things.
He shook his head, trying to clear it.
"...You are so beautifully predictable,… yet beneath all that quiet misery, I can taste such delicious potential." the voice continued, ignoring his dismissal. It sounded amused, like it was enjoying a private joke.
Aiden froze, his breath catching in his throat.
This wasn't just his imagination.
It felt too real. Too distinct.
The voice giggled, a light, tinkling sound that sent a shiver down his spine.
"Fun awaits, darling vessel."
Vessel?
What the hell did that mean?
"Who's there?" Aiden whispered into the empty air, feeling like a complete idiot.
There was no answer, just the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze.
His heart was now beating a frantic rhythm against his ribs, a drumbeat of pure panic.
First Elena, now a mysterious, seductive voice in his head calling him her "darling vessel."
This was not the "different" or "exciting" he had wished for.
This was a one-way ticket to a padded room.
He pushed himself up from the bench, his legs feeling unsteady beneath him.
He needed to go home.
No, he couldn't go home. Elena was there.
The office. He would go to the office and bury himself in paperwork until the world started making sense again.
He took a step, but a wave of dizziness washed over him, so intense it made the world tilt on its axis.
A sharp, ringing sound filled his ears, drowning out everything else.
The edges of his vision began to blur, darkening into a closing tunnel.
The voice was back, but this time it was softer, laced with something that sounded almost like concern.
"Oh, dear," Liora whispered, dripping with amused concern.
"First contact is always messy. Mortals break so easily."
His knees buckled.
Vision blurred into shadow.
"Don't worry," her voice echoed through the dark sucking him under.
"I'll catch you next time."
The sky spun.
And Aiden collapsed.