Halfway up my apartment building stairs, a man leaned casually against the railing, cigarette in hand, reeking of alcohol. His smile was lazy and condescending, and his gaze lingered on me too long. My stomach twisted. He made a crude joke, leering at me. I froze, instinctively stepping back.
Elias moved like water, smoothly and impossibly fast, placing himself between us. Without a word, he moved so the man couldn't see me fully and subtly positioned himself between us. He didn't touch me. He didn't threaten. He simply was. And the man straightened, his smirk faltering. He didn't touch the man, didn't raise his voice, but the intensity in his eyes something lethal, precise made the man stop mid-laugh.
"You need to go home," Elias said. Simple. Calm. Unyielding.
The man hesitated, blinked, and then stepped back, muttering curses. After a long moment, he muttered something under his breath and walked away.
I swallowed, feeling an unfamiliar heat rise in my chest. "What... what just happened?"
Elias's gaze softened as he turned to me. "Gentle men like me don't exist. And some men... they need to learn the hard way."
My pulse raced. Fear, yes. But also... awe. Something darker, more thrilling, curled in my stomach.
"You always do this," I said, trying to sound annoyed but failing.
"I'm not doing anything," Elias replied lightly. "Men like him tend to correct themselves when someone who isn't afraid notices them."
I looked at him, at the calm precision in his eyes, and felt a flicker of something unfamiliar: safety.
"You... scare me," I admitted quietly, my hands gripping the stair railing.
He smiled, almost fondly, and said, "Good. You should be afraid of others. But not of me."
"Thank you"
"You don't have to thank me," he said quietly. "Just... be careful."
I nodded, unable to speak. My heart was pounding, my mind spinning. I had never met someone who could be so terrifying and comforting at the same time.
By the time I reached my apartment door, I fumbled with the lock, my hands trembling. He waited patiently, watching me, but not touching. Not yet. I realized I had stopped noticing the ache in my chest. He didn't linger outside. He didn't watch me enter. Yet the sense of protection, the suffocating, almost possessive security-remained.
As I stepped inside, I realized I had begun to rely on him already. Something about Elias made the world outside seem smaller, and yet... I had no idea how deep into his world I was about to be pulled. As I closed the door, I thought I saw a shadow move across my living room window-someone, or something, watching me.
I slept that night with a strange comfort I had never known.