Sebastian Ashford's POV
Everyone had left.
The chairs scraped back, notebooks zipped, doors flung open in a rush of noise and laughter. It all faded—except her.
Rain Wang still sat in the back corner, hunched over her notes like they were a shield. Like if she stayed still enough, no one would notice she was breathing.
But I noticed.
I always fucking noticed.
I stood by the door too long, pretending to check something on my phone while the room emptied. And when it finally did—when the last voice disappeared down the hallway—I turned back.
She was still there. Like she hadn't moved.
Like she was waiting for it.
I walked toward her, slow. She didn't look up.
"Rain."
Her head jerked slightly. Her fingers clenched tighter around the edge of the desk.I said her name again, softer this time. Like it might mean something different now.
She still wouldn't look at me.
The silence pressed in. My hands felt too big, my voice too loud. For a moment, I didn't know what the hell I was doing.
But then I saw it—just a flicker.
The way her shoulders trembled.
Not like she was cold.
Like she was scared.
Of me.
"Hey, I'm not—"I stopped. What was I going to say? I'm not going to hurt you? That was a lie. Not with fists. But with words. With the months of pushing her down just to feel something.
I reached for the desk between us—slow. Like I was approaching a wounded animal.
Her breath hitched.That sound—it cracked something.
She looked up, finally.
Her eyes were glassy, wide, like she was staring at a ghost. And the worst part?
I was the ghost.
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I couldn't even apologize. Not in a way that would fix this. Not when she looked at me like I was still the monster under her bed.
I stepped back.
"Forget it," I muttered.
I turned, hands clenched, throat tight with something I didn't know how to name.
And this time, I didn't look back.
But I heard it.
Just barely—her breath, broken and quiet.
I'd been waiting for her to speak for months.
And now that she was silent—I couldn't stand the sound.