The soft hum of the office air conditioner was the only sound accompanying Lila's frantic typing. Her fingers ached, but she refused to stop. The presentation was nearly finished, and her body screamed for rest. Just as she leaned back to stretch, the office door creaked open.
Astor.
He stood there silently, his frame casting a shadow long and heavy against the carpet. His tie hung loosely around his neck, hair messier than usual, eyes darker than night.
"Aren't you tired?" he asked, voice low, intimate. The concern laced in his words caught her off guard.
"I'm fine. Almost done," Lila replied, trying to mask the tremor in her voice.
Astor walked in slowly, closing the door behind him with a soft click. "You shouldn't have to work so late, Lila," he murmured, stepping closer. "Especially not alone."
She looked up at him, her breath hitching when she saw the way his eyes roamed her—slow, devouring, as if she were a secret he wanted to taste again and again.
"Lila..." he said her name like it hurt. "I'm sorry about earlier. The car... I didn't see you. I was chasing someone and—" His voice cracked. "When I saw you on the ground... I thought I might lose my mind."
His hand reached out, trembling slightly as it brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't know what you do to me."
Then, without another word, he bent down and kissed her.
Not soft. Not hesitant.
It was wild—possessive.
His lips claimed hers with a hunger he couldn't control. One arm wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her flush against him, while his other hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head just how he needed. The taste of her—sweet, like sin—sent fire through his veins.
Lila gasped into his mouth, hands pressing against his chest, but he deepened the kiss, growling slowly when her body gave the slightest response. His thigh nudged between hers, mouth trailing from her lips down to her neck. "You drive me crazy, Lila. Don't you see? I want you. All of you."
"Stop... please," she whispered, trying to catch her breath. "You can't—"
But he didn't stop until her voice cracked in desperation. Then, slowly, reluctantly, he pulled away, panting, eyes dark with restraint and frustration.
"I'm not a monster," he said, jaw clenched. "But with you... I don't know how to be gentle."
Lila was trembling. She didn't know what was more dangerous—the way he touched her or the way her body responded. She could still feel the heat of his mouth on her skin, the intensity in his words echoing in her chest.
"Go," she whispered. "Just go."
He hesitated. Then turned, stormed out, leaving the room charged with something electric and unresolved.
Meanwhile, back at the Damaris household...
Earlier that night, Nico had made Lila hot cocoa, waiting on the couch for her to return. But sleep crept up on him, and when he couldn't fight it anymore, he wandered into her room, intending just to wait for her.
He lay on her bed—just for a moment.
But her scent on the sheets, the memory of her soft laugh from earlier, the quiet of the room... lulled him into sleep.
He never meant to stay.
When Lila came home the next day, she would find Nico still asleep, curled on her bed like he belonged there.
Like he'd always belonged there.
After Astor stormed out, the office felt colder. Lila sat frozen in her chair, her lips still tingling from his kiss, her chest heaving as she tried to make sense of the whirlwind.
She hated him.
She wanted him.
And that made her hate herself even more.
She shoved the laptop closed and grabbed her bag, needing air—space—anything that wasn't suffocating like Astor's presence.
By the time she reached home, the house was dark, save for the soft flicker of the television in the living room. As she stepped in, she noticed a blanket thrown over the couch, a half-empty cocoa mug on the table, and then—
Her bedroom door is slightly ajar.
Confused, she pushed it open, and her breath caught.
Nico.
Fast asleep on her bed, his face soft, lips parted slightly, the light from the hallway casting gentle shadows across his jawline. His shirt had ridden up a little, revealing a line of bare skin above his waistband. His hair was messy, as though he'd been tossing and turning, and his hand was curled where her pillow lay.
She stepped in slowly, the floor creaking under her weight. He stirred, eyes blinking open in slow confusion.
"Lila...?" he murmured, groggy and adorably clueless. "I was waiting. I didn't mean to—"
"It's okay," she whispered, trying not to smile. "You just... fell asleep?"
He rubbed his eyes, sitting up. "Yeah. I was going to wait on the couch but... I guess I missed you."
There was something about the way he said it that made her chest flutter.
"I should go," he added quickly, realizing where he was.
But before he could get up, she sat beside him. "It's fine, Nico. I'm too tired to care. Just... stay. It's late."
He stared at her, searching her face for permission. "You sure?"
Lila nodded, lying back, pulling the blanket over her. "Just no snoring."
Nico chuckled softly and lay beside her—back to back, not touching, but close enough to feel the warmth.
They didn't speak another word.
But neither of them slept easily.
The next morning...
A scream echoed through the room.
Lila bolted upright, nearly headbutting Nico, who yelped and fell off the bed in a tangle of sheets.
"What the hell?" she shouted.
"Damn! Sorry! I—I forgot where I was!"
They both stared at each other, breathing hard, eyes wide.
And then—burst into laughter.
"I swear, I didn't do anything," Nico said, hands raised in surrender. "I just... I was cold and the bed was warm. That's all."
Lila shook her head, still laughing. "You're unbelievable."
"So I've been told," he grinned.
They went on with their day, pretending everything was normal—but neither could quite forget the comfort of the night before.
Later that morning, at the office...
Lila was back at her desk, trying to focus when a message popped up.
Astor: "We need to talk. My office. Now."
She sighed, rolled her eyes, and stood up.
As she entered his office, he was standing by the window, looking out at the city like it owed him something.
"You called, boss?" she said, folding her arms.
He turned. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes? They burned with something raw.
"You okay?" he asked, tone softer than expected.
"I'm fine," she said. "Why?"
"I saw you leave last night. You looked like you were running away."
"Maybe I was."
He stepped closer. "From me?"
Lila didn't answer.
"I'm sorry," he said again, and this time it felt real—vulnerable. "Not just about the car. About everything. The way I act around you. I can't seem to... help it. You make me feel things I've never felt before. And I don't know what to do with that."
There was silence. Heavy. Charged.
Lila looked at him, and her voice barely rose above a whisper. "Then maybe try... not hurting me."
Astor blinked. As if the thought had never crossed his mind.
Then, with a pained smile, he nodded. "I'll try."
"I'll try."
There was another pause. Softer now. The tension between them is still thick, but slowly shifting into something else.
Lila inhaled, unsure for a moment, then looked up at him through her lashes. "Then... would you like to go out with me today?"
Astor blinked, stunned. "You're asking me out?"
She gave a half-smile. "Don't make it a big deal. I just... I want to spend time with you. The real you. Not the man who shows up uninvited and drives me crazy—but the one who says sorry like he means it."
He stared at her for a long second before his lips curled into something close to a grin. "Then yes," he said, voice low, warm. "Absolutely yes."
They shared a soft, charged smile. Then, wordlessly, they returned to their desks. But the air had changed. Something new had bloomed between them—something delicate, unexpected, fragile.
Later that noon [Background song: Talk talk featuring troye sivan by charlie xcx]
They met outside the office. It wasn't a fancy restaurant or an elaborate plan. Just two people, walking down the street side by side, plastic containers of takeout in hand, laughter dancing between them like an invisible thread.
"You eat like a squirrel," Astor said as Lila tried to pinch her fries two at a time with chopsticks.
"Better than watching you shovel food like you're in a war zone," she shot back.
He laughed—deep, full-bodied—and for a moment, she forgot the chaos he usually brought into her life.
Halfway through lunch, his voice turned quiet. "Lila... What really happened? The blood that day... you froze. Was it just the fall?"
She swallowed. Hard. And set her fork down.
"No," she said softly. "It wasn't just the fall."
And then, she told him.
About her father—Gabrielle Clark. The abuse. The bruises that faded, but never really left. About Ken—her brother. The only good thing she had in that house, until her father took even that away. And how one day, Gabrielle never came back home. Because he was dead.A car accident.
Astor didn't speak. He just reached out and pulled her into his arms, pressing her against his chest.
"You can cry," he murmured. "It's okay."
And she did.
Not because she was weak, but because she was finally safe enough to.
Later[Background song: Talk talk featuring troye sivan by charlie xcx]
They found themselves near the riverside. The sun dipped low, golden light kissing the water, painting everything in slow honeyed hues.
Lila sniffled, looking out at the current. "What about you? Your family?"
He sighed. "My mom was Romanella Grace. My dad—Roman Alexander. They died in an accident. Car crash. I was eighteen. I survived. They didn't."
She reached over and gently squeezed his hand.
They sat like that for a while. Quiet. Not needing words.
Eventually, they picked up food from a small street vendor—hot buns and spiced noodles—and wandered through a nearby park. They played silly games at an old amusement park, rode the Ferris wheel, and Astor, for the first time in a long while, laughed like a boy who hadn't been broken.
"You know," he said, glancing at her while they shared cotton candy, "no one's ever made me laugh like this. Not in years."
She met his eyes, sincere. "Maybe it's because no one's ever seen this version of you."
When night draped over the city, the air turned cooler, but they didn't want to say goodbye.
In the car, as he drove her home, their hands found each other's—fingers brushing, then entwining.
And then it happened.
The kiss.
Soft at first. Just a graze of lips. But it deepened, emotions spilling, unspoken things pouring out between kisses.
Lila pulled back, breathless, cheeks flushed. "Astor..."
But instead of stopping, she leaned in again. She climbed onto his lap, straddling him in the dim privacy of the parked car. His hands explored her body—gentle, yet filled with a quiet hunger. His mouth found her neck, her collarbone. She gasped when he slid a hand beneath her shirt, fingers teasing, trailing over skin.
His voice was thick. "Tell me to stop... and I will."
But she didn't.
Not yet.
Until something flickered in her chest. A hesitation. A reality check.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, pulling away suddenly. Her body is still burning, heart pounding. "I—I don't know what I'm doing."
He didn't get angry. He didn't even move. He just chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You don't have to explain."
She opened the door and climbed out quickly, cheeks on fire. "Goodnight."
"Lila," he called, just before she shut the door.
She paused.
"I had a great time. Thanks for everything."
She smiled without turning around. "Me, too."
Later that night
At home, Lila lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her mind replayed every moment—his laugh, his touch, that kiss. She pulled the covers to her chin, cheeks still warm.
What just happened?
Before she could spiral, her phone dinged.
Email from Nico:
"Hey, I've been thinking. Let's spend the whole weekend together. Just us—like siblings should. Morning till night. Also, my friends are coming to the bar tomorrow. You in?"
Lila grinned and typed back:
"I'm in. See you tomorrow."