Sam was asleep.
The kind you learned to take when sleep wasn't optional. When staying awake only caused problems.
The knock came out of nowhere. Quiet. Controlled. Definitely not an accident.
He woke the instant it sounded.
His body lagged a half-second behind his thoughts.
Sam sat still for a moment, listening.
Another knock followed. Just as quiet. Just as controlled.
That was enough.
He reached outward, just enough to get a read.
Tight focus. Contained. No panic. No hesitation.
Resolve.
And underneath it, something that didn't match the posture. Strain. The kind people tried to keep buried when they were used to being in control.
Rias.
Sam crossed the room and opened the door.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Their eyes flicked downward at the same time.
She was dressed for bed, the nightgown soft and low-cut enough that Sam noticed without trying. The way it framed her chest pulled his attention down on instinct.
He looked back up—
And realized her eyes hadn't moved.
They were still on him.
It clicked a beat later why.
He was shirtless.
Rias caught herself then, her gaze snapping back up, color touching her cheeks before she smoothed it away.
A small smile followed. Subtle. Satisfied.
Like she knew the first step had already worked.
"Sorry," she said quietly. "Did I wake you?"
"Yes," Sam said. "But I wake easy."
She stepped inside without waiting.
Rias passed close enough that the fabric of her nightgown brushed his bare arm. Sam shifted aside on instinct before he realized he was doing it.
He reached back and closed the door.
When he turned, she was already there.
The room suddenly felt too small for what she brought into it.
Not touching.
But close.
Close enough that his personal space was gone. Close enough that his body reacted before his mind finished catching up.
That was deliberate.
She leaned in closer.
The pull was there. Not overwhelming. Just real.
Sam steadied his breathing.
Then his voice cut through the charged quiet.
"Rias."
She paused.
"Stop."
The word froze the tension in the air. Froze her with it.
Sam stepped back toward the door, taking back the space she'd intruded on.
"That's not okay," he said.
Confusion crossed her face, then something like realization.
"I'm not saying no to you," Sam said. "I'm saying no to that."
He watched her face, giving her a moment to process it.
"You can't just do this to me," he continued. "I'm a guy. I might be a gentleman, but I'm still a man. If you push like that, you don't get to act surprised when I react."
Rias stared at him, like he'd just rewritten the rules she'd walked in with.
"Oh."
The sound was quiet. Small. Disappointed—before she caught herself.
She stepped back immediately. Adjusted the nightgown, tugging the fabric higher, looking a lot more presentable. Less intentional. More like she'd just woken up instead of walked in with a plan.
"I understand," she said softly.
The tension shifted. Whatever playful edge it had vanished.
Rias straightened, the flirtation gone. What was left felt careful.
She looked at him for a second, like she was deciding whether to trust him with what came next.
"There's something I need," she said quietly. "And I might need your help."
Sam listened, realizing she was about to say the real reason she'd come.
"If I asked you for it," she continued, "would you help me?"
"Yes."
Something in her expression loosened when he answered right away. She hadn't expected the yes to come that fast.
"It matters," she said. "It's soon. And I don't want to do it."
She paused, like she was choosing her words carefully.
"I haven't talked to my peerage about it yet. Not like this."
The tension in the room shifted again.
Not lighter. Just… different.
Sam could feel it settling, like whatever she'd needed to say had finally been said. Her emotions steadied, the edge pulling back. The conversation felt like it was winding down.
He relaxed a fraction, already expecting the night to end there.
"Can I just… sit here for a bit?" she asked.
That wasn't what he'd expected.
Sam took a moment, weighing it against what he felt from her. No pressure. No intent. Just a quiet need to not be alone yet.
He nodded.
They settled on the edge of the bed. Both careful not to touch, but close enough that he could feel her there anyway—body heat, presence, the faint shift of weight whenever she moved.
They didn't talk.
Sam looked at the wall, eyes unfocused, letting his thoughts run where they wanted. How soon. What she might ask for. What "help" was actually going to mean when she finally said it out loud.
Beside him, he felt her posture slowly unwind.
Minutes passed.
Her head tipped against his shoulder, light at first, then heavier. The weight settled in a way that didn't fake itself. Even without reaching outward, he could tell—she was asleep.
Sam glanced down at her, then away.
She hadn't meant to fall asleep here.
He exhaled quietly. "I need sleep too," he muttered.
Carefully, he shifted, slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. She stirred just enough to lean into it, then went slack again.
He carried her down the hall without rushing.
In her room, he eased her onto the bed, adjusted the blanket so it wouldn't slip, made sure she was settled before stepping back.
He looked at her once more.
Sleeping, she looked like a normal girl.
Sam turned and left, closing the door as quietly as he'd opened it.
Rias woke mid-move to her room.
She didn't move—too embarrassed by the realization that she was being carried like this, and far too comfortable to tell Sam to stop.
She kept her breathing even.
I fell asleep.
That was worse than the embarrassment.
She remembered sitting down. The quiet he'd let linger.
She hadn't meant for that to happen.
The movement slowed. He adjusted his grip, and she realized—uncomfortably—that she felt safe in his arms.
Her heart kicked harder.
The mattress shifted beneath her as he set her down.
She felt the blanket pulled up over her, covering her properly.
His hands didn't linger.
He could have taken advantage. Why was he being careful?
Footsteps moved away.
The door clicked softly as it was shut.
Rias waited a few seconds before opening her eyes.
She stared at the ceiling, then sat up abruptly, clutching the blanket to her chest.
I actually fell asleep in his room.
Dressed like this.
Heat rushed to her face. She pressed her palms against her eyes.
What is wrong with me?
She got up and paced, smoothing her nightgown as if that could undo anything.
She hadn't gone there to rest.
She'd gone there with intent. With a plan. To see if pushing would work.
It had.
Just not the way she expected.
She leaned her hands against the edge of the bed and took a steady breath.
He hadn't taken advantage.
He hadn't pushed back either.
He'd just stopped me. Asked for honesty. Said yes when I asked for help.
That was the part she couldn't quite figure out.
She forced her thoughts back into order.
Tomorrow would be worse. Riser. The engagement. The conversation I can't avoid.
But I took the first step.
And it mattered.
Her eyes went to the door.
System Notice
Rias Gremory – Affection: +2
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P*treon.com/Alex_DLC000 for earlier chapters!