Adrian was sitting on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on the fragile rhythm of Lila's breathing. She had fallen asleep quickly, exhaustion pulling her under, her face softening as though the weight of the world had finally lifted from her shoulders. Something in that quietness struck him—it was unfamiliar yet soothing. He leaned back slightly, his thoughts circling the same question that had been clawing at him all evening. How could she, of all people, make him sleep?
Sleep was a stranger to Adrian Wolfe. Even as a boy, his nights had been restless, his mind plagued by thoughts that refused to still. He had tried every method—pills, therapy, endless work, and even indulgent distractions—but nothing had ever given him peace. Yet, here he was, sitting beside a woman who seemed to bring silence to his storm without effort. The thought unsettled him, and for the first time in a long time, curiosity gnawed at him more than control.
He adjusted the blanket over her, tucking it gently around her shoulders, a gesture he never thought he would do for anyone. His hand lingered for a moment, hovering near her hair, but he pulled it back before he allowed himself to cross a boundary he wasn't ready to name. He sat back on the other side of the bed, still watching her, his mind heavy with wonder.
Minutes bled into an hour, and his eyelids, though stubborn, began to droop. He resisted at first, certain he could push through, but the pull was undeniable. The more he fought, the more the thought whispered inside him: She did this. She makes me rest.
And then, without realizing when exactly it happened, Adrian drifted into the kind of slumber he had not tasted in years. His body loosened, his breathing steadied, and unconsciously, his arm reached across the bed and wrapped around her slender frame, holding her close as though she was the anchor he had been missing.
---
The sharp rap at the door jolted Lila awake. Her eyes fluttered open, the room still bathed in the gentle evening glow. For a second, she thought she was still dreaming—because she wasn't alone. Adrian's arm was wrapped firmly around her waist, his warmth pressed against her. She froze, stunned at the intimacy of the position, unsure whether to move or to stay still.
Before she could make a decision, the door creaked open.
"Oh—!" A startled gasp filled the air.
Lila's head snapped toward the doorway, and there stood Mrs. Wolfe, Adrian's stepmother, her expression painted with surprise that quickly shifted into a polite smile. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry for intruding," she said smoothly, her voice carrying just the right amount of feigned innocence. "I only came to let you both know that dinner is ready."
Her eyes flickered knowingly between them, lingering on Adrian's arm around Lila before she inclined her head and pulled the door shut.
The silence that followed was deafening. Lila could feel the heat crawling up her neck, embarrassment flooding her cheeks. She shifted slightly, her gaze turning back to the man beside her.
Adrian stirred, the movement of her body nudging him out of sleep. His lashes lifted, and his gray eyes locked onto hers in a haze of disorientation that sharpened almost immediately. He blinked, realizing what had happened—that he had not only slept but slept deeply, and with her in his arms.
Lila swallowed nervously. She reached out and tapped his shoulder gently, her voice soft. "Adrian…"
His eyes caught hers, and for a moment, the world stilled. Then, with a suddenness that stole her breath, Adrian leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.
It wasn't rough, nor was it desperate—it was unexpected, tender, and slow, as if he were testing something unfamiliar. Lila froze, her eyes widening, but before she could fully react, he pulled back, his gaze searching her face with unsettling intensity.
Her lips parted, the beginning of words forming, but Adrian spoke first, his voice low, steady, and oddly vulnerable.
"Are you feeling better now?"
The question threw her off balance. She blinked, her fingers brushing her lips unconsciously, then nodded faintly. "Yes… a little better."
He hummed in response, almost as though her answer mattered more than she realized. His gaze lingered on her a second longer before he straightened, swinging his legs over the bed. "Your mom already asked us to come over for dinner," he said. "We shouldn't keep them waiting."
---
The walk downstairs carried a weight neither of them spoke of. Lila's mind raced, replaying the kiss again and again, wondering if it had been a slip, a mistake, or something deliberate. Adrian, on the other hand, was silent, his thoughts locked tight behind his unreadable expression. Yet inside, he burned with a truth he couldn't ignore—he had slept, truly slept, because of her. And now he needed to confirm it again.
As they reached the dining hall, the grandeur of the Wolfe estate unfolded around Lila like a carefully curated play. The walls were lined with oil paintings, chandeliers cast warm glows over polished wood, and the table itself stretched long enough to host a dozen guests comfortably.
Mrs. Wolfe was already seated at the head of the table, her smile sharp but welcoming. "Ah, there you are," she said, her voice carrying subtle satisfaction. "We were beginning to wonder if you'd gotten lost."
Lila flushed lightly but offered a polite smile. Adrian, however, did not flinch. He pulled out a chair for Lila—an action so natural yet so rare for him—and waited until she sat before taking his place beside her.
Mr. Wolfe, stern and composed, sat at the far end. His sharp gaze flicked briefly between them, then settled on his plate as though nothing unusual had transpired.
Servants moved efficiently, filling glasses, placing steaming dishes on the table. Lila's fingers fidgeted in her lap until Adrian's hand stilled them with a firm but quiet gesture beneath the table. She glanced at him, startled by the contact, but he didn't look her way. His eyes were fixed forward, his presence steady, commanding.
Dinner began with small talk—Mrs. Wolfe asking pointedly about Lila's health, Mr. Wolfe offering occasional remarks, and Adrian mostly silent. Lila tried to keep her composure, answering politely, but she could feel Mrs. Wolfe's curious gaze dissecting every move she made.
"So, Lila," Mrs. Wolfe finally said, her tone light but edged with interest. "How are you finding your stay here so far?"
Lila hesitated, her fork poised halfway. "It's… different," she admitted softly. "But everyone has been very kind."
Mrs. Wolfe's smile deepened, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Good. We want you to feel at home." Her gaze flicked briefly toward Adrian, then back to Lila. "And it seems you've already made yourself quite comfortable."
The implication hung in the air, sharp and deliberate. Lila's cheeks warmed, but before she could stammer a response, Adrian's voice cut through, low and even.
"She belongs here."
The table fell into a momentary silence. Mr. Wolfe's eyes lifted slightly, Mrs. Wolfe's smile tightened, and Lila's heart skipped a beat. Adrian didn't elaborate, didn't offer explanations. He simply returned to his meal, his statement final, unquestionable.
Lila sat in stunned quiet, her thoughts spinning. What did he mean by that?
---
As the dinner carried on, conversations unfolded around them, but Adrian remained partially detached, his mind working behind the veil of his calm demeanor. Every glance he stole at Lila only confirmed the weight of his suspicion. She was different. She was the key to something he hadn't known he'd been searching for—a reprieve from the chaos inside him.
By the time the plates were cleared and dessert served, Adrian had already decided. Tonight was only the beginning. He would test it again, and again, until he was certain.
And when certainty came, there would be no letting her go.