The morning light spilled through the tall windows, golden and warm, yet Elena felt none of its comfort. Her lips still tingled from Adrian's kiss, her body betraying her with the memory of his touch. Even now, hours later, her heart pounded as though his arms were still around her.
But Damian's voice lingered too—steady, pleading, pulling her toward a different kind of warmth.
"Elena," he had said, like her name was a prayer. Like he could save her from the darkness that shadowed her every step.
And maybe he could. Or maybe she only wanted to believe he could.
She found Damian waiting for her that afternoon at the campus café, sitting by the window with a cup of coffee in front of him. His posture was calm, composed, but his eyes lit up the moment they found hers.
"Elena," he said softly, standing as she approached.
She hesitated before sitting across from him. The familiar warmth of his presence wrapped around her, bringing with it a flood of memories: late-night study sessions, shared laughter in the library, the sense of safety she once thought she'd never lose.
"You didn't come home last night," Damian said after a pause, his voice careful. Too careful.
Her throat tightened. "I was… busy."
"With him."
It wasn't a question.
Elena's fingers clenched around her coffee cup. "Damian—"
"I'm not judging," he interrupted quickly, his smile strained but still there. "I just… worry about you. He's dangerous, Elena. You know that, don't you?"
Her heart skipped, because she did know. But she also knew that Adrian's danger was exactly what made her feel alive.
"He won't hurt me," she whispered.
Damian's smile faltered, his eyes darkening in a way she'd never seen before. "You don't know that."
The edge in his tone startled her. Damian had always been the calm one, the patient one. Yet here, for the first time, she saw something sharper—possession flickering beneath the sunlight he wore so well.
Later that evening, he insisted on walking her home. The streets glowed with lamplight, the air crisp with the promise of rain. For a while, they walked in silence.
Then Damian broke it. "Do you remember our last year together at school? Before you… drifted away?"
Elena nodded, unsure where this was going.
"You always used to sit by the window in class," he said, his voice softer now. "Your hair would catch the sunlight. I told myself back then that one day, I'd sit across from you forever."
Her chest tightened. It was a beautiful memory. But the way his hand brushed hers, lingering too long, made her uneasy.
"Damian…" she began.
"I won't let him take that from me," Damian said suddenly, his voice low, intense. "I won't let Adrian destroy you."
The words froze her mid-step. There was no gentleness in his tone now, only iron.
"Damian, you're scaring me."
Instantly, his expression softened, his smile returning like the sun breaking through clouds. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just… care too much."
But the damage was done. For the first time, Elena saw a shadow behind his smile.
When she entered her apartment later that night, Adrian was already there, leaning lazily against her kitchen counter as though he owned the place.
"You let him walk you home," Adrian said without looking up, his voice calm but threaded with steel.
Elena bristled. "Are you spying on me?"
He finally lifted his gaze, and the weight of it made her pulse stumble. "I don't need to spy. I feel it. The way he looks at you."
Her lips parted, but she found no words.
Adrian pushed off the counter, closing the distance between them in two slow, deliberate steps. "You think he's light," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But light can blind you, Elena. And when it burns too bright, it leaves nothing but ash."
His touch sent fire racing across her skin, and despite herself, she leaned into it.
"Adrian…"
He bent closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Choose carefully. Because if he tries to take you from me… I won't be merciful."
Her breath caught, her heart torn between fear and a forbidden thrill. For all his darkness, Adrian made her feel alive in a way Damian never could. And yet, the thought of losing Damian—the boy she once trusted, the friend she once leaned on—felt like tearing away a piece of herself.
Two men. Two worlds. And she stood in the center, the storm closing in around her.
That night, as Elena lay awake, Damian's voice echoed in her mind: I won't let him take that from me.
And for the first time, she wondered—was Damian truly her salvation, or was he just another form of danger dressed in sunlight?