The apartment was quiet. The city lights outside cast soft, flickering patterns across the minimalist walls, but inside, Grayson's thoughts were anything but calm. He sat rigidly on the couch, Ava's steady breathing against his chest echoing in his ears, and tried to focus on anything—anything—other than the pull he felt every time he looked at her.
Ava had fallen asleep almost instantly, her small body curling closer to his, and he couldn't deny the familiar tug in his chest. She looked so… fragile, so undeniably human,he feel like to take her inside the room and bend her over and yet there was something defiant in her even in sleep—a spark he knew had survived every hardship life had thrown at her.
He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly as if the motion could ground him. Control, he reminded himself. This is your friend's daughter. She's family. Nothing else.She is the same girl you raise but can he for goodness!
But the moment his mind wandered to what it meant to hold her like this,to feel her close to him and teach her bad things,to be this close… he had to fight it back. He shifted slightly, just enough so she didn't feel him twitching, and silently cursed himself.
"Damn it…" he muttered under his breath, more to the empty room than anyone else. His heart raced in a way it hadn't in years, a mixture of frustration, protectiveness, and… something he couldn't name.
Ava stirred slightly, murmuring in her sleep. Grayson's hand froze mid-motion, unsure if he should pull away or stay. Her fingers flexed against his shirt, instinctively seeking warmth. He swallowed hard and forced himself to stay still, pretending it was just a normal, quiet night. But he knew better. Every second she's here, I have to fight the part of me that wants to do more than just protect her.
He shifted again, this time just enough to place a blanket over her, and then he saw her shirt shift a little bit and his eyes saw her flat tommy he felt like taking her over tonight but he delete the thought and start tucking the blanket gently around her small frame. Even in sleep, she made him feel like he was walking a razor's edge—one wrong move, one thought, and he'd be lost in something he could never allow.
He leaned back against the couch, eyes scanning the apartment. The walls were sparse, modern, yet intimate. He had deliberately kept it simple—minimal distractions, safe for someone like her who needed stability, not the chaos of his world. And yet, as he watched her chest rise and fall, he realized that none of this would ever be enough to keep him calm.
The truth hit him like a punch to the gut: he wanted to be near her. Not just as her guardian or friend, but close enough to feel every heartbeat, to watch every subtle expression, to be the one she trusted even when the world was against her.
He shook his head, muttering, "No. Stop. You're insane."
Ava shifted again, murmuring something unintelligible. He leaned forward, resting his chin against the back of his hand. She's a puzzle I've spent years avoiding, and now she's awake in my life again, demanding attention just by existing.
The apartment door clicked quietly—someone had left it unlocked earlier, and it now swung slightly with a faint draft. Grayson's eyes snapped to it immediately. His protective instincts flared. Even in the quietest moments, danger was always lurking in the periphery of his life.
He stood, moving with a predator's silent grace, and checked the hallway before returning. Ava had stirred again, mumbling something about chocolate, her small voice breaking the tension for a moment. He smiled faintly despite himself.
"You're still a chatterbox even in your sleep," he whispered, crouching beside the couch to gently adjust the blanket again. Her lashes brushed against her cheeks, and for a second, Grayson felt the sharp ache of wanting something he couldn't allow himself to have.
He exhaled slowly, trying to let reason regain control. "This is wrong. Completely wrong."
But wrong didn't erase the warmth in her little hands against him, the quiet trust she placed in him. It didn't erase the sharp pang in his chest when she smiled even slightly in her sleep.
For the first time in years, Grayson realized that being near her was not enough. He wanted to protect her from everything—the world, her enemies, even her own reckless impulses—but he also wanted to be the one she leaned on when she was scared, tired, or hurt.
And that… that was dangerous.
He leaned back again, letting her rest, but his mind refused to settle. Every detail, every sound, every slight movement she made, was seared into his consciousness. He couldn't stop analyzing, couldn't stop thinking, couldn't stop caring.
Hours passed, and the city outside shifted from night to early dawn. Grayson remained awake, watching over her silently, every thought a battle between what he could allow himself to feel and what he couldn't.
Because deep down, he knew this: Ava was no longer the little girl he once knew. She was growing into a force, unpredictable, fiery, and intelligent. And no matter how much he tried to maintain distance, part of him wanted nothing more than to be her anchor.
God help me, he whispered to the empty room, gripping the edge of the couch. I've raised myself to be unshakable… but this little kitten? She's already undone me.
And somewhere in the quiet apartment, with the city still asleep outside, Grayson realized he would do anything to keep her safe—even if it meant keeping his own desires locked away forever.