The last thing on Lena's mind? Feeling tiny - yet that hit her the moment she walked into the Blackwood place.
The house was more than just large -
it was overwhelming.
Tall glass walls stood around her; marble floors showed her face right back. A staircase loomed ahead - something out of a film scene. The air carried a hint of cedar, then another sharper scent - not quite metal, more like wealth.
Her mom was talking near her, sounding cheerful, almost bouncing with energy.
"Lena, isn't it beautiful? Richard wanted everything perfect for our first day here."
Lena gave a small smile, yet her hand gripped the bag's strap harder.
Perfect.
Yep. Not for me - someone different.
Her mom walked off, shouting toward her new spouse, so Lena stayed behind in the huge entryway.
The quiet sat heavy on her heart.
Then came that feeling -
a figure standing at her back.
Not a sound.
Not a word.
A change in how things felt... as if a risky person had walked in.
Lena turned.
He stood at the base of the stairs, hand on the rail, wearing black like it belonged to him. Towering. Wide frame. Harsh features, gaze harder than the stone under her feet.
Damian Blackwood.
Her new stepbrother.
She'd seen photos earlier - fuzzy shots online, stiff ones at the engagement bash - yet none matched actually being near him. He took up space, sort of like a shade that just wouldn't shift.
He just walked past without a word.
He didn't smile.
He just skipped acting nice altogether.
His eyes moved across her, slow and bold, almost like he could see how fast she was breathing. Heat crept up Lena's throat; worse, her lungs froze a second - damn it. She didn't want him noticing.
"Hey," she said quietly.
Damian didn't blink.
Didn't answer.
He just looked blank, like her words hit something private he'd rather keep shut.
The quiet dragged on - thin, edgy, full of weight.
For a scary moment, it hit her - maybe he sensed what she was thinking.
She looked down, acting like she was focused on the tiles - like it didn't matter. Still, each flicker of his focus hit deep.
Lena!" Mom called out from the hall. "Hurry - there's someone you gotta see!"
Lena exhaled quick, then moved ahead - sliding past Damian sideways.
He didn't move.
Didn't step aside.
He had her move near so his arm touched hers now then.
A jolt raced along her arm - then vanished just as fast.
She gulped, moved on, yet noticed how he watched - still, shadowed, impossible to read.
---
Richard Blackwood came across as friendly, luckily. Instead of rushing off, he greeted her with a handshake and said something nice about her grin. Her mom chuckled - something she hadn't done in ages. Just then, Lena figured maybe it was okay to let go a little.
Yet she sensed Damian step inside even before spotting him.
He stayed quiet - just hung back near his dad, fingers tucked into his jeans, eyes locked on Lena like nobody else mattered.
She figured she'd just tune him out.
Failed.
Richard coughed a little to get ready to speak.
"Damian, say hello to your new stepsister."
Damian's jaw tightened.
He avoided looking at Richard.
His eyes stayed on her alone.
"Hey," he spoke after a pause, tone low and even, yet hinting at chill on purpose.
Lena gave a quick nod - her heart racing offbeat.
"Hi…"
He stared at her just a beat past normal, then a spark crossed his eyes - feelings he wasn't supposed to have. Not for her. Definitely off-limits.
Lena wasn't listening - Richard kept going on about meals, fixing up the house, work travels, yet her focus stayed locked elsewhere. The guy across the room wouldn't glance down, and that's all she noticed.
Damian didn't speak, yet that quiet held weight.
It was heavy.
Dangerous.
Watching her.
Studying her.
Craving stuff he's better off ignoring.
Each time she took a breath, his focus landed on her - tight, sudden, like fingers curling round her wrist.
---
Lena strolled through the dim hall later that night, heading to her fresh room. Instead of rushing, she paid attention to the paintings hanging around, maybe because the glow was gentle, perhaps since everything felt still.
Yet the silence felt uneasy.
It felt… watched.
She got to her door, fingers brushing the knob -
—and froze.
A shape stood by the wall opposite her door.
Damian.
He stood with arms folded, chin up a little, staring at her as if he'd expected her to show. He shouldn't have been there - no cause, nothing making sense.
"You can't find your way?" she said, so quiet it was almost silent.
"No."
He replied without waiting.
He kicked away from the wall, moving closer bit by bit - almost like he aimed to make her notice each movement.
"You're in my hallway," he murmured.
"My... your hall?" she asked, puzzled.
He halted right before her, near so she could sense his warm breath against her face.
This wing," he murmured, gaze slipping to her mouth before meeting her stare again, "belongs to me."
A chill crept up her back.
"Oh. I didn't know."
"You do now."
His voice came out sharp, yet his eyes didn't match. They held a different vibe altogether - eager, barely contained, risky.
Lena swallowed.
"I'm just trying to find my room."
He looked toward the door at her back.
"It belongs to you," he told her.
Her heart stumbled.
"You knew?"
Damian didn't answer.
He just wasn't required to.
He moved aside barely far enough for her to squeeze through - yet still kept things tense.
She ducked into her room, heart pounding, then pressed her back to the door after shutting it.
Her chest was moving up and down way quicker than normal.
She put her hand over her mouth.
She doesn't need to carry that weight.
He oughta stop staring at her that way.
They didn't really know one another.
Now they were stepsiblings.
Yet how he looked at her…
how he quietly took up room near her…
Lena was certain about just one fact:
This place felt off. It just wasn't right.
It's not about how big it is.
Not due to how quiet it is.
Yet Damian Blackwood stayed there.
Right when he spotted her…
He kept his eyes right there.