Akhile didn't remember deciding to go to him.
One moment she was standing in her apartment doorway, listening to the estate behave strangely, with no soft reminders, and no manufactured feelings- the next she was walking down the corridor like her feet already knew the way.
The motion lights stayed on. For a moment, she stood in the dark listening to her own breathing, loud enough to feel humiliating.
Akhile's head weighed a ton, as if rocks had collected inside of it. She kept walking anyway, not to the library. Not tonight.
Not to Norman's wing either. The idea of him tugged at something inside her chest that didn't feel hers entirely.
The west wing appeared too quickly.
Nathaniel's door slid open before she knocked. He was standing there like he'd been waiting for her.
He was not wearing a suit and tie, no crisp white shirt, no hair slicked back. Just a man in his living quarters wearing some house slippers. The kind of incompleteness that showed his other side.
Nathaniel's gaze swept over her once. He assessed her hurriedly before it landed on her face.
"Princess Cora, you're awake," he said.
"So are you," she replied, antagonistic by default.
Nathaniel stepped aside.
"Come in."
Akhile hesitated. He didn't reach out for her hand. He didn't do anything that would make it easy to call him a villain or controlling.
He just waited.
That was worse, because waiting made it feel like her choice. Nathaniel had never given her options.
She stepped inside.
His wing smelled like rosemary, and metal, the faintest trace of cigarette smoke clinging to fabric. Akhile had never seen Nathaniel smoke, he must have smoked in isolation.
His apartment was colder than hers, and it did not have a lot going on. No simulated stars in the ceiling, no background music, no intercom suggestions. As Tobias had said when she first arrived, the system conforms to your personality.
Nathaniel closed the door with a soft seal.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice deep and domineering, filling the silence inside the apartment.
Akhile lifted her chin. She sighed nervously, "I don't even know how I got here."
"That's not answering my question."
She hated that he could always read her.
"Well, Nathaniel, I don't know for sure. I don't know why I am here," she admitted. Her tone sounded a bit irritated, because an admission in your thoughts plays differently when said out loud.
Nathaniel's gaze softened in the smallest way, his lips pursed into a grin. He gave a nod. "Okay…sit."
Akhile did not move, as if her feet and freewill were glued to the floor.
He didn't repeat himself. He only kept his gaze on her, like he already knew she wouldn't obey.
That look she gave him, those olive-green eyes deepened or intensified when she was being stubborn. This was a challenge for Nathaniel, and it caused a rise in the temperature in his surroundings.
"Stop looking at me like that," she said.
"Like what?" he asked, remaining calm.
"Like you believe you know what's in my head."
Nathaniel slowly stepped closer to her. These were intentional steps, like when a predator stalks its prey, in pursuit of a chase, ready to make a catch. "You came here," he said quietly. "So, tell me..."
Akhile swallowed. Her throat tightened around the truth. "I don't want to say why I'm here," she whispered. This admission made her embarrassed; the honesty exposed her.
Nathaniel's gaze dropped to her mouth for a second. Akhile noticed this. He saw her notice this.
The air thickened, and it became hard to breathe.
Akhile spoke too fast. "I… had a dream."
Nathaniel didn't ask what it was.
That usually would have irritated her. Instead, it threw her off balance, like he already knew about the dream, which she obviously did not come to his apartment to discuss.
"Are you afraid?" he asked instinctively, for she may have been worried about the information he shared earlier. The Redcliff inheritance.
"No," she said too quickly.
Nathaniel's eyes held hers. "Then why are you shaking?" he asked softly.
Akhile's breathing stalled. Her body betrayed her again. She hadn't noticed that she was shivering, covered in goosebumps.
"Because you're standing too close," she murmured.
Nathaniel didn't pull back. He lifted his hand, trying not to touch her yet, just having it hover near her face, stalking his prey, luring her attraction.
Akhile's skin was almost breathing, held in anticipation, ready for him to pounce.
"Nathaniel," she warned.
He paused, his gaze still locked on her face. "Do you want me to stop?" he said quietly.
Akhile shook her head no, her body pressed hard against the wall, entrapped by his deep orange eyes. She pressed her back harder against the wall, as if trying to keep him in an airlock a while longer.
But he couldn't resist her, and he broke through the tiny vacuum between them. Nathaniel's hand found her jaw and, gently guiding her face up, brushed near the corner of her mouth with his thumb.
Akhile lost all feeling in her limbs, her knees about to buckle. She pushed harder against the wall, hoping it would keep her anchored on her feet.
Her breathing had accelerated as she was taking air in gulps, trying not pass out. "You don't get to—" she started. She wanted to say he can't touch her face without her permission.
Nathaniel leaned in this time with his face, his other hand placed on the wall, just above her head, pausing just a breath away.
"Finish your sentence," he commanded.
Akhile couldn't obey. She had lost her words. She didn't want him to pull away.
Nathaniel waited one more instant still, controlling himself, preventing the missteps, asking for her permission in silence.
Akhile exhaled and closed the last inch herself.
Their lips met as a result of this last inch. The key matched the lock, and there was a perfect fusion of mouth-to-mouth.
Akhile's fingers curled into his shirt gently, finally feeling the body structure of a man. Nathaniel kissed her harder like he had been starving in his solitary pursuits, like restraint was a decision he had been forced into.
A moment later, he pulled back, just enough to look at her, to verify that this wasn't a dream, and lastly, to catch his breath.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered.
Akhile stared at him, his lips swollen, his eyes brighter, some of his red hair dangling over his forehead.
"No," she said.
Nathaniel's jaw flexed, and he kissed her again, deeper.
It would seem whenever she was disobedient or antagonistic, or stubborn…whenever she refused to do as she was told, it made him burn for her even more. He wanted to be closer to her, within her, forever.
His hand slid below her waist, drawing her closer. The heat of his palm burned through fabric, sticking to her robe. Akhile felt pinned and protected at the same time, and it made her furious at herself for wanting it. There wasn't a need for the walls to support her any longer.
Nathaniel broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.
"Why are you shaking?" he breathed.
"I'm not," she lied.
He didn't argue. He kissed her jaw, trailing his lips down to her throat, slowly and reverently enough to make her knees begin to buckle again.
Akhile's fingers brushed into his hair.
That was the moment he took time to evaluate her. Nathaniel lifted his head, his eyes had darkened.
"Cora," he started. "If we keep going…you know…"
Akhile swallowed, her pulse a wonderful thunder.
"Keep going," she breathed.
Nathaniel stared at her like something inside him broke and re-formed in the same breath.
He lifted her with an ease that stole her breath and turned her so her back reunited with the wall again. Just sudden enough to make her gasp.
His mouth found hers again, harder.
Akhile let out a soft moan she didn't recognise as her own.
Nathaniel froze instantly.
He stopped kissing her, eyes searching hers, another assessment.
"Tell me to stop if you don't want this," he said again, voice rough, as if the restraint was almost choking him.
Akhile's grip tightened on his shoulders.
"Don't stop," she whispered.
The world was small.
Nathaniel exhaled, then he kissed her some more, slower, like he was trying to memorise her rather than take her.
Somewhere in the estate, the lights dimmed down, conserving their energy.
The air pressure shifted.
Akhile's temples pulsed, and her vision blurred for half a second, as if the world tried to swap her out, but she centred herself immediately.
Nathaniel felt it too. He paused immediately, hands tightening around her waist.
"Look at me," he said sharply.
Akhile blinked, facing away from him.
His thumb pressed against her waist, right above her navel.
"I want you to stay," he said, softer now.
"Okay," she whispered.
Nathaniel held her as if he could keep her anchored by force of will.
Then, without another word, he took her hand and guided her toward the bedroom.
He was not dragging her, Akhile allowed him, and she followed behind him.
Because for the first time in a long time, she wanted to stop overthinking.
The door closed behind them, and the system turned the lights off, conforming to his wishes.
The night swallowed the rest.