DAVIS – POV
The city lights blurred through the rain-streaked windows as the car pulled into the driveway of White Mansion. Nakia rested her head against the side window, her breath steady now, her body limp with sleep and exhaustion. I sat still for a moment, just watching her—wet hair clinging to her cheek, a subtle tremble still in her hands.
She looked fragile, like a memory about to disappear.
I couldn't wake her, not like this. So I stepped out and went to her side, carefully opening the door. My arms slid beneath her effortlessly, and I lifted her up in bridal style. Her head gently rested against my shoulder as I carried her up the stone steps.
"Good evening, Young Master," Mr. Wen, the head butler, greeted me at the entrance, eyes briefly falling on the sleeping girl in my arms.
I gave him a short nod. "Mr. Wen, please prepare the guest house for her stay."
"Yes, Young Master," he replied with his usual composure, and disappeared with quiet efficiency.
The mansion was silent, save for the soft thud of my shoes against the polished marble. I made my way to the guest room on the first floor, the one with warm lighting and softer sheets—she needed comfort.
As I laid her on the bed, her body shifted slightly, and I hesitated. Her delicate hand rested near my shoulder. As I tried to withdraw mine from beneath her neck, she groaned softly, the sound a fragile thread of her pain surfacing.
I froze.
She might wake up. She might find us in a position I had no intention of abusing. But she didn't open her eyes—only furrowed her brow and clenched her fists, as if warding off a nightmare.
I gently caressed her cheek and then her forehead, her skin still damp and cold. I leaned down and pressed a light kiss there, intending to leave—until her hand suddenly gripped mine tightly.
"Please… don't leave me alone," she whispered. "I need you…"
Her voice—it shattered something inside me. There was raw desperation in it. Not the kind that asked for comfort out of weakness, but a kind that's carried sorrow for far too long and finally cracked.
I moved closer, my forehead nearly touching hers. "I will never leave you alone," I whispered, fingers brushing her hair behind her ear.
A calm washed over her face, as if my words had seeped into her very soul. Then, in one movement, she pulled me into her arms and held on like I was the only anchor she had. Her body trembled against mine, and I couldn't bring myself to pull away.
The scent of vanilla in her hair overwhelmed my senses. Her breath on my neck made my skin shiver with an emotion I hadn't felt in years—something dangerous, something addictive.
I should've moved. But I didn't.
My mind was at war—was this feeling for Nakia… or was it for the girl she reminded me of? That same warmth, that same fire. It was haunting me. Was it her?
I didn't know.
But in that moment, I held her gently and let her sleep.
---
KEIFER – POV
Sunlight peeked through the sheer curtains, brushing gently over my face. I stirred, slowly registering the soft mattress beneath me—the warmth beside me.
My eyes shot open.
Davis was there.
Lying beside me.
I blinked, confusion flooding me. I hadn't meant to fall asleep here… had I invited him in? I looked down and gasped internally. My hand… it was tightly interlaced with his.
Red marks bruised his fingers where I must have held him all night. Had I clung to him in my sleep?
Panic rose in my chest, but before I could say a word, he stirred beside me and groaned softly.
I quickly turned my back to him and shut my eyes, pretending to sleep.
I couldn't face him yet—not like this.
Then I felt his body shift behind me. The space between us vanished, and his chest gently brushed against my back. I sucked in a breath, my body shivering involuntarily.
His warmth wrapped around me like a shield, but it was the tension between us that made my heart pound.
What was this feeling?
---
DAVIS – POV
I opened my eyes slowly. She was awake—I could tell by her breathing. But she was pretending to sleep, lying stiffly with her back to me.
I smiled faintly.
She was embarrassed. I could feel the heat radiating from her skin even without seeing her face. So I leaned in slightly, just enough that my chest touched her back, letting the curve of my arm rest above her waist.
She shivered again.
Every tiny movement of hers was imprinting itself deeper into me. Her scent, her energy, her silent vulnerability—it stirred memories I couldn't place.
She was like her. So much like her.
But no matter how hard I tried to remember, the image slipped away like mist through my fingers.
Why… why can't I remember?
Why does my heart ache like it already knows her, like it's been waiting for her return?
I pulled away gently, not wanting to push her further into discomfort. I stood, took one last look at her, and quietly left the room.
---
KEIFER – POV
I waited until I heard the door close. Only then did I slowly turn back, eyes stinging.
Why does it hurt so much when he leaves the room?
Why did it feel… safe, lying next to him?
And most of all—why does a part of me not want to let go of his hand, even now?