( Adrian's POV )
The office was almost empty, just the hum of the vending machine and the clock ticking above the glass partition.
Adrian leaned back in his chair, eyes on his phone screen.
No new messages.
Elena, where're you?
She'd promised to call.
It was past eleven. The city outside was quiet, but his thoughts weren't.
She should've been home by now.
He told himself to be patient.
She'd mentioned dinner with Nathan—he'd even told her to go, pretending it didn't bother him.
It did.
He promised himself he'd let her make her own decisions without any judgment.
But she's making it so difficult for me! To just sit and watch.
But he didn't know Nathan. And he can't seem to trust Elena with him.
Something about him seems off!
Nathan, you don't seem as good Elena thinks you're.
Too polished, too smooth. Something about him had never sat right.
He could see Elena shatter over some like mister "i-am-so-perfect". He couldn't see her crying.
His heart pained to see her in that vulnerable spot.
She's too innocent to be played at.
I won't allow anyone to take what she's been working so hard to achieve – living up to her parents expectations.
Which btw she doesn't need to… but somehow she cares too much.
Adrian set the phone down, fingers lingering over the screen.
Elena.
She'd been such a lively child.
He'd watched her grow a quiet, and unsure girl, into a woman who somehow brightened every room she entered.
She didn't see it, of course.
She doesn't know the effect of her presence wherever she goes.
Still thought too little of herself, still hid behind work and books and that stubborn drive to be perfect.
Smart. Stubborn. Brilliant. Vulnerable.
She trusted too easily, cared too quickly.
And people like Nathan always noticed.
He rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling. "She's fine," he muttered, though the words didn't sound convincing.
Is she fine?
11:42.
He typed a message—You home yet?—then deleted it. No.
Give her space.
His gaze drifted to the photo pinned beside his monitor: the three of them at last year's campus fair. Elena laughing, wind in her hair.
He smiled sadly.
"She's fine," he whispered again.
But something deep down—instinct, or something older—refused to believe it.
—
(Elena's POV)
Next Morning.
Elena woke to the soft light spilling through her curtains and the buzz of her phone on the nightstand.
7:00 a.m.
"Shit," she muttered, sitting up.
She'd slept longer than she meant to.
A calendar reminder blinked across the screen:
Project deadline—next week.
She groaned. She hadn't even started it properly.
Pushing herself out of bed, she hurried toward the shower. Adrian would be here by 7:30, and he didn't wait.
Just the thought of him reminded her—she'd promised to call after dinner.
Shit! He'd have been worried about her.
He'd kill her for not calling.
Her mind flicked back to last night.
Nathan's words, the calm way he'd said he'd wait for her to figure things out. That he liked her.
She sighed, shaking her head. Not now. She had to move.
By the time she came downstairs, her hair was tied high and she was dressed in an oversized hoodie and tights.
The smell of coffee hit her before she reached the kitchen.
Nathan stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, pouring cream into two mugs. He smiled when he saw her.
"Guess who's back. Elena in her brother's clothes again. You really have an obsession with things three sizes too big."
She rolled her eyes, trying to protest while her pulse raced. "They're comfortable."
He leaned against the counter, that easy confidence back in his voice. "Comfortable's fine. Just a shame to hide all that."
She laughed lightly. "What— you don't like them on me?"
"I didn't say that." His gaze lingered, steady. "You just forget how beautiful you are sometimes."
Beautiful? Me?
She looked down at her phone.
7:22.
Come on, Adrian.
"Is that for me?" she asked, pointing at the coffee, trying to change the subject.
"Depends," he said, sliding a mug toward her. "You answer my question first."
Why don't you let it go?
"You're impossible."
"And you're deflecting."
"Fine. I like wearing these because they're comfy – and they keep the attention.. away."
"You don't enjoy attention?"
"No. I hate it. Now, can I have my coffee? I'm already late."
He nodded, amused. "You slept all right? You look better than yesterday. Although, I'll admit—the dinner look suited you."
Her throat tightened.
Through the window, she spotted Adrian's car pulling in.
Relief washed over her.
"Thanks for the coffee," she said gulping it quickly. "You really make it well."
"That's a compliment, coming from the girl whose cooking skills are admirable."
She quickly picked up her things to rush towards the main door.
Nathan came in her way and stepped closer.
His hand brushed her arm. "Leaving me so soon?"
She froze.
Butterflies danced in her stomach from just a small touch of his hand.
He chuckled, stepping back again. "Go on, you'll miss your ride."
Elena forced a smile and hurried out. "Good-bye to you too, Nathan."
---
The Drive.
She yanked open the car door, breath still uneven.
Adrian glanced at her but said nothing as the car rolled out of the driveway.
"I'm sorry, Dree," she started quickly. "For not calling last night."
He shifted gears, eyes on the road. "It's okay. I was busy myself."
"I just wanted to tell you how the dinner went," she said softly. "He was nice—a complete gentleman. He said he'd wait until I figured things out. He didn't want me to take too long. And he said…" she smiled a little, "he likes me too."
Adrian's hands tightened slightly on the wheel.
"He likes you too,"he echoed quietly. "Meaning – you like him?"
The question caught her. She blinked, then laughed nervously. "I guess… I do."
Wow. I like Nathan.
"So," Adrian asked after a pause, "did you tell him that?"
"Not in words," she said. "I'm just not sure I can handle the disappointment—or the disapproval. My parents would never accept it. What if they really threw me out?"
He laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes. "That's what shelter homes are for. You'd have the experience of a lifetime—no rules, no lectures. You could finally live however you wanted."
She smiled, nudging his arm. "Good idea, Dree. Living like a homeless person—dream come true. Why don't you show me how it's done?" A laugh escaped her lips.
He grinned. "Maybe one day, when you're ready for real freedom."
They both laughed, the tension easing for a while. Outside, the city blurred past, and for a brief moment, everything felt normal again.
---
By afternoon.
The day passed quietly.
Between lectures and their project, Elena, Adrian, and Isla stayed together—working, teasing, letting small talk fill the gaps that used to feel heavy.
By late afternoon, sunlight stretched across the classroom floor, warm and harmless.
When she got home, the house was silent.
She almost felt like herself again, until the quiet reminded her who wasn't there.
No sign of Nathan. She sighed in relief.
She changed, opened her laptop, and tried to focus on the assignment. The rhythm of typing blurred into the hum of the ceiling fan until her eyes grew heavy.
She told herself she'd rest for just a minute.
Sleep came first.
---
Late Night.
Her phone buzzed against the desk.
Nathan.
She groaned and reached for it. "Hello?"
"Wake up, sleeping beauty," his voice came, light and certain. "I'm on my way home—with food."
"Nathan, I'm tired. I can't—"
"Five minutes," he said, and the line went dead.
She sighed, sinking back. Of course.
Five minutes later, headlights swept across her wall.
She didn't move when the knock came. "I'm not hungry," she called aloud.
The door opened anyway. Nathan stepped in, paper bag in hand, the smell of soy and sesame following him.
"Good thing I didn't listen," he said, setting the bag on the corner table. "You skipped dinner. That's unhealthy."
Elena pushed herself up on one elbow. "You shouldn't be in here."
He ignored that, unpacking the food. "At least smell it before you refuse. Best Chinese place in town."
He cares about me…?
She folded her arms, pretending indifference, though her stomach betrayed her with a small growl.
Nathan chuckled. "There we go." He lifted a forkful, holding it out. "One bite. Then I'll leave you to sleep."
She hesitated, glaring at the fork as if it were a test. Finally she leaned forward and took the bite.
The food was warm, sweet, too good to pretend otherwise.
"See?" he said softly, smirk returning. "Not so bad."
He stayed there for a moment, watching her, before setting the box on the table beside her bed.
He came closer to the bed and brushed her cheek before saying,"Goodnight, beautiful."
When he left, the air still smelled of ginger and spice.
She sat there for a long minute, unsure whether she was full—or simply too tired to fight.
She touched the spot on her cheek where his fingers had brushed, and for the first time, the warmth didn't feel comforting—it felt like a mark.
Somewhere, in the same hour she closed her eyes, Adrian opened his—wide awake, staring at a phone that refused to light up.