AURELIA
The first thing I noticed was the silence.
Then the cold.
The space beside me was empty, sheets twisted and cooling where Kaelith's body had been. A faint impression of him remained heat fading like a ghost. No scent of him, no breath against my skin. Just… gone.
Good, I told myself.
I sat up slowly, body aching in places I didn't want to think too much about. My thighs, my throat, the bend of my neck where he'd sunk his teeth like he had a right to every part of me.
Last night hadn't been love. It hadn't even been lust in the way I was used to. It was something darker. Rougher. Like he was trying to burn himself into my skin. Like he already owned it.
But that wasn't what made my chest tight.
It was the absence.
Why did it bother me that he left without a word?
I pulled the sheet over my chest and sank back against the pillows, letting my eyes drift shut. Maybe sleep would drag me under this time. Maybe I wouldn't see him.
But I didn't dream of Kaelith.
I dreamed of him. I dreamed of Luca
We were in the kitchen of my old apartment. The light above us flickered like always, yellow and too warm, but it made his skin glow. He was barefoot, hair damp from the rain, and he was grinning at me like the world outside didn't exist. "I love it when you wear my shirts," he said, tugging at the oversized fabric that swallowed my body. I rolled my eyes. "You only say that because you've ruined all of mine." He stepped closer, wrapped his arms around my waist. "No. I say it because I like knowing you belong to me. "I'd laughed back then. God, I'd laughed and leaned into him like he was home. Like there was no edge I'd ever fall off if I was wrapped up in him. That night, he cooked for me. Pasta, because it was the only thing he knew how to make. We drank cheap wine. We slow-danced in the living room to a song playing from his busted phone speaker. He told me he wanted forever with me. "I don't want perfect," he whispered, hands in my hair. "I just want you."And I'd believed him.
A week later, he left.
—
I snapped awake with a ragged breath. The ceiling above me blurred and spun. My hands curled into the sheets, cold sweat beading at the base of my neck.
That memory haunted me more than the heartbreak. The way he made forever sound so easy.
And then just… gone. One call. One sentence. One shattered engagement ring left in a box I couldn't bring myself to throw out.
I should've seen it coming. The cracks. The distance. The way he looked at me like he wanted to say something but never did. I asked if he loved someone else. He said, "No. It's not about that."
But he never told me what it was about. Only that he was sorry. And that he was gone.
That kind of silence changes a person.
And now here I was. In another strange place. Wrapped in another man's claim. Another man who didn't talk. Who touched like he'd earned the right but left before sunrise.
I stood, wrapping the sheet around me, body still humming with leftover heat and bruises that hadn't bloomed yet. The apartment was too clean, too quiet.
Then the door clicked.
Boots. Heavy. Slow.
Kaelith.
He didn't speak when he entered. Just placed two cups of coffee on the counter like it was normal. Like we were… something.
"You left," I said, tone flat.
His eyes cut to me. Cold. Deep. The kind of stare that made your lungs tighten even when you weren't afraid.
"I came back," he said.
That was it.
Not sorry, not did you sleep well, not you okay?
I stared at him, waiting for something more. But he just stood there, unbothered, his shirt dark with mist from outside. Hair slightly wet. Jaw set.
"You always disappear after?" I asked, folding my arms.
His gaze drifted lower, pausing at the sheet wrapped tight around me. "Only when I need to remind myself not to take more than I already have."
I blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
But he didn't answer.
Typical.
There was something in the way he watched me—like he knew too much. Not just about last night. About me. My past. The kind of knowing that didn't come from conversation.
He was hiding something. I felt it deep in my bones.
Still, I stayed silent.
Let him be quiet. Let him hold his secrets like knives tucked beneath his ribs.
I had mine, too.
But something told me we weren't done cutting each other open.