Because we had no couch in the room, there was no escape. Elena was lying right beside me on the bed.
We were both facing away from each other, backs turned like two strangers sharing a raft in a storm. Even though there was a thick, decorative pillow placed between us as a makeshift border, the tension in the air was still at its peak.
Surprisingly, it had been Elena herself who placed the pillow between us the moment we lay down. And here I thought she was eager to claim me—to bridge every gap until there was nothing left.
Well, I’m relieved. It’s better this way; as long as there is physical distance, I can pretend this isn’t a total free-fall into insanity.
I was finally finding a sliver of peace, the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock acting as a tether to reality. But in contrast to my relief, Elena’s emotions were fluctuating wildly. Through strange, I could almost feel her internal monologue screaming.
’Why? Why did I say that?’ she thought, her fingers gripping the edge of the duvet. ’And why am I lying next to him? This is my brother... MY BROTHER!’
I could hear her breathing—it was shallow and uneven. She wasn’t asleep. Far from it. She was vibrating with a mixture of shame, confusion, and that dark, coiling hunger that refused to be silenced by a mere pillow.
’I slammed the door. I blew up Aries’ room. I dragged Rio here and told him we’d sleep together...’
Her mind was a chaotic loop of the night’s escalations.
’I’m... His sister. And yet... the moment he touched my arm to stop me from hitting Aries, I felt like I was the one being saved.’
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the image of my hand on her skin, but the warmth of the bed only made the memory more vivid.
’He stood up to me. He looked at me with those eyes... and I felt like I was melting. If he gets stronger, if he stands on his own... will he still need me?’
She shifted slightly, the rustle of the mattress sounding like a thunderclap in the silent room. I held my breath, playing dead, hoping she wouldn’t turn around.
’No,’ A low, jagged murmur escaped her throat, so quiet it was almost a hum. ’I’ll teach him. I’ll make him the strongest. And then, he’ll truly be the only one fit to stand by my side. No one else will ever—.’
She slowly began to turn over, the mattress creaking under her weight. I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. The "border" was about to be crossed.
"Rio?" she whispered into the dark, her voice devoid of its earlier rage, replaced by something far more unsettling. "Are you awake?"
I kept my eyes shut, praying to whatever god ran this system that she’d buy my "sleeping" act one more time.
"I know you aren’t," she said, a faint, rhythmic tapping starting as her finger traced the edge of the pillow between us. "I can hear your heart. It’s beating so fast... almost as fast as mine."
Yeah, it is, so what?
Whose heart wouldn’t be hammering like a trapped bird if a girl as beautiful and hot as Elena was lying inches away from him in the dark? It’s a biological reflex. Every time she breathed, the scent of her washed over me, making my head spin.
It was normal. It was human. But at the same time, it was very, very bad.
Because I am pure. Or at least, I am desperately trying to stay that way. I want to remain the master of my own fate, not a plaything for a sister whose "protection" was rapidly morphing into a cage.
My mind was screaming for me to maintain my dignity, to stay the course and not give in to the intoxicating tension filling the room.
"You’re so tense," she murmured, and I could feel her leaning over the pillow. "Even when you’re ’sleeping,’ you look like you’re ready to bolt."
I didn’t move. I didn’t even dare to adjust my breathing.
I was a statue. A very stressed, very "pure" statue.
"If I didn’t know better," she continued, her voice sent a fresh shiver down my spine, "I’d think you were afraid of me. But you aren’t, are you? Not after the way you grabbed my arm in Aries’ room. You were the only one who could look into my rage and not blink."
Her hand moved. I felt the softest brush of her fingertips against the back of my neck, just above the collar of my shirt. It was barely a touch, but it felt like a bolt of electricity.
"I won’t break you, Rio," she whispered, her face so close now I could feel the warmth of her breath against my ear. "I’m going to forge you. By the time we’re done, you’ll be the only person in this world I can truly rely on. And you’ll realize... that this is exactly where you belong."
She didn’t pull the pillow away. She didn’t try to force a kiss. She simply left her hand resting near my head, a silent, heavy promise of the obsession to come.
I lay there in the dark, my eyes squeezed shut so hard it hurt. I had wanted to get strong to survive the plot, but as I felt the crushing weight of Elena’s devotion, I realized I had an even bigger thing to survive than a mere plot.
I had to survive her.
The silence that followed was suffocating. She didn’t move her hand, and she didn’t retreat. It was as if she was waiting for a single crack in my facade—one deep breath, one flutter of an eyelid—to justify shattering the remaining distance between us.
Just when I thought I couldn’t hold my breath a second longer, I felt the mattress shift again. Slowly, agonizingly, she retracted her hand. I heard the soft rustle of her settling back onto her side of the border.
"Goodnight, Rio," she murmured, her voice sounding oddly satisfied, as if she had already claimed a victory I hadn’t even realized I’d lost. "Sleep well."