Baldwin's Mansion
The night was eerily quiet as Savannah and Blaze stepped into their shared bedroom, almost as if the world outside had paused.
The door creaked slightly as it swung open, revealing a space that had remained untouched for ten long days—days that felt like an eternity, hollowing out parts of them in ways they couldn't quite grasp.
A faint scent lingered in the air, a blend of their essences that somehow persisted despite the absence.
The sheets lay just as they had left them, slightly rumpled but cold, as if the bed itself had grown distant in their time apart. The walls, once a source of comfort, now felt alien, like a room that belonged to strangers.
Without a word, they both gravitated toward the bed, their movements slow, almost hesitant. It wasn't like before-nothing was like before. They settled onto opposite sides, backs turned at first, as if the distance between them was still necessary. The silence between them was heavy, thick with everything that had been said and unsaid, with truths that had come to light and the weight of emotions too complex to put into words.
Blaze lay on his side, his body rigid and his mind racing. He knew sleep wouldn't come, not with her so close yet feeling so far away. After all those days of longing for her, she was finally here—just within reach. But somehow, that wasn't enough.
He turned to face her, unable to resist the magnetic pull of her presence. His gaze found her instantly, tracing the gentle contours of her face in the soft moonlight streaming through the window. She looked exhausted. The shadows under her eyes and the uneven rhythm of her breathing even in stillness told him everything he needed to know.
She hadn't been sleeping. She hadn't been eating well either. He could tell by the faint hollowness in her cheeks, by the way her frame seemed just a little frailer than before. Guilt settled heavily in his chest.
This was all his fault. Everything that had happened.
His throat tightened, an unbearable pressure building inside him. The way she affected him was unlike anything he had ever known-it was overwhelming, suffocating even, as if she had wrapped herself around his very existence, leaving him breathless and undone.
He needed to touch her, just to reassure himself that she was real, that she was right there with him.
With a slow, cautious movement, he reached out, his fingers brushing against her hair before gently weaving through the strands. He stroked her head in a soft, steady rhythm, his touch light yet intentional. He knew she hadn't been sleeping well for days. He understood that she was restless, tormented by the truths that had come crashing down around her. And if there was anything he could do—anything at all—it was this.
He would make it better.
He would ensure she didn't have to face this alone anymore.
Savannah, curled up on her side, felt the warmth of his touch seep into her scalp, comforting yet grounding. It was an odd sensation—one she should have pulled away from, but instead, she found herself leaning into it. Her body responded before her mind could catch up, her muscles slowly unwinding, the tension in her shoulders easing.
Sleep had eluded her for days. Ever since the truth had been revealed, her nights had been filled with restless tossing and turning, her mind unable to find peace. But now... now, with his fingers gently working through her hair, enveloped by his warmth, something inside her began to shift.
Her eyelids grew heavier.
Was it him? Was he the reason she could finally let go and drift into the soothing embrace of sleep?
The realization sent a ripple of unease through her.
Because if he was the only thing that could bring her peace, if she needed him like this, then what did that mean for her? For them?
And more importantly...
Was that a good thing?
Or was it something much more perilous?
The Next Morning
The morning sun cast a golden glow over the vast mansion, its warm rays stretching across the well-manicured lawns and polished marble pathways. A slight breeze rustled the towering trees lining the driveway, their leaves whispering secrets only the wind could hear.
In the front yard, a sleek black car awaited, its shiny surface sparkling in the morning glow. The driver stood by the vehicle, hands clasped behind his back, while Arthur, Blaze's ever-reliable secretary, stood a few steps away, looking poised and professional as always. Everything was set for Blaze's departure to his company.
But it wasn't the act of leaving that had captured the attention of those around the mansion.
At the grand entrance, Blaze stood with Savannah, a sight that took everyone by surprise. Savannah lingered just inside the mansion's threshold, her arms relaxed at her sides, her eyes locked on the man in front of her.
Blaze, ever the picture of composure, regarded her with an intensity that conveyed so much—something raw, something unspoken. His voice was calm and steady as he spoke, offering her words before he left. Though his words were meant for her, they fell on the ears of those watching, unnoticed.
What mattered most was that she was truly listening.
The household staff, the security personnel, even the distant gardeners who had paused in their work-everyone was thrown into silent bewilderment. But none were more shocked than Arthur and Elijah.
Arthur's keen gaze flicked between them, his typically inscrutable face revealing a hint of surprise. He had anticipated something entirely different—perhaps a cold indifference or even a lingering bitterness from Savannah. But this? This calm exchange, this quiet farewell between them? It was beyond anything he had envisioned. Yet, despite his bewilderment, a small smile began to form on his lips. He felt a sense of happiness for his boss.
Blaze had been tormented in recent days, his mind heavy with guilt and his heart burdened by Savannah's animosity. If this was even a glimmer of healing between them, Arthur felt thankful for it.
But Elijah?
Elijah was far from pleased.
His jaw was set tight, hands balled into fists at his sides as he observed the scene unfold. Disbelief flickered in his dark eyes, his mind racing with a whirlwind of unanswered questions.
How? How could she stand there so composed?
How could she even look at Blaze without the fury that had burned in her eyes just days before?
Had she... forgotten?
Had she truly forgotten what had been taken from her? Had she forgotten the truth she had fought so hard to uncover—the truth that had shattered her world? The pain, the grief, the loss of her child—was all of that just... erased now?
The thought made his blood boil. He had witnessed her break. He had seen the fire of hatred in her eyes, had heard the venom in her voice when she spoke of Blaze. And now, as he watched her stand there, listening to the very man she had vowed to despise, he felt something within him begin to crack.
Was this forgiveness?
Or was it something entirely different?
Blaze, unaware or perhaps, unconcerned by the turmoil around them, took a step closer to Savannah. His eyes softened as he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against her hair before he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head.
It wasn't rushed or hesitant. It was a purposeful gesture, a silent promise of reassurance.
One last look, one final small smile—and then he turned away.
With long strides, he made his way to the waiting car, his demeanor as composed as ever. The driver opened the door for him, and in no time, he slipped into the back seat. Arthur followed, though his eyes lingered on Savannah for just a moment longer before he joined him inside.
The car's engine roared to life.
Savannah remained where she stood, her expression unreadable, her body unmoving as the vehicle slowly began its departure. She watched as it rolled down the long driveway, past the wrought-iron gates of the mansion.
She didn't budge, even as the car shrank into the distance.
She didn't move even when it vanished completely from view.
Only when the last trace of it was gone did she blink, releasing a slow, quiet breath.
And yet, no one—not Arthur, not Elijah, not even the staff who had been observing—could decipher what that breath signified.
Was it relief?
Or was it something far more dangerous?
Author's Note :
Updating after ages:(
Apologies, I was slightly busy!
Anyways enjoy:)
Have a good day/night<3