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---
There was something wrong with the way Elias touched her now.
It wasn't rough. It wasn't violent.
It was gentle.
Too gentle â like he was afraid she'd disappear if he pressed too hard, like he thought her skin might tear under his hands if he wasn't careful.
But that wasn't what Maya feared.
What she feared⌠was that he could be gentle and still dangerous.
> "You're too quiet," Elias said.
They were in his room. Lights off. Curtains drawn. The rest of the house was silent â his mother never came home anymore, and no one dared question where he was when he didn't show up to class.
He was lying beside her on the bed, shirtless, his hand tracing circles across her bare thigh like it was instinct. Like he didn't even realize he was doing it.
Maya didn't look at him.
> "I'm thinking," she murmured.
> "About what?"
> "About what it means to belong to someone."
His hand stilled.
A pause.
Then:
> "It means you don't leave."
She turned her face toward him, studying the way his jaw clenched, the way his mouth went tight at the edges.
> "And if I do?" she asked softly.
> "You won't."
> "But if I do?"
His eyes met hers. Calm. Dark. Deadly.
> "Then I'll follow," he said. "And I'll make you remember who you belong to."
Her breath caught.
Not from fear.
From how true it sounded. From how a part of her wanted to hear him say it again â darker, harsher, more unhinged.
What was wrong with her?
She used to want safety. Quiet. Peace.
Now she wanted Elias.
Even if it burned.
Even if it broke her.
> "I think something inside me is changing," she whispered.
> "No," he said, pulling her closer. "It's just waking up."
She stared at the ceiling as he tucked her under his arm, her body caged against his chest.
> "EliasâŚ"
> "Hmm?"
> "Did you love Mira?"
Silence.
His body stiffened â just enough for her to feel it.
> "I thought I did," he said slowly. "But Mira loved herself more than she ever loved anyone else."
> "So did she love you back?"
He didn't answer.
That was all the answer she needed.
> "I think I hated her sometimes," Maya whispered. "For taking everything. For being everything. Even in death, she left me nothing but a shadow."
> "Not anymore," Elias said. "Now you're the one who keeps me breathing."
> "And if I stop?"
He looked at her then â really looked at her.
And what she saw scared her.
Not because it was rage.
Because it was worship.
> "Then I'll stop too," he said quietly.
She wanted to cry.
Not because it was romantic.
Because it was wrong.
She'd never asked for his devotion. She'd never asked to be the center of someone's storm. But now that she had itâŚ
She couldn't breathe without it.
She reached up and touched his jaw, her voice shaking.
> "Promise me something."
> "Anything."
> "Don't lie to me. Ever again."
He nodded.
But the look in his eyes told her it was already too late.
---
The next day at school, people were whispering again.
Not because of what they'd done â no one knew that.
But because Maya showed up with a bruise on her collarbone. One she hadn't covered. One shaped suspiciously like Elias's mouth.
Serena pulled her aside between classes.
> "Are you okay?"
> "I'm fine."
> "Maya, this doesn't look fineâ"
> "He didn't hurt me," she said flatly. "Not in a way that matters."
Serena flinched. "That's not the flex you think it is."
But Maya didn't answer.
Because Serena didn't understand.
This wasn't about pain or pleasure.
This was about need.
And Maya needed Elias like a drowning girl needs water â even when it filled her lungs.
---
That night, he came to her window again.
No warning.
No text.
Just Elias, climbing through the darkness like he'd done it a thousand times.
And when he slid into bed beside her and pulled her close, she whispered:
> "You're going to ruin me."
He kissed the spot over her heart.
> "You say that like you're not already mine."
---
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