Chapter 115: Chapter 115
Music Recommendation: Let me by Zyan Malik.
.....
"You look adorable when you’re confused," he teased.
Her eyes snapped, brining her out of the trance he placed her in, and back to reality. "I’m not confused. I just... don’t know what any of this means."
Elias smiled, and sat up straight. His voice dipped into a softer register, slipping into Italian without thinking. "Ti aiuto io, amore." He said.
Amara blinked. "What does that mean?"
"That I’ll help you," he translated smoothly, hiding the slip of amore. He didn’t miss the way her cheeks flushed.
"You really have to stop speaking that language like that," she muttered, her eyes darting away.
"Why?" he asked, leaning fully back his chair, utterly in control. "Because it makes you blush?"
Her lips parted in silent protest, but she didn’t deny it. Elias’s chest tightened. He shouldn’t push. He couldn’t push. And yet every fiber of him wanted to see how much further she’d let him go.
Amara parted her lips to reply to him, but the waiteress interrupted, dropping desert between them.
Amara eyed the small tiramisu placed between them. "You ordered one?"
"I don’t share dessert," Elias said, his voice rough. "But with you... maybe."
He lifted the spoon, scooped a piece, and held it out. Her brows shot up. "You’re feeding me?"
"Eat." His tone was low, and commanding, but his eyes burned with something more.
Amara leaned forward. Her lips closed around the spoon. Coffee, cream, cocoa—all of it was there, but the taste was drowned out by the sheer intimacy of his gaze. She swallowed slowly.
Elias didn’t look away. His fingers tightened around the spoon as though imagining something else. He imagined her lips, her skin, and her breath against his mouth.
"Your turn," she whispered, snatching the spoon from his hand.
He leaned in, parting his lips obediently as she fed him. Her hand trembled slightly, and he felt the brush of her knuckles against his jaw.
It was nothing. It was just a bite of dessert. A meaningless game. However, his control cracked, just a fraction.
The air between them grew thick, and they immediately pulled away from themselves, and ate in silence.
When the check was paid, he offered her his hand. She took it, hesitating for only a second before letting his palm swallow hers.
Outside, the night was cool, and the street was dimly lit. Elias led her toward the car, but before he could unlock it, she tugged at his sleeve.
"Elias..." Her voice was softer now. "Why are you really telling me all this? The Italian thing. The roots. The accent. Why now?"
He looked down at her, every lie he’d been trained to tell resting on the edge of his tongue. But what came out was a dangerous half-truth. "Because I want to take things further, and more serious with you."
Her brows knit. "Serious?"
Idiot. He cursed himself silently. His hand came up, cupping her cheek, stopping the questions before they could leave her lips.
"Don’t," he said hoarsely. "Don’t ask right now."
Her breath hitched. His face was inches from hers. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, and the raw pull. He leaned in so close that their noses brushed, and his lips almost claimed hers.
Suddenly, he stopped. Every instinct screamed to take, to devour, and to make her his. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not when one slip could unravel everything.
He pressed his forehead to hers instead, closing his eyes. "Not tonight, Amara."
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. For a second, disappointment flickered across her face. But it was drowned out quickly by curiosity, hunger, confusion, suspicion, and satisfaction.
Amara didn’t move away.
Her eyes stayed locked on his, unflinching. He felt the weight of her stare. Elias’s jaw flexed, his breath uneven, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like the one at risk of breaking.
His thumb brushed the line of her jaw, slow and deliberate, then he stepped back. The absence of his touch was immediate, and her lips parted slightly as though she wanted to call him back, but she didn’t.
Instead, she straightened, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Right," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "Not tonight."
The words tasted like surrender and defiance in equal measure.
Elias finally unlocked the car, holding the door open for her. She slipped in silently, and he circled to the driver’s side. The engine roared to life, but the silence inside the car was louder than any noise.
Amara crossed her arms, staring out the window, her thoughts moving too fast for her to catch. He wanted something serious. He said so. But then he stopped. Why? Why offer her the world in one breath and snatch it away in the next?
She hated the way her body still buzzed, and the way her skin still hummed where he’d touched her.
Elias gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary. His knuckles were pale against the leather. Every second in her presence mocked his discipline. She didn’t even know what she was doing to him. And maybe that was the problem.
If she knew... if she really knew, she wouldn’t be sitting next to him at all.
When they pulled up outside her place, Amara hesitated. She didn’t move to unbuckle her seatbelt right away. She turned to him instead, her expression shadowed by the glow of the streetlight overhead.
"Why do I feel like you’re holding back?" she asked quietly.
The words slid between his ribs like a blade.
Elias forced a smirk, tilting his head as if the question amused him. "Maybe I am."
She searched his face, looking for more, but he didn’t give it. Finally, she sighed, unbuckled her seatbelt, and reached for the handle. "You drive me insane, Elias."
"Good." His voice was smooth, but inside, he was in great chaos.
Amara rolled her eyes, and managed to force out a half smile that was tugging at her lips despite her frustration. "Goodnight."
Elias nodded.
He watched her disappear into her building, as her silhouette vanishing behind the door. Only when he was alone again did he let his head fall back against the seat. His chest raised and fell in uneven bursts.
He could still feel her breath against his lips. And he could still hear the faint tremor in her voice.
"Not tonight," he whispered to himself, the words harsher now. At the moment, it was a command aimed at his own hunger.
Amara wasn’t a key. She wasn’t even a full time target. She wasn’t even supposed to matter.
And yet—
She did.
Far too much.