Chapter 231: …In The Lair Of The Basilisk

ADRIEN’S POV

I hesitated.

The question is simple enough, but there is something in his voice that makes me look at him more carefully.

He is waiting. Not impatiently. Not with the familiar expectation that I will eventually do what he wants.

He is simply waiting for my answer. I realise that I could refuse. I could tell him I want to stay here. I could ask him to give me space. I could even go upstairs alone.

The choice is there. Whether I trust it is another matter.

"Not yet," I say.

Orion nods. "All right."

I settle back against the cushions.

He does not argue.

His arm remains around me, and I allow my head to rest against his shoulder. The rain continues to fall beyond the windows, washing the city in a pale, silver haze.

For the first time in days, I do not feel the immediate need to know what happens next.

I think about Louise’s grave.

I imagine the rain falling over the flowers, the earth settling around the casket, and the white roses slowly losing their shape beneath the weather.

I wonder whether anybody will visit her tomorrow. I wonder whether Alice will ever stand beside that grave.

I wonder whether Louise would have wanted her there.

There are so many things I cannot know.

Perhaps that is the cruelest part of death. It does not always provide an ending. Sometimes it simply takes away the only person who could have answered the questions.

I close my eyes.

"Adrien."

"Hm?"

"You’re falling asleep."

"I am not."

"You have been trying to keep your eyes open for the last three minutes."

"Maybe I’m thinking."

"With your eyes closed?"

"It helps."

He makes a quiet sound of amusement. I shift closer, searching for a more comfortable position.

His arm tightens around me.

I should probably be concerned about how easily I have begun to accept this. There was a time when I would have argued with him for touching me without asking.

Now I find myself adjusting against his side, allowing his warmth to settle around me.

It is not forgiveness.

I have not forgotten what he is capable of, and I have not decided that every unpleasant thing between us has suddenly become acceptable.

But I am tired.

And tonight, I do not want to spend another hour holding myself apart from him.

"Just a little longer," I murmur.

Orion looks down at me. "Of course." His fingers move through my hair again.

I let my eyes close.

Somewhere beyond the windows, the rain continues its steady fall. Somewhere beneath the earth, Louise lies among the flowers, taking the secrets of her life with her.

I do not know what she wanted from me in those final moments. I do not know whether she ever loved anybody, whether she regretted anything, or whether she died believing that she had won some private battle nobody else understood.

I will probably think about it again tomorrow. For now, I allow the questions to remain unanswered.

I allow myself to stay where I am. A little longer.

And Orion lets me.

Unknown to me, something changes in his expression.

His hand continues moving through my hair, but his attention sharpens as he studies my face. He notices the way I no longer stiffen when his fingers touch my neck.

He notices that I have stopped watching his hands as though I expect them to do something unpleasant. He notices the small pause before I move away from him, and the fact that, this time, I do not move away at all.

For a long moment, he says nothing.

Then his mouth curves.

It is not the amused smile he usually wears when I complain about him. There is something else in it, something quieter and far less innocent.

Satisfaction.

He looks at me as though he has been waiting for this particular moment, not necessarily expecting it to arrive tonight, but knowing that patience has its uses.

His gaze travels over my face before settling on my closed eyes.

He remembers the first time I looked at him with genuine hatred. He remembers the way I used to pull away whenever he approached, the arguments that followed his attempts to keep me close, and every occasion on which I made it clear that I did not want to belong to him.

He remembers all of it.

And now I am sitting beside him without being asked twice.

His fingers pause in my hair. The smile remains.

He does not reach for his phone. He does not call anyone or give an instruction. There is no need to disturb the quiet room.

Whatever has brought them to this moment, he seems content to let it remain undisturbed. Then he lowers his head and presses a brief kiss against my temple.

I do not notice the change in his expression.

I am too busy trying to convince myself that the warmth surrounding me is simply the result of being exhausted.

When I finally open my eyes, his attention is still on me. There is a faint curve at the corner of his mouth, an expression I cannot quite read.

"What?" I whisper.

"Nothing, my love."

I narrow my eyes. "You’re smiling."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"Then perhaps you should give me something worth smiling about."

I scoff quietly and close my eyes again. "You’re insufferable."

"I know."

His hand settles against my cheek. I make no attempt to move it away. And that is enough for tonight.

I remain beside him, unaware of the thoughts moving behind his eyes, unaware of the quiet satisfaction hidden beneath his familiar expression.

I do not see the way his smile lingers after mine disappears, or how carefully he watches me as though this small surrender means more to him than anything I could have said.

I only know that the man beside me has not left. For tonight, I let that be enough. And Orion watches me with a smile that gives nothing away.

*****

Oh come on! You didn’t think this was a fluff story did you? Have you forgotten who Orion Vassilis is?

—TheLovePoet