"I don't love her in chapters.
I love her like a sentence
that refuses punctuation,
no period,
no breath,
no permission to stop."

Nathan's POV

There were too many people in my house.

I hated it.

Forget hate, that was too clean a word. This was a feral itch under my skin, a crawling, twitching thing that made my fingers flex around my fork like I might stab at least one person before breakfast was over, just one, can I? You know, to keep the balance and preserve my inner peace.

The homicidal urge spiked, sharp and eager...then started to diminish the second my eyes slid to my right.

My princess sat beside me, chewing slowly, her gaze drifting curiously between the uninvited guests, listening in too closely, as if she could stitch together pieces of me from their irrelevant words.

Her fork was in one hand, while the other rested on my thigh...unintentional, I suppose. Her fingers shifted absently, small unconscious movements, like she needed the contact, needed to feel me, to make sure I was here and well.

I had to avert my gaze from her soft face because looking at it this early was how people often ended up weak and forgiving, and I had a reputation to maintain.

I scanned the table once again, and a loud, irritated breath pushed out of my chest.

Why were they all here?

Why does it look like they're planning to stay?

More importantly, how do I get rid of them? Forever, preferably.

My eyes fell on Maria, seated right across from me, perched on her father's lap...apparently, they'd made up. She had flattened her pancake with both hands, rolled it into something resembling a sandwich, and brought it to her mouth, chewing happily and entirely unbothered.

Syrup coated the corners of her mouth, and with her cheeks puffed out and her mouth still full, she lifted her head and met my gaze. She smiled, her cheeks bulging, her nose scrunching ever so adorably, her eyes bright with the kind of soft joy that made it very hard to continue plotting murder against her family.

My lips betrayed me and twitched upward before I could stop them. I winked at her. Her smile stretched wider, and she shoved the last piece of pancake into her mouth before she glanced around, as if searching for something.

When she didn't find it, she shifted slightly on her father's lap and casually grabbed the lapel of his jacket, wiping her sticky hand on it.

Nikolas, mid-sipping his coffee, froze. Slowly, he lowered his cup, and his unimpressed gaze dropped to his daughter. He looked like he was praying for patience. God, I just love her.

She looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes and offered a sheepish smile. Then, she quickly slipped off his lap before he'd say a thing and scurried over to my side.

"Uncle Nathan," she muttered, pressing her little syrupy palms onto my thigh. God, that uncle word from her just kills me every time.

I sighed, already doomed, and lifted her onto my lap. "Yeah?"

She settled against me, her small body relaxing instantly. Her eyes drifted around the table, the house, curiously absorbing everything in. "This is your house?" she asked.

I nodded.

Her lips parted into a soft, astonished oh.

She leaned closer into me, still surveying the room. Then she tilted her head up and whispered to me, "What's that...man's name?"

I followed her gaze.

"Christian," I said flatly, shooting the twat a murderous glare. Why was he here again?

"Oh," She frowned immediately, squinting at him, before she turned back to me. "Chase doesn't like him."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah," I muttered, "and I don't like Chase."

God. Could I live in a Chase-less world? I deserved one.

Maria's brows pulled closer, her tiny face pulling into full defensive mode. "Don't say that," she mumbled, offended on the wanker's behalf.

My jaw tightened. Between this invasion, last night, yesterday as a whole, and my rapidly thinning patience, my tolerance was nonexistent.

"If you keep loving Chase like this," I said, meaning it, "I'm going to stop talking to you. Our friendship will be over."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me with a fury far too big for her age. "You're like Daddy sometimes," she shot back. "I don't like it...or you."

The fuck—

She forcefully pushed herself out of my embrace and stomped straight to Ronald, climbing up beside him, announcing her allegiance to her other uncle. Little traitor.

I stared at her, stunned.

Fine.

I didn't like her today either. Nikolas's daughter, indeed.

I turned my gaze to my princess, who had witnessed this and was now giving me that pointed look, the one that suggested I was the problem. Yeah, as if.

I huffed, "Don't say a thing," I muttered. I really needed to be alone. This was too much.

"Christian," Natalie's voice cut through my spiraling irritation, "you'll be staying here till Christmas, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

I shot him another glare, "You don't plan on staying at my house till then, do you?" I grumbled. I needed the space for my princess and me only, no third presence is allowed.

Or fourth. Or fifth. Or this entire fucking circus.

His eyebrow lifted as he leaned back in his chair, casually sipping his coffee, "Where else would I stay?" he asked, ever the insolent twat.

"My place isn't a fucking hotel—"

I didn't get to finish my words, because one, Aylin kicked my foot under the table. Two, Natalie, on my other side, hissed in a scolding manner, "Nathan."

I turned to glare at her on instinct. Just because we'd visited my mother's grave together didn't mean we were suddenly a loving, emotionally regulated family. The fuck was wrong with her?

She ignored me entirely and turned to Christian. "Never mind him," she said sweetly, and I imagined what it would feel like to strangle her. "You can stay at our place."

Nikolas's head snapped in her direction so fast, flashing her the famous what-the-fuck look. She didn't even acknowledge him, so he redirected his glare, first to Christian, then to me, before slumping back and muttering something under his breath, most likely mourning the version of his life that didn't involve any of us.

So tragic for him.

"Also," Natalie added casually, she clearly woke up today and chose violence, "we're having everyone over on Christmas Eve. You should come too."

Christian smiled politely, "Thank you, but I don't think that's a good idea."

"Yeah," Nikolas agreed immediately, nodding. "He's right, very bad idea."

Natalie sighed and shook her head at her husband, like he was the problem here. Then she turned to me. "You're coming too," she said. Not a question or a suggestion. No, a verdict.

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will."

I fucking hate her...

Her gaze drifted to Aylin next, her smile widening into something far too soft. "You too, Aylin," she added. "If you don't have plans with your family, I'd love for you to join us."

I snapped my gaze to my princess, daring her to choose wisely.

She met my warning look, hesitated, then glanced back at Natalie. "Uh...no," she said softly. "I don't have any plans—"

"Great," Natalie cut in cheerfully. "Now you do."

My jaw ticked so hard, and I kept glaring at Aylin; betrayal was a language she should be fluent in by now.

Her eyes widened in confusion as she leaned closer and whispered, "What?"

I leaned in just enough for only her to hear. "You'll pay for all of this later," I muttered darkly.

She started this entire nightmare the moment she called them last night.

Thankfully, not long after, they finished eating and scattered around the house—my house, might I remind everyone. Nikolas and Ronald were discussing work or something equally boring. Maria tugged on Aylin's sleeve and asked her to take her to the bathroom to wash her hands.

Natalie was sitting next to me still, her gaze on her phone, typing something.

I took the opening now that we were alone.

"Natalie," I mumbled, leaning closer.

She lifted her head immediately. "Yeah?" she asked, giving me her full attention.

"Did you talk to that doctor friend of yours?"

She nodded and straightened. "Yeah, I explained everything you told me," she said, locking her phone and setting it aside. "He said whenever you want, he can arrange a quick appointment. He'll need to run a few tests and scans, see what's going on, and hopefully figure out a diagnosis quickly."

I nodded, "You think he'd be available today?" I asked, not willing to prolong this any further, especially not after that horrible night she went missing.

"I'll ask him," Natalie said, already reaching for her phone. "I'll also send you his number."

I nodded, staying quiet while my mind did what it did best, lining up every possible worst-case scenario and daring them to happen.

She paused mid-motion and looked at me carefully. "Did you talk to her...about this?"

"Yeah," I said. "It didn't go well at first, but she..." I swallowed past the burn tightening my throat. "She accepted it, she said she wanted to see a doctor."

Natalie's brows pulled together, concern flashing openly now as her shoulders slumped. "I really hope there's nothing...wrong," she murmured.

"She's such a sweet girl," Natalie added softly.

Her gaze drifted toward the living room, where Maria had returned and immediately commandeered Aylin, tugging at her own hair and telling her she wanted pigtails. My princess looked utterly lost for a second, clearly unfamiliar with small humans and their antics, before she complied with the little one's wishes anyway.

"She was so worried about you last night," She added, and my jaw clenched at the mere memory of it, of falling weak and losing all of my control.

"Nathan," Natalie's voice softened, forcing my gaze to fall back on her.

"If you really want to help her, to be there for her, then you need to take care of your health as well," She said gently, leaning closer, and her fingers reached up, brushing the hair away from my temple, "If you want her to lean on you, then you need to be strong enough for her."

She shook her head, "You can't keep on skipping your check-ups or meds, you know how serious this is," She added, smoothing my hair back, her thumb brushing softly over my temple, and I breathed out, because she was right, and I hated her for it.

I hated that now it wasn't just about surviving out of spite, hated that I had something to lose, fucking hated that apparently I had to fight for myself too, and had no fucking clue how to do that.

"You need to see your doctor today as well," She added softly. "Get all of your tests done. Make sure nothing's wrong, okay?"

I nodded and felt myself unconsciously lean into her touch...what the fuck—I jerked back sharply, my eyes widening at the realization, my chair scraping against the floor as I hastily broke the contact like it had electrocuted me.

My skin crawled, every instinct in me screaming.

Absolutely fucking not.

I glared at her, then dragged my hand roughly through my hair, reclaiming space, reclaiming control, grounding myself back into irritation and anger where I belonged.

"Okay," I grumbled, already pushing my chair back and standing. "I'll see the doctor today. Then I'll take her to your friend, just tell me when he gets back to you."

Natalie stood as well, nodding once, relief flickering across her face.

"Now that we've established that," I added, lifting an eyebrow, "can you take your husband and your brother and kindly get the hell out of my house?"

She sighed loudly, shaking her head at my lack of manners. "Yeah, sure."

I left her to gather the plates, not offering to help because, well, no one had invited her to invade my house and run a breakfast operation. Hospitality implied consent. I'd given her none.

I was halfway through making my escape when Ronald spotted me. So unfortunate.

He slid closer and slung an arm around my shoulder, halting me mid-stride like we were best friends, and then he ruffled the back of my hair. I saw fucking red. "So, birthday boy," he grinned, utterly oblivious to his imminent death, "I was thinking we could have a guys' night out. You know, celebrate your birthday and all."

"First of all," I said flatly, "I'm not a boy."

"Second, don't fucking touch me again." I pushed myself out of his grip and took a step back, reestablishing a safe, non-homicidal distance between us, "and third, you're the last person I'd ever have a guys' night with."

He rolled his eyes. "Relax, your precious adoptive father will be there too," he added ever so bitterly as he mockingly pointed at Nikolas, who shot him a murderous glare in return and punched his shoulder without hesitation, his jaw ticking, "Shut the fuck up, will you?"

I watched the scene unfold, faintly satisfied as Ronald winced.

See, this was why I could tolerate Nikolas sometimes. We shared a mutual irritation toward Ronald. A rare bond, really. Unfortunately, he loved Natalie, considering she's his wife and all, which was where my tolerance hit its absolute limit.

Well, no one was perfect.

Leaving them to bicker like the annoying background noise they are, I made my way toward my princess. She was seated on the couch, utterly focused, her fingers working carefully as she fixed Maria's hair into two small, painfully adorable pigtails.

God help me.

Was it too early to put a baby in her and have this scene on a daily basis? Probably.

Did that stop the thought from forming fully and confidently in my head? Absolutely not.

When I stopped in front of them, Maria looked up at me and shook her head from side to side, ever so delighted, her freshly made pigtails flying everywhere. "Uncle Nathan, look!" she chirped, so excited she completely forgot she was still supposed to be mad at me.

"Your..." She paused mid-sentence, her brows knitting together as she glanced at Aylin. She hesitated, thinking hard, visibly buffering, "...uh—your wife did it for me."

I chuckled before I could stop myself.

Aylin facepalmed and shot me a sharp glare. She turned back to Maria, her gaze softening, "Just call me Aylin, okay?" she said gently, resting her hand on the kid's shoulder.

Maria blinked, once, twice, processing before nodding her head. "Okay."

Then she turned back to me and grabbed both pigtails, tugging on them proudly. "Look what Aylin did."

I crouched down in front of her, lifting a hand to brush over her soft hair, "Yeah," I said, smiling despite myself, "They're very pretty."

Her grin widened. "Yes, they are!"

She shook her head again, harder this time. Her hair whipped forward and smacked me directly in the face. She burst out giggling like she'd just assaulted me on purpose. God, this girl.

I caught her gently by the shoulders, holding this tiny chaos generator still before she launched another attack.

"Alright," I said, my tone more serious, "you and I need to reach an agreement."

She paused and looked at me, utterly confused.

"You will never," I continued, lowering my voice, "Never say that fu—" Breath in, breath out, "...Chase's name around me again. Deal?"

Her eyebrows pulled together into a frown, and her smile vanished.

"But I love Chase," she muttered, then glared at me, "I will always love him."

I rolled my eyes, "Here we fucking go again."

What was it about prince fucking charming that made everyone fall at his feet?

"Nathan!" Aylin hissed at me, her eyes widening as if to scold me, "Stop being so unreasonable, she is a kid."

Maria turned to her immediately, emboldened by the backup, and edged closer to my princess, clearly choosing sides. "Yes," she agreed firmly, nodding her head multiple times. "You are unre...unreasonable. Stop."

I shot them a glare...both of them united against me, the audacity.

I exhaled slowly through my nose. This morning was going to kill me.

"Did you know," I said, pointing at Aylin as I consciously chose violence, "that she used to love Chase too?" I grumbled, letting Maria in on the new information.

Maria turned her head back, tilting it as she looked at my princess, "Really?"

Aylin shot me a glare, then looked at the kid and shook her head, "Don't listen to him."

"Oh, no," I continued, waving her off, fully committed to this. "She absolutely did. They were dating...girlfriend, boyfriend, and all that disgusting bullshit," I rolled my eyes at the bitter memory, internally wincing, "Dark times, really."

Maria blinked, ever so confused.

I leaned closer, "She had the worst taste in men back then."

Aylin's jaw tightened. "Nathan." Ah, that erotic whiney voice...

"Before me, obviously," I added smugly and winked at Maria, "I fixed that."

Maria's little brain short-circuited beautifully. She looked from Aylin to me, then back to Aylin again. "So...you don't love Chase now?"

Aylin smiled gently, brushing her fingers over one of Maria's pigtails. "No, sweetie. I don't," she said softly. "He's just my friend. Nothing mo—"

Huh, as if.

"No, not even her friend," I cut in, my jaw ticking at the mere thought of it. Aylin's eyes burned into me. She looked more than ready to scratch my face if Maria wasn't standing between us, "I won't allow it." I added, my eyebrow raising in warning.

Maria frowned, thinking still. Then, because children were chaos wrapped in innocence, no filters whatsoever in their little heads, she tilted her head again, studying Aylin some more before she asked, "Do you love Uncle Nathan?"

The room went still.

Aylin froze.

The beautiful redness crept up her neck first, then bloomed across her cheeks. I watched the hard swallow in her throat, the way her fingers stilled in Maria's hair, the way her breath hitched just enough to give her away.

She lifted her head and looked at me.

Her green eyes met mine, my breathtaking secret garden, overgrown and untamed, a place no one else was allowed in, no one but me.

Something shifted in my chest, something dark and hungry, clawing at the walls, scratching, begging to be let free.

God, I wanted her. All of her. Every thought, every doubt, and every fragile, defiant piece.

I wanted her to want me the way I wanted her, so recklessly, consuming, and inevitable.

Fuck, I knew it wasn't healthy.

This wasn't something you recovered from. This was the kind that hollowed you out and moved in, rearranged the furniture, made itself at home in your bones.

I was obsessed...god, so very obsessed, violently, irrevocably so.

The kind that didn't care about balance or restraint or sanity. The kind that burned so hot it promised madness and meant it.

I knew it would ruin me.

I also knew I'd let it...let her.

Because I hadn't chosen her, no, I'd claimed her in a place deeper than reason. She was already threaded through my blood, my breath pacing itself to hers, my pulse answering to her existence like it had always been waiting for her only.

If she ever walked away, if she ever left me, there would be no mercy in me. Not for her, not for myself, and certainly not for whatever stood between us.

I would cross every line. I would become something unrecognizable, something feral, entirely devoted to undoing that loss. I would overstep every moral, every limit, every boundary....I was that much fucked-up in the head, that far gone.

I didn't want her selflessly. I wanted her selfishly. Possessively. Wrongly.

If she tried to walk away, I'd lock her in, and if she managed to escape, I'd hunt her, and if she chose anyone else, I'd kill him, then her, then myself.

I had never lived before her, not really. Just existed, breathing, surviving, killing time until something finally made it worth keeping.

And if she took that from me?

I didn't think there was a version of me that knew how to go back.

This wasn't...love. No, love was soft, too survivable.

Nothing about what I felt was survivable or gentle by any means.

This was devotion without mercy.

It was a beginning that didn't believe in endings.

We both kept silent, but I had the sense that she'd heard every thought I hadn't said. The green of her eyes darkened, the storm of my feelings wreaking havoc in that garden, tearing it apart and putting it back together in the same breath.

She didn't answer that question. Well, she couldn't when some fucker decided that was the perfect moment to interrupt us.

Christian dropped onto the couch beside her, his mouth curling into an infuriating smile. "Hello there," He said, his eyes flickering from me to my princess, ever so curious about her. I was going to punch him.

I moved from Maria's side and pushed him away, shoving him hard, and settled next to her, keeping a safe distance between the two.

He straightened up with a huff, moved to the opposing couch, his eyebrow raising as if I was unreasonable for not trusting him. I trusted no one when it came to my princess.

His eyes flickered to Maria, who was still standing next to us, gazing at him with a very uncertain look.

He offered her a small smile, to which she narrowed her eyes, "I don't like you," She mumbled lowly, so honest, before she whirled around and ran away, calling for her dad.

Christian frowned. "Uh-huh," he muttered under his breath, watching her go, "my youngest hater, I guess."

I smiled, ever so proud of her, "Well," I said, flashing him a knowing look, "kids have instincts. She loves me but hates you." I shrugged. "Figure it out."

He rolled his eyes, ignoring me, and tilted his head toward Aylin instead. "We didn't really get a chance to properly meet when I first got here," he said smoothly. "I've been dying to meet you again, Aylin."

"I can make that happen," I grumbled, ready to skin him alive, "You know, the dying part."

Aylin blinked, looking between us and trying to figure out what all of this was about. A soft blush crept up her cheeks as she politely smiled, which did absolutely nothing for my sanity.

Christian chuckled. "I mean," he added, his brow lifting as he gave her a knowing look, "we have met before, under very different circumstances. You remember, right?"

My eyebrows pulled closer. I didn't think he meant that one time in my apartment. No, this felt like something else. Something I hadn't been told about. Something I didn't like one bit.

Aylin's shoulders tensed, and the air around her went tight.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, then she nodded once.

Christian carried on, reading my confusion, and taunting me on purpose, "She helped me kidnap Lilly—"

Aylin's eyes widened slightly, "Not kidnap, no," She defended quickly, "You...you said you were going to help her."

His eyebrow raised, "And you chose to believe me?" He asked, challenging her. I really want to fucking punch the twat, why was he teasing her?

Aylin shifted in her seat, just a small movement, but enough for something ugly to claw up my spine. She looked uncomfortable and cornered, and the urge to rearrange Christian's face became more prominent by the second.

No one made my princess uncomfortable.

No one but me.

Yet beneath the irritation, something colder stirred within me, because what exactly had happened here? And why was I hearing about it now?

"I mean, I was honest about my intentions back then," Christian went on lightly, enjoying the chaos a bit too much for my liking, "but a stranger shows up, asks you to help sneak his ex-girlfriend past security, and you just...go along with it?"

My jaw locked, the dots slowly connecting.

"What are you two talking about?" I grumbled, my gaze flicking between them.

Aylin turned to me and swallowed hard. Her brows dipped, mistaking the rage in me for something aimed at her. "This was a while back, before we met," She mumbled, guilt swarming her eyes, as if she owed me an explanation or something.

"I was with Lilly and her family," that was her indirect way of carefully telling me that she was with that fucker.

"And..." She swallowed again, glanced at Christian, then back at me. "There was this...dangerous someone—"

My pulse slowed.

That was never a good sign.

"I don't know if you know this," she continued softly, lines etching her forehead, "but someone was after Lilly and her family, you know...the same person who hurt little Nathan."

Something inside me went very still.

She lifted her hand and pointed at Christian. "He told me that man was coming to take Lilly. He said he wanted to protect her, so I...I helped him."

Oh.

Oh—
Oh.

Right. That. Fuck.

Christian's eyes flicked to me, his mouth twitching, like he'd just dropped a match and was enjoying the wait before everything burned. He will pay for this.

He turned back to Aylin, his tone too casual, "and do you happen to know who that..." His eyes briefly flickered to me, "...dangerous someone was?"

Aylin frowned, shaking her head. "No."

Christian looked back at me, his eyebrow lifting. "Huh," he said. "Interesting."

I shot him a hard glare, sharp enough to cauterize the moment. I needed him to shut the fuck up.

Aylin's brows knit together, the memory resurfacing, the pieces clicking where they'd been buried. "I couldn't ask Lilly after, but..." She blinked, her confused gaze drifting to Christian. "Did he get caught?"

Christian nodded, dragging his thumb over his lower lip, failing to hold back his smile, "Oh yeah," he said, "he got caught alright."

Aylin turned to me, "Did you know about this?" She asked, not accusatory, just so curious, as if confused how we never discussed this topic before.

I nodded, silently.

Her frown deepened, "I think his name was...Louis or something like that," She mumbled, connecting more dots. She hesitated, then looked back at Christian. "I remember Lilly saying that you knew him really well. Didn't you?"

Christian nodded, "Oh yeah, he was my best friend."

Aylin turned to me, unguarded, blissfully unaware of what that history actually meant. Her innocent, confused look did something ugly to my chest. She really didn't know that version of me, not at all...the one that lived before her. The one I would never repent for.

Usually, I own my darkness...heck, I even wear it like a badge, my own form of armor and crown. But this—this felt like something she wouldn't easily forgive, and I didn't know what to do with that fact.

"Did you know him, too?" she asked me, softly.

I inhaled deeply, seeking control.

I nodded, then stood up, too fast, too abrupt, stepping away from the edge before someone noticed how close I'd gotten.

"I need to take a shower," I muttered, already retreating, more like escaping. I shot Christian a look that promised consequences if he so much as breathed one more word.

He gave me a single, silent nod, not willing to add more gasoline to the crackling fire.

I reached the stairs, the tension coiling tight beneath my skin. Halfway up, I didn't bother turning around.

"Everyone better be gone when I come back," I called out loudly to my unwanted guests.

I paused and turned around, my gaze falling back on Aylin, "Except you."

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

Aylin's POV

When I stepped into the room, Nathan was already done with his shower. Cue sad music.

Steam spilled lazily out of the bathroom and into the room. He stepped out just as I reached the doorway, water trailing down his skin, a towel wrapped low around his waist, and another thrown over his head as he dried his hair with distracted movements.

I halted to a stop and stared, because how could I not...

His chest was bare, broad, marked with muscles that looked less sculpted and more earned. Water slid over his pecs, traced the sharp lines of his abdomen, lingered for a sinful second at the deep cut of his V before disappearing beneath the towel.

I swallowed...hard. My throat went dry out of nowhere, which was unfair considering I had literally just had water. This felt personal.

His arms flexed as he scrubbed at his hair, the veins faint but visible beneath his skin, his shoulders rolling slightly with the motion. There was something almost offensive about how effortless he made it look, like existing in that body required no effort at all.

He was always like this—effortlessly funny, effortlessly breathtaking, effortlessly sharp, as if everything about him came naturally and without permission.

Just dangerous, and...beautiful, entirely too much. It was unfair.

My gaze dipped again because, apparently, I had no self-respect today. You'd think after everything we'd shared, every filthy, breathless moment, I'd be immune to him like this.

I was not.

I forced my gaze upward again, but it didn't help. His body was all sharp lines and controlled power, like it was always holding itself back from something violent.

He lowered the towel from his head and finally noticed me.

His beautiful eyes met mine.

God. Help. Me.

His hair was dark and damp, curling slightly at the ends. He winked, ever shameless, "Enjoying the view?"

Heat crawled up my neck. "I—" I hesitated, then gave up pretending. "You didn't close the door."

The corner of his mouth lifted, "I was hoping you'd walk in."

I shot him a pointed look, closed the door myself, and walked further inside, reclaiming at least some dignity.

"Did everyone leave?" he asked as he tossed the small towel aside. I internally prayed he'd toss the bigger one too...focus, Aylin, focus.

I nodded. "Yeah, but Christian's still here."

He rolled his eyes instantly. "Of course he is."

"Next time," he added, entirely too casually, "even if I die, don't call them."

That one little word hit me straight in the chest.

"Don't say that," I mumbled, my voice suddenly small, traitorously shaky.

Nathan blinked, clearly catching the shift in my expression. "I was kidding," he said.

"Don't joke about that," I stressed, stepping closer before I could stop myself. "Last night was horrible," I said, "You wouldn't wake up, you were burning up, and when I saw the blood on the napkin...I didn't know what to do."

I shook my head, forcing the panic down by turning it into anger, it was safer that way.

"And I can't believe that even with your condition, you still smoked," I added, scolding him like that would somehow undo my fear. "How could you be so damn reckless?" I shook my head again, frustration spilling over. "I'll never understand you. You just go on with your day like you're indestructible, like nothing can touch you. You're never careful—"

I raised my hand, it hovered near him, unsure whether to shove his chest or hold onto it.

Probably both, because loving Nathan meant constantly choosing between fury and fear, and never quite knowing which one would win first.

His lips twitched, fighting his smile.

That was my breaking point.

"What are you smiling at?" I demanded, shoving his chest and punctuating it with a light punch.

Big mistake.

He caught my wrist instantly, pressing it flat against his chest before his other hand slid to my waist and yanked me closer. I crashed into him, a startled breath tearing from my lungs.

"I think I like it when you fuss over me," He murmered.

I glared up at him. "Shut up," I grumbled, furious at the way I was turned on and far too aware of the way his body fit against mine. God, how could he be hard already?

"Shut me up," he replied, that wicked, effortless smile tugging at his mouth.

He didn't wait for me to do it.

His fingers hooked under my chin, tilting my face up just enough, and then his mouth crashed into mine, so hard, unapologetic, like he'd been holding back all morning and finally snapped. The sound that left me was helpless and aching, swallowed immediately by his kiss.

My hand slid up his chest on instinct, over muscles still warm from the shower, my palm skimming the solid heat of him. I traced upward, slowly and greedily over the line of his throat, feeling the way he swallowed beneath my touch.

My fingers tangled in his damp hair as I rose onto my toes, desperate to get closer, deeper, like I could crawl inside the heat of him and disappear there completely.

Nathan's grip tightened at my waist, moving beneath the fabric, his fingers digging in my skin just enough to send a sharp tremor through me. His other hand slid up, his thumb brushing the corner of my jaw, guiding, angling, claiming, tilting my face exactly how he wanted it.

He kissed me like he was rewiring my breath, like he was daring my lungs to depend on him.

Thinking was impossible when he did that.

Breathing, optional.

Feeling anything that wasn't him? A joke.

I clutched his shoulders, grounding myself in the way his body pressed into mine. His breath was warm against my mouth, uneven now, the faintest groan vibrating through his chest the moment my teeth closed around his lower lip.

That sound...God, it was a problem.

It shot straight through me, made the want claw hotter, fiercer. Unrestrained. It tugged something wicked awake under my skin, something that didn't know how to be gentle, something that felt entirely too much like him.

He was doing this to me, undoing me, making me like him, so addicted and obsessed, ruined in the exact shape of his hands.

This man...he was a disease, and I wasn't just infected, no, I was terminal.

When we pulled back, I rested my palm against his cheek, my thumb brushing gently beneath his eye. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself from now on," I murmured, needing the reassurance.

He nodded once before his hand came up, curling around mine, guiding it slightly lower, closer to his mouth. He pressed slow, gentle kisses to my fingers, one by one, over the faint scars that were finally beginning to heal and fade.

"Can you teach me how?" he asked softly. His fingers slid from my hand to my arm, brushing carefully over the bandage there.

"You already know how," I said, my gaze following the movement of his, remembering how he'd been the one to change the dressing, how he kept applying ointment, checking it without being asked, "You take care of me all the time."

A low breath left his chest as his gaze flickered to my face, something conflicted passing through his eyes, "That's easy, it's instinct with you," He admitted, "Looking after myself though...that goes against every instinct I have."

I shook my head at this ridiculous, impossible man. He was one of a kind. "Then I'll look after you," I said simply.

His mouth curved into something soft and almost surprised, his head tilting slightly. "I think I like the sound of that."

I smiled back until the weight of yesterday pressed in again. My brows knit together as I remembered everything we'd survived in the last hours.

"Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?" I asked.

His smile faded, and he sighed, "It is not important."

"It is important," I insisted, "A birthday is that one day a year that should be special for each person," I added, "I wish you'd told me. We could've done something together. I would've at least gotten you a gift." I shook my head. "I honestly can't believe you sometimes."

"Why should it be one day only? It makes no sense," he said, with his unhinged Nathany logic. His brow lifted slightly. "You can celebrate my awesome existence every day," he continued. "You've got three hundred and sixty-five opportunities. Use them all."

"Don't limit me to one day," He added, winking smugly, "Don't reduce me to a calendar reminder, princess, you know I'm far more demanding than that."

I sighed, "You're so ridiculous."

"So are you," He said with his signature boyish smile. "Now, do you want my suggestions for the possible gifts you could get for me?" He carried on, and I knew, with absolute clarity, that I had just walked straight into another one of his traps.

"Here we go..." I muttered, already resigning myself to whatever nonsense was coming.

"You can give me your full dedication to have at least three hundred and sixty-five sex sessions, and we can renew the contract next year," He suggested, then paused, his brows pulling closer, "But wait, that means only once a day, no, unacceptable. Can we double it? Triple, if we're being ambitious?"

My lips twitched despite my best efforts. I gave in completely. I was so far gone, it was honestly pathetic. May all the gods be with me. "Then I guess we'd better start immediately," I said, indulging him, "so we don't fall behind on your...yearly quota."

He chuckled lowly, pleased in a way that made heat crawl up my neck. His hand slid to my thigh, gripping firmly as he hauled me up against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck instinctively. He dipped his head, his eyes darkening as his breath brushed my skin.

Then, he kissed me once, so slowly as if to savor every bit of me.

"You're my gift, princess," he murmured against my mouth, his voice dropping into something honest beneath the madness, "I don't need anything or anyone else."

My back met the mattress, and his words triggered that feeling in me again. The answer to Maria's question sat heavy on my tongue, burning me and refusing to be spoken.

I wasn't sure I could ever say it out loud.

Admitting it to myself already felt like stepping off a ledge. Saying it to him felt like handing myself over completely. Besides...Nathan was unlike anyone I'd ever known. I didn't know what love looked like in his world, or in his head.

"Nathan," Christian's voice cut through the moment, scattering my thoughts, followed by an irritating knock on the door. "Which room's mine?" he called, clearly enjoying the timing. "I need to shower and change."

Another knock, louder, "Nathan...come on."

Nathan groaned against my lips, pure frustration vibrating through him. He pulled back, his jaw ticking, "I'm going to kill him and be back," he muttered. "Stay where you are."

He grabbed a pair of pants and a T-shirt, tugging them on with rushed, angry movements before storming out. The door shut behind him, their arguing bled into the hallway as I stared up at the ceiling, my heart still racing wildly.

The thought settled in. So heavy, and painful.

What if he doesn't...love me?

Nathan did everything for me...I couldn't deny that. He wrapped his entire world around mine, rearranged himself to fit my edges, and wanted me with an intensity that should've left no room for doubt.

But obsession and love weren't the same thing.

Obsession was fire, consuming, impossible to ignore...and fire, no matter how fierce, always burned out eventually.

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening.

I didn't know if the version of me he wanted, the one he clung to so fiercely, would still be enough when the smoke finally cleared out.

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

Nathan's POV

Something was wrong.

I could feel it.

Aylin had been off since the morning. Subtle enough that anyone else would miss it...well, not me.

I ran through the possible reasons behind her bad energy like a deranged checklist.

One, Natalie's doctor friend was out of town, so we booked the appointment for tomorrow instead, right after her flight. When I told her, she nodded, and something in her dimmed further, like I'd just reminded her of a locked door she wasn't ready to open yet.

I hated that.

Two, Christian.

That insolent twat. That walking liability had said too much this morning, way too much. Had she started connecting dots? Seeing cracks? Piecing together the parts of me I didn't want her to see? I fucking hope not. It was still too early for her to see all of me. Also, objectively, too early for me to lock her in if she tried to escape.

So, naturally, I punched Christian really hard in the face when that thought spiraled too far. It helped. Temporarily.

After that, I suggested we drop by the marina and have a little walk. She loved it here. Her face actually brightened when I said it, which I counted as a personal victory and immediately internalized as proof that I knew her better than anyone else ever would.

I bought her that tasteless green swamp she pretended was drinkable and watched her sip it slowly, one hand tucked into her jacket's pocket as we walked.

For a moment, all of that worked.

Then her energy dipped again as she stared out at the sea.

The cold set in, so I grabbed the beanie from my car and pulled it down over her ears. She looked ridiculous, and so goddamn adorable it hurt. Her nose went red, her lips pouty, her eyes far away like she was thinking thoughts I wasn't invited into.

My chest clenched, violently.

I wanted to bite her red nose, then kiss those pouty lips until she forgets whatever was haunting her, then shake the thoughts out of her head and replace them with me.

Healthy coping mechanisms. Obviously.

I playfully nudged her with my elbow before I could overthink it.

She blinked, her gaze tearing away from the sea, and looked at me. "Yeah?"

My brows pulled together. "Are you mad at me or something?"

She frowned, genuinely confused. "What—no. Why?"

"You're too quiet," I muttered.

She shook her head. "No, why would I be mad at you?"

"Well," I said, "I'm always misbehaving, statistically speaking, I must've done something."

A smile broke over her lips, and I finally inhaled. She pulled her hand out of her pocket and hooked her arm through mine, leaning into me. Yay. "I'm not mad at you," she murmured. "You silly man."

I lowered my head and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She melted into me further, and my brain immediately stopped spinning.

"Oh—wait," I said casually. "I just remembered something."

She pulled back, "What?"

"I'm actually the one who's mad at you."

Her brows furrowed. "Why?"

"You agreed for us to spend Christmas at Natalie's place," I said, lifting a brow. "What have I ever done to deserve punishment on that level?"

She smiled and shook her head, "Come on," she said. "Christmas is about spending time with family. I've spent it with just my grandpa for years, and he won't be here next week. It'll be nice to spend it with yours."

There it was again.

My family.

I grimaced.

"I would genuinely rather spend Christmas with your grandfather over this nonsense."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be dramatic. It'll be fun. Don't you like Christmas?"

I stared at her. Does she not know me at all? "No."

"Why not?"

"What's to like?" I asked. "There are trees everywhere. Why do people feel the need to abduct one, drag it into their living room, decorate it, and then gather around it like that's so normal?"

I rolled my eyes, "What kind of ritual is that?"

"It's festive," she said, her lips twitching at the mere thought. "And cozy, and it's an excuse to get gifts and drink eggnog and hot cocoa." Her smile softened. "It's my favorite season."

I watched her say that, watched the warmth in her eyes, and that quiet, silly happiness.

Just like that, I knew.

I was doomed.

I sighed internally, already picturing myself committing crimes against my own personality and making my house all Christmasy for her. Damn it. Where does one even buy a Christmas tree? I need to ask Natalie...

As Aylin started gushing about shopping, her gift lists, and wrapping paper, the universe finally took pity on me, and the sky cracked open, rain pouring down hard enough to end the nauseating discussion.

I quickly dragged her toward the car, ever so thankful for the rain.

Just as I reached for the keys, something small and fast, resembling a rat, shot out from under the car. It quickly climbed up Aylin's leg, trying to claw its way to salvation.

Oh, wait, not a rat, it was a small kitten.

Aylin shrieked, "Ahh!" She stumbled back, shaking her leg wildly, but the tiny creature only clung harder, its claws scrabbling desperately, "Nathan, get it off me!"

I crouched immediately as the poor thing let out a thin, panicked cry, its claws grasping at survival more than fear.

It was a soaked, trembling little grey kitten, so skinny and scruffy, with cute eyes too big for its tiny face.

"Hey," I murmured softly. "Hey there, little one."

I carefully pried it loose and lifted it into my hands. The kitten trembled violently, its tiny body shaking as it buried itself into my palms, so desperate for warmth. "You're freaking out my princess, you know," I added under my breath, smoothing a thumb over its tiny head.

Aylin stood frozen a few steps away, half-panting, staring at the little baby like it might explode.

"I am not freaking out," she said weakly.

The kitten let out a loud, needy meow and pressed its face into my hands, rain matting its fur, its weak ribs too easy to feel.

"Oh, you poor little thing," I whispered as I stroked its head gently, and it immediately melted, clinging harder, crawling up my chest like it had decided I was its new life plan.

Aylin swallowed hard, stepping away from me, "Just...put it down, or something."

I frowned at her. "It would die, it's already freezing," I carresed the back of its head, "and hungry, and probably sick."

As if to prove my point, the kitten scrambled even higher, burying itself against my neck, its claws hooking into my jacket like I was the only safe place left in the world.

I held it instinctively, shielding it away from the rain.

Aylin's face went pale. "It's...it's climbing on you."

"Yes," I said calmly and winked, "I've been chosen."

Aylin stared at me, ever so horrified.

"There's a shelter nearby," I added, glancing at her. "Let's drop it there."

The kitten meowed again, softer this time, and tucked its face under my chin.

When I walked closer to the car, Aylin immediately took three steps back, as if she were avoiding a live grenade. I popped the trunk, dug out an old shirt, and wrapped the shivering little thing carefully. It clung tighter to the fabric, its tiny body vibrating.

When I moved back, Aylin kept eyeing the cat like it might jump and scratch her face. Her throat bobbed, and I couldn't help but smile.

"You're scared?" I asked.

Her eyes flicked up to me. "Uh—no," she said quickly.

Her body screamed yes.

I chuckled and opened her door. "Then get in and hold it while I drive."

She froze.

Then, she looked behind her, then at the car, then back at me. I could practically hear her calculating an escape route.

With the most cautious, hesitant steps imaginable, she climbed in. When I gently placed the kitten—now wrapped snugly in my shirt—into her lap, she winced like she expected it to explode.

The kitten promptly fell asleep.

Full-on snoring. Loudly.

Aylin stayed perfectly still, her arms hovering stiffly at her sides, her eyes locked on it like it was a ticking bomb.

I chuckled as I shut the door and slid into the driver's seat.

Aylin didn't move an inch, didn't even blink.

"I think it likes you," I said.

Her voice came out strained. "It's breathing."

"Yes," I replied. "That's generally a good sign, you know?"

She swallowed hard, staring straight ahead, still refusing to touch it.

I smiled to myself as I pulled the car forward.

"Princess," I said gently, reaching over and rubbing a finger over the kitten's tiny head, "relax. It's literally the size of your palm. It's not going to harm you."

Aylin grimaced, "Don't...don't wake it up," She screehced, way too panicked.

I chuckled at this silly girl of mine.

She snapped her head toward me. "Don't laugh," she grumbled. "I have bad memories, okay? When I was young, the neighbor's cat used to scratch me all the time. I hated it."

I laughed again.

She glared harder. "This is not funny."

"It is a little funny," I said.

Of all the things I knew about her...this? This was new. My princess was scared of cats. Unbelievable, and just so ridiculously adorable.

When I parked the car near the shelter's entrance. Aylin looked down, then back at me, "You'll take it, right?" She said, so stiff, "Just...take it, please."

I shook my head and leaned closer. "Come here," I murmured, carefully lifting the tiny bundle.

The kitten woke instantly, stretching its little body before letting out a soft, raspy meow.

Aylin gasped like it had threatened her life.

I stepped out of the car and headed inside, the kitten tucked safely against my chest. Aylin followed a few cautious steps behind, her eyes darting all around as if scared that more harmless animals were going to attack her.

The moment we walked in, a voice called out—

"Nathan?"

I looked up.

Jonah, a man in his late forties who ran this place, emerged from the back storage room, wiping his hands on a towel as he walked over.

"Thought it was you," he said with a knowing smile. "What did you bring me this time?"

Aylin slowed behind me, her eyebrows pulling closer as she looked at the man, then back at me.

"Found her under my car," I said. "Cold, hungry, a bit dramatic," I glanced at my princess, "and apparently terrifying."

Aylin shot me a glare.

Jonah chuckled and softened immediately when he saw the kitten. "Hey there," he murmured, gently taking her from my hands with practiced care.

He inspected her quickly. "Oh, she's so tiny. Probably hasn't eaten properly in a while."

He set her carefully on the desk, then disappeared and returned with a small syringe filled with warm kitten formula. The kitten latched on instantly, mewling like she'd been personally wronged by the delay.

Aylin watched from a very respectable, very safe distance, equal parts fascinated and deeply unsettled.

Once fed, the kitten wriggled free, and without hesitation, she launched herself straight back at me. Aylin yelped and physically jumped away like she'd been ambushed.

Jonah laughed. "Relax," he said kindly. "She just chose him."

I lifted a brow, rubbing my hand over the kitten's tiny head. "See?" I said smugly. "Excellent instincts on this one."

Jonah smiled. "Why don't you take this one home with you?"

It sounded appealing, really, but the second I looked at Aylin, at the tension in her shoulders, at the fear still lingering in her eyes as she eyed the kitten like it might grow fangs.

Yeah. No.

I couldn't. My princess always came first.

I shook my head and reluctantly peeled the kitten off my jacket, handing her back to Jonah. She protested immediately, meowing loudly and squirming.

I chuckled and tapped her head gently. "I'll come visit you," I muttered. "Don't worry."

Jonah laughed and gathered her up, heading toward the back clinic. "See you," he called over his shoulder.

When he disappeared, I turned back to Aylin. She looked less terrified now, more curious than anything. I slipped an arm around her waist and guided her back outside.

"Do you come here often?" She asked.

I shrugged.

She narrowed her eyes at me, "Who knew the infamous Nathan Viarchi had a soft spot for cats," she teased.

My eyebrow raised, "Animals are harmless as long as you don't hurt them," I said, opening her door, "Humans, on the other hand?" I clicked my tongue. "Not so much."

I drove off, and after a very unnecessary, very long argument, Aylin forced me to drop her off at her place.

"I'm never at my apartment anymore because of you," she whined. "I need to tidy up, check my mail, and I also have laundry to do—stop rolling your eyes," She grumbeld and punctuated that last part by punching my arm.

"Also," she added as we walked toward her building, "Christian is at your place. You should spend some time with him."

"I want to spend time with you," I stated, "I don't care about him."

I needed to kick him out. Immediately. He was threatening my Aylin-time.

"Don't say that," she scolded, unlocking her door and scooping up a pile of envelopes from the mailbox. "He came all this way for you."

I huffed, eternally offended by this turn of events.

Inside, she dropped the envelopes on the counter and shrugged out of her wet jacket. "I'll quickly change and be back," she said, her eyes flickering over me with a sigh, "You too, dry yourself, you'll get sick again, quick." She issued her order and disappeared down the hallway.

I huffed loudly, so she could hear it, then my eyes drifted to the pile of mail she'd just abandoned. The mail she'd insisted was important. Bullshit.

I flipped through them, all insignificant, Bank. Utility bill. Some aggressively beige envelope from a telecom company. Another bank.

I paused, stopping at the one envelope that stood out, sitting at the bottom of the pile. It was plain, white, with no address, no name, no return information, nothing.

Curiosity didn't get the best of me...instinct did, and I tore it open.

Inside was a small, folded piece of paper.

The moment I opened it, something cold slid straight down my spine. My breath slowed to a crawl, the room dimming, pulling in on itself like it was holding its own breath with me.

My grip tightened. The paper crumpled slightly in my fist, my knuckles whitening as something ugly coiled tight in my chest.

"You never should've felt safe again
some people are meant to stay afraid
forever.
But I see the way you relax into his arms
like you forgot what danger feels like,
danger doesn't forget you, Aylin,
and I won't let you forget me either.

—R"

⊹˚₊‧─────────────────────‧₊˚⊹

Author's note:

Hey! It's me again :)

I hope you liked the chapter.

Also, would you believe that Nathan, the same Nathan who is obsessed with Aylin to the point of madness, would be the one to walk away?

Hehe, let that sink in ;)

As a little Christmas gift from me to you, I'm planning for the chapter dropping on Christmas to be fun, cute, chaotic, and full of family moments.
So if there's any specific interaction, scene, or unhinged-but-cute moment you'd love to see, drop it below and I'll do my best to sneak it in.

See ya soon 🩶