The elevator rose in silence, the only sound being the soft hum of the mechanism as Elena tried—and completely failed—to keep the whirlwind of emotions inside her under control.
A whirlwind that had started the exact instant the two of them stepped into the elevator. It was as if, suddenly, the penny had finally dropped: she was going to be alone with Ryan again. In his apartment. At night.
The kind of situation that, years ago, had led them to share a very intimate moment… and that now made her stomach twist and her skin heat up in a way that was impossible to ignore.
She tried to play it cool.
"So…" Elena cleared her throat, staring at the elevator's glowing panel. "You mentioned the floors are all empty. But… what's actually on them? Apartments like yours?"
Ryan kept his hands in his pockets while watching her from the corner of his eye, as if he found her attempt at distraction amusing.
"More or less. Each floor has a different layout. Some are bigger, some smaller." He gave a small, almost nonchalary nod. "You can see everything later if you want. We can explore together."
Explore together.
Her heart tugged at an inner string that made her stomach flip.
"I… think that's a good idea," Elena managed to say, even though her voice sounded a little lower than usual. "Yeah. That would be nice."
Ryan didn't reply; he just smiled calmly.
The elevator chimed and the doors slid open on the fifth floor.
The hallway was silent, lit by recessed lights and decorated in a modern style Elena would never have associated with Mystic Falls. Ryan walked to the door at the end of the corridor and pulled a key from his pocket.
When he unlocked it, the metallic click echoed with a domestic familiarity that affected Elena more than it should have.
The door opened.
And the air nearly left her lungs.
The apartment was… beautiful.
Comfortable yet refined. Modern yet welcoming.
Dark wood furniture, light-colored upholstery, paintings positioned with almost artistic precision. The soft glow from the balcony spilled inside—not aggressively, just enough to enhance the space.
Elena took a step forward, taking in every detail.
"Ryan…" Her voice came out breathless. "This place is… incredible."
He simply smiled as he turned on a few more lights, revealing warm glows throughout the room.
"I'm glad you like it." He headed toward the kitchen. "I'll make the popcorn. Make yourself at home. Look around as much as you want."
Elena nodded, still awestruck.
"Okay… I'll… um… look around a bit, then."
She allowed herself to walk slowly through the apartment.
Her heart raced when she noticed his bedroom door was slightly ajar, and a wave of heat rose through her body as her mind began to picture certain scenarios. She tried to ignore it and walked to the balcony instead. Outside, the balcony offered a view that didn't seem to belong to little Mystic Falls at all: wide, elevated, and so far above the quiet streets below that it felt like being in an entirely different place.
When she returned to the living room, her heart sped up again.
The space felt even larger than it had at first glance.
The living room had huge windows that displayed downtown Mystic Falls like a living postcard. Orange and white lights twinkled softly on the horizon, reflected in the glass. The light-beige sofa looked so inviting it made anyone want to collapse onto it and forget the world. The dark-wood coffee table contrasted beautifully with the plush gray rug that looked soft enough to sink one's feet into.
The slim TV took up the wall without being overpowering, and beneath it was a shelf holding books, a few CDs, old cassettes, and a modest but carefully curated collection of rare vinyl records.
Elena ran her fingers along one of the vinyl sleeves without actually touching it, just tracing the outline with her eyes.
She finally sat on the sofa, taking a deep breath. Her hands gripped the soft fabric, and she tried to focus… but the scent from his coat still clung to her, and the distant sounds of Ryan in the kitchen only made everything feel more real.
Her heart was beating far too fast. Anxiety. Anticipation. And something warm, familiar, and inevitable growing inside her.
It was as if, in that moment, she had traveled back in time… back to the feeling that had always existed between them and had never truly died.
And now… they were alone.
Elena bit her lip without realizing it.
Of course Ryan was right.
She still did that when she was thinking too hard.
Trying to ignore her racing thoughts and pounding heart, Elena absent-mindedly ran her hand along the sofa and found a small, smooth white remote wedged between the cushions. She lifted it, recognizing the blue symbol in the corner. Air conditioning.
"Ah…" she murmured, more to herself than anything.
She pressed the button. A soft beep sounded, followed by the quiet hum of the ventilation starting. A warm breeze began to flow through the room. She exhaled slowly, feeling her shoulders relax a little.
With the apartment now more comfortable, Elena finally took off the overcoat Ryan had lent her earlier. For some reason—maybe his kindness, maybe the faint scent that still lingered in the fabric—she folded it with excessive, almost ceremonial care before raising her voice:
"Ryan! Where should I put your coat?"
From the kitchen, the sound of popcorn starting to pop answered for him before his calm, steady voice did:
"Just toss it in the washing machine! Laundry room's down the hall, second door on the right!"
"Got it!"
Elena stood, still holding the neatly folded coat, and walked down the hallway.
She opened the second door.
She was right.
The laundry room looked more like something out of an architecture magazine than anything she'd ever imagine in Mystic Falls. The walls were covered in light-gray tiles with a subtle satin sheen. All surfaces were polished stainless steel that reflected her silhouette. Floating tempered-glass shelves were perfectly aligned, some holding dark fabric storage baskets—everything matching in an almost minimalist way.
The washing machine was modern in a way Elena couldn't quite describe: large, silent, with a blue-lit digital panel. Beside it, an equally sophisticated dryer formed a built-in pair, both perfectly set into a dark stone countertop that gave the space an almost urban, cosmopolitan feel far too sophisticated for their small town.
Elena opened the lid, placed the coat inside with the same care she'd used to fold it, and closed it again.
The soft click of the lid echoed in the small room.
For a moment she just stood there, realizing how completely different all of this was from the life she used to lead.
She took a deep breath and returned to the hallway.
The cool air from the AC greeted her as she stepped back into the living room.
The space felt even more comfortable now.
Elena sat on the sofa again. The soft fabric molded to her body, and as she tucked one leg beneath the other she realized she was still wearing her shoes. In an automatic, slightly embarrassed gesture, she quickly slipped them off with short, silent movements.
Holding the shoes, she walked to the entryway to leave them there discreetly, as if trying not to be noticed.
But when she turned—
"Trying to make yourself more at home?"
She jumped.
Ryan was leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed over his chest. His smile was small but carried that quiet intensity that always made Elena's heart beat faster. Her body reacted before her mind could form a coherent response.
"I… just—"
"There are slippers in the laundry room…" he said gently, cutting her off. "You can wear them. They're comfortable."
Her heart gave another leap, this time for very different reasons. Elena nodded, trying to keep at least a shred of composure, but Ryan continued, his voice carrying an almost teasing naturalness:
"I came to ask what you want to drink?" He tilted his head just enough to seem both casual and suggestive at once. "Whisky and energy drink… or one of my Japanese cocktails?"
She blinked, surprised and a little amused.
"Anything is fine…" she murmured, letting the end of her sentence carry a soft tone she herself recognized as flirtatious. "I trust you."
Ryan's smile grew more satisfied.
"Then I'll make it good."
He turned and walked back to the kitchen with calm steps, and Elena realized she'd been holding her breath since he appeared behind her.
"Right… slippers…" she muttered to herself, trying to regain some sense of normalcy.
Elena walked back down the hall to the laundry room. She opened the small side cabinet and found the slippers: soft, gray, new enough to look barely used. They seemed more like something bought because "it looked nice in the space" than something actually worn daily.
Even so, when she slipped them on, the immediate comfort enveloped her feet.
"Better…" she whispered, enjoying the feeling for a moment.
Elena returned to the living room with light steps, trying to act as though her heart wasn't racing as hard as it was. The soft slippers absorbed every footfall, making everything even quieter—too quiet, considering how loud her mind was.
She sat on the sofa, settling on the side that naturally offered the best view of the kitchen… and of the path Ryan would take when he returned. She took a deep breath, trying to look at the TV, the rug, anything that wouldn't betray her growing anxiety.
His voice came soon after, steady, calm, almost intimate given the short distance:
"Elena, you can turn on the TV."
"Ah—sure!" She answered a little too quickly, as if caught off guard by her own presence.
She grabbed the remote from the coffee table and pressed the button. The large screen lit the room with a soft blue glow. A neatly organized streaming menu appeared, suggestions lined up by category.
But Elena didn't even have time to think about what to choose.
A few minutes later, Ryan appeared in her field of vision.
And for one brief, completely irrational moment, Elena forgot how to breathe.
He was holding a large bowl of popcorn in one hand while raising a big, elegant metallic cup with the other—clearly expensive—from which he took a short sip. It looked somewhere between a stylized Stanley and a modern cocktail glass, but imposing in a way that suited him perfectly.
The warm room lighting hit Ryan's face at the perfect angle—of course it did—highlighting his strong features, sharp jawline, broad shoulders under the dark t-shirt, and those green eyes. Even the way he walked seemed designed to provoke something in her…
"It's pretty good…" he commented, handing her the cup to try as casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Elena took it. The cold metal contrasted with the warmth of his hand that seemed to linger. She brought it to her lips.
The flavor hit her immediately.
Sweet. Refreshing. Delicate.
With a subtle citrus note and a gentle, almost hidden alcohol warmth.
She blinked, surprised.
"Ryan… this is really good. What is it?"
He gave a small smile, that mix of pride and deliberate charm.
"A Japanese highball. Just whisky, ice, and soda water—but done right."
Elena took another, longer sip. The drink was truly perfect. Elegant and simple, like him.
"You… definitely know what you're doing."
"I warned you," Ryan replied with the slightest raise of an eyebrow before placing the large popcorn bowl in the middle of the sofa, within reach of both of them.
He then stepped away, heading toward the hallway.
"Gonna grab my slippers. Pick a movie while I'm gone."
"Okay…" Elena murmured automatically.
But she didn't pick anything. She couldn't.
Because Elena was too busy watching Ryan walk away.
The way his t-shirt outlined every line of his back. The precise way the fabric followed the movement of his shoulders.
She forced herself to blink, as if that could restore at least a minimum of focus and keep her from looking completely mesmerized when he returned.
Ryan was back in less than a minute.
Elena heard his footsteps first and felt her stomach tighten in an almost annoying way. When he appeared in the hallway, now wearing black slippers that looked fresh out of the box, she had to remind herself to breathe.
He didn't say anything right away.
Ryan sat beside her on the sofa.
Elena's breath faltered as his weight sank part of the cushion, causing the upholstery to dip slightly toward her, bringing them closer through simple physics.
He rested one arm along the backrest behind her—a natural, spacious movement that somehow made his presence even larger. His subtle scent immediately invaded her senses; he really did smell incredibly good…
Not entirely trusting her voice, Elena simply held the metallic cup back out to him.
Ryan tilted his face slightly, accepting the cup with a gentle brush of his fingers against hers—a quick contact, but deliberate enough to send a warm current up her arm…
"So?" he asked, bringing the cup to his lips. "Approved?"
"No… approved is too mild," Elena managed, even if her voice wasn't as steady as she wished. "This is perfect."
Ryan drank calmly, unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. The motion made the muscles in his neck tense slightly, then relax, and Elena thought it unfair that even that was attractive…
He lowered the cup and looked at her.
Those green eyes—calm but attentive.
"Good thing you like it."
His voice sounded lower than before, lightly husky from the sip he'd just taken.
He set the cup on the coffee table; the metal made a muted sound against the surface.
Then he leaned back again.
The arm along the backrest stayed where it was.
Close enough for Elena to feel his warmth.
Close enough that if she leaned her head just a little…
She would rest against him.
Ryan let the silence stretch for a few more seconds. Then, with his usual effortless casualness, he broke it:
"So…" his voice low and enveloping. "What are we watching?"
Elena blinked, returning to reality after several long seconds lost only in his presence.
"Oh… right. The movie." She straightened a little, trying to appear more rational than she actually felt.
Ryan arched an eyebrow, amused.
"You didn't pick anything while I went for the slippers, did you?"
"I… was evaluating options," Elena lied as transparently as possible.
His smile appeared, sending butterflies through her stomach…
"Right…" he said, leaning slightly toward the remote beside her. "Let's choose together."
Elena grabbed the remote before he could—maybe too fast, maybe too close—and Ryan's thumb brushed hers for less than a second.
But it was enough to steal her breath again.
He didn't comment. Just settled calmly back against the sofa.
"By category?" Ryan suggested, in that neutral tone only he could make sound faintly provocative. "Thriller, romance, horror, comedy?"
"Thriller works…" Elena answered, repeating to herself that it was just a movie and not an excuse to keep letting herself be carried by the tension hanging between them. In truth, she hadn't been able to concentrate since the moment she stepped into his apartment. Her heart remained in turmoil, refusing to calm, while her thoughts kept returning to that night. A memory that made her wish it would all happen again… but this time, just the two of them, without her friends involved.
"Thriller?" Ryan tilted his head. "We have plenty of options. Let's see…"
She opened the older movies catalog, and Ryan leaned in just enough to see the screen with her. Shoulder, arm, warmth. All too close, yet he acted as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"Look," Elena pointed at the screen. "The Shining."
Ryan let out a soft laugh.
"Classic… though I've never seen it. People say it's good, but will you actually be able to pay attention? I hear it has a lot of special effects…"
"I can," Elena rolled her eyes. "But if you don't want that one, there are others… There's The Village. 2004. That one's good."
"Yeah," Ryan agreed. "But it's slow. You always get restless with slow movies."
"I do not."
"You do."
Elena crossed her arms, glancing at him sideways. "Fine. You suggest something."
He scanned a few options on the screen, his shoulder brushing hers from the sheer proximity, and she felt it…
"The Prestige," he suggested. "2006. Smart, gripping… and it doesn't let you look away."
"Okay," Elena admitted. "That one really is great."
"There's also The Departed. 2006." He let out an appreciative sigh. "Scorsese, you know."
She bit the corner of her lip. "But it's long."
"Long isn't a problem," Ryan said low, and Elena noticed that every sentence he spoke tonight seemed laced with deliberate innuendo…
She pressed her lips together, turning back to the catalog. "Then… Batman Begins? 2005."
Ryan tilted his head, almost smiling.
"You want to watch a superhero movie now?"
"Maybe," Elena answered with intentional lightness. "Would that be a problem?"
"Depends…" he replied. "If you start comparing Bruce to someone…"
The green gaze on her made it clear who she would compare him to.
"…then it might be a problem."
Elena let out a small, nervous laugh, trying to escape the obvious trap.
"Okay, let's make a short list," she said, finally regaining a sliver of control. "Three options."
Ryan nodded slowly.
"Three."
Elena took a deep breath and listed:
"The Village."
"The Prestige."
"Batman Begins."
Ryan repeated the titles, weighing them as if they were important.
"Good list…" he murmured.
"See?" Elena smiled, proud. "I can choose."
He turned his face fully toward her—calm, tranquil, dangerously close.
"I can see that."
She swallowed hard.
"And now?" she asked.
Ryan shifted on the sofa, a subtle movement that brought their knees closer, that nearly brushed her thigh with his hand on the backrest.
"Now," he said with that intimate calm only he possessed, "you pick among the three."