The night grew quiet after the security man left.
Aria stood near the window, staring outside, even though she knew there was nothing to see. Cars passed once in a while. A dog barked somewhere far away. Everything looked normal.
But nothing felt normal.
Behind her, Adrian sat on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the floor. He looked calm, but Aria could sense the tension in him. It was the kind that didn't show on the surface.
She finally turned around.
"You don't have to stay," she said gently. "I don't want you to feel trapped."
Adrian lifted his head. "I'm not staying because I have to."
That made her pause.
"Then why?" she asked.
He took a moment before answering. "Because leaving feels like the wrong choice."
The honesty in his voice surprised her.
Aria walked back to the table and sat down slowly. "This isn't your responsibility alone," she said. "I don't want you blaming yourself for everything."
Adrian looked at her then. "I already do."
She frowned. "That's not fair to you."
"Maybe," he said. "But it doesn't change how I feel."
The room fell silent again. Not uncomfortable—just full.
Aria wrapped her hands around her mug even though the tea had gone cold.
"When I helped you that night," she said quietly, "I didn't think it would lead to all this. But I also don't regret it."
Adrian studied her face. "You should have run."
"I know," she said. "But I didn't."
He smiled faintly. "That's what scares me."
She raised an eyebrow. "Me?"
"You're brave in a way that doesn't look brave," he said. "You don't make noise about it. You just act."
Aria felt heat rise to her cheeks. "I was terrified."
"That doesn't cancel it out."
She looked away, embarrassed. Compliments still felt strange to her, especially from someone like him.
Time passed slowly.
The clock ticked softly on the wall. Outside, the streetlight flickered once, then steadied.
Adrian stood up. "I should check the perimeter."
Aria sighed. "You sound like you're at work."
He gave a small smile. "Old habits."
He moved toward the door, careful and quiet. Aria watched him, noticing how alert he was, how nothing escaped his attention.
When he came back, he nodded. "Everything looks fine."
She relaxed slightly. "Good."
He didn't sit down this time. He stayed standing, hands in his pockets.
"You're thinking about something," Aria said.
He hesitated. "Yes."
"Then say it."
He looked at her seriously. "If things get worse, I may ask you to stay somewhere else. Somewhere safer."
Her stomach tightened. "Away from you?"
"From danger," he corrected gently.
"But you're part of the danger," she said, not accusing, just stating a fact.
He didn't deny it.
"I won't force you," he said. "I just need you to know that option exists."
Aria thought for a moment. "And what do you want?"
He didn't answer right away.
"I want you safe," he said finally. "Even if that means I'm not close."
The words hit her harder than she expected.
"That sounds lonely," she said softly.
He met her eyes. "It is."
Aria stood up and walked toward him. Not too close. Just enough to close the distance.
"You don't always have to carry things alone," she said.
He looked at her like he wanted to say more, but didn't know how.
"I'm not good at this," he admitted. "Letting people in."
"I noticed," she said with a small smile.
That made him relax a little.
The hour grew late.
Aria yawned without meaning to, then laughed quietly. "Sorry."
"You should sleep," Adrian said. "You've had enough for one day."
She nodded. "You too."
He hesitated. "I can take the couch."
She blinked. "You don't have to—"
"I want to," he said. "Just for tonight."
She studied his face, then nodded. "Alright."
She handed him a blanket. Their fingers brushed for a second. Neither of them pulled away immediately.
"Goodnight, Adrian," she said.
"Goodnight, Aria."
She walked toward her bedroom, then paused at the door.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For staying."
He looked up. "Thank you for letting me."
She closed the door softly behind her.
Lying in bed, Aria stared at the ceiling.
Her life had shifted in a way she didn't fully understand yet. Fear was there, yes—but so was something else. Something warm. Something steady.
In the other room, Adrian lay awake on the couch, eyes open, listening to the quiet sounds of her apartment.
Staying was dangerous.
Leaving would have been easier.
But for the first time in years, he didn't want easy.
And that scared him more than any enemy ever could.