Alastair sank into the chair, staring at the empty doorway long after the sound of Zander's footsteps faded. His chest felt tight, as if the air itself had been pulled from the room. He tried to focus on the page in front of him, but the words blurred, meaningless.
He could still feel Zander's presence—the weight of it, the unspoken command that had settled over the room. The way his gaze had searched him, measured him, and retreated. Alastair swallowed hard, his fingers curling around the edge of the table. Why did it hurt this much, even when nothing had been said?
A faint scent lingered, something sharp and familiar that made his pulse stutter. Zander had been there, close enough to hear the shallow rise and fall of his chest, close enough to stir memories Alastair wasn't ready to confront. Memories of late nights, whispered words, and touches that had left him burning long after.
He pressed a hand to his temple, willing himself to think of something else—anything else—but his mind betrayed him. The quiet ache of absence that had settled over him before seemed heavier now, as if Zander's presence had magnified it tenfold.
And yet… there was a flicker of something else. Something dangerous. Hope, maybe, or longing. The thought made him shiver, and he hated himself a little for it.
Alastair rose, pacing the study in slow, measured steps. He paused by the window, looking out at the fading light. The city stretched beneath him, indifferent to his turmoil. He wanted to call Zander, to hear his voice one more time. But pride, caution, and fear held him back.
Instead, he whispered into the quiet room, words meant only for him, yet somehow carrying the weight of everything unsaid.
"I… I'll think about talking."
The words barely left his lips when he realized that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't only about thinking. It was about wanting Zander here again, even if only for a moment.
A soft knock at the door made him jump. Not a servant this time. His heart lurched. Could it be him again?
But the door stayed closed.
Alastair let out a slow breath, one hand pressed against the door frame. He knew this was only the beginning. And deep down, he was terrified of how much he wanted it to be.