Alina's breath hitched as she stood frozen by the door, her eyes darting between Evander and the unfamiliar woman now sitting beside his bed.
The woman had a softness to her touch as she gently adjusted Evander's blanket, brushing her fingers against his cheek like she'd done it a thousand times before. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears and silent affection. Alina's chest tightened. She didn't understand why, but something about the way the woman looked at him… burned.
And Evander—he wasn't smiling.
His jaw was tight, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes refusing to meet hers. Not Alina's. Not the woman's.
"Evander," the woman whispered, brushing back his hair tenderly. "You scared me. I thought…" Her voice cracked.
Alina took a shaky step back, suddenly feeling like a stranger. She wrapped her arms around herself as if to shield her heart. Something twisted within her—jealousy, confusion, anger. She wasn't sure which.
Evander exhaled sharply. "You don't need to be here. I'm fine."
The woman blinked, visibly wounded. "You're still pushing me away?" she said, her voice breaking into a fragile laugh. "Just like the past? You really haven't changed, Evander. Do you even have a heart anymore?"
Alina's eyes widened. The past?
"I was just… worried. That's all," the woman continued, standing slowly, her eyes flicking toward Alina. "But it's okay. If my presence bothers you, I'll leave. I didn't mean to interrupt." Her voice was laced with pain, the kind that lingered from wounds that never quite healed.
She turned and walked away quietly, heels clicking against the hospital floor, leaving a trail of unanswered questions behind.
Alina stared at Evander, waiting—needing—him to say something. Anything.
But he said nothing. He looked out the window, avoiding her gaze like it burned.
The silence between them was louder than any scream.
---
Later that afternoon, the doctor came in with a gentle smile. "Good news. You're stable. You can go home now, Mr. Ross."
Evander nodded wordlessly.
His car was in the repair shop, so Alina and Ren took responsibility for getting him home. Together, they helped him into the backseat of a cab.
Ren sat in front, adjusting the mirror as Alina slid in beside Evander. Her body was stiff, face turned to the window. She didn't even glance at him.
Evander, however, couldn't take his eyes off her. The quiet fury in her expression, the sadness buried deep in her gaze—it pierced deeper than any wound.
Ren glanced between them, brows furrowed. "Is everything okay?" he asked.
Alina's voice was too calm. Too rehearsed. "Yes. Everything's alright."
The lie hung heavy in the air.
"We'll go to my place after dropping Evander," Ren added casually, glancing back at her.
Before she could answer, Evander's gaze snapped to her, eyes narrowing.
Alina paused, then said softly, "No, Ren. I'll go to my apartment."
Both men stared at her.
She turned away. "Evander's maid isn't there. He's still recovering. He'll need someone to take care of him."
Evander raised an eyebrow. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Oh? So you do care."
She didn't respond.
He leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. "I really need someone to look after me."
Alina didn't even flinch. Her eyes stayed fixed on the passing streets outside. Her silence hit him harder than any argument.
His smirk faded slowly.
Ren glanced at him through the rearview mirror, then back at the road. "If that's what you want, Alina. I get it."
Evander reached out slowly, his fingers brushing against Alina's hand. She didn't pull away—but she didn't hold it either.
He held on anyway.
Alina didn't even blink.
And for the first time in a long time… Evander felt something he rarely did.
Uncertainty.
The sky had darkened into a velvet grey, the soft murmur of drizzle echoing through the apartment windows. Alina helped Evander into his place, her steps quiet, her heart heavier than she'd ever admit.
She walked straight toward her room to distance herself—physically and emotionally—but just as her hand touched the doorknob, a firm grip held her wrist.
Evander.
His voice was low, teasing yet coated with need.
"If you sleep in another room… who's going to help me, Alina? I can't do everything myself."
She blinked, unsure if she heard him right. "You want me to stay in your room?"
Without waiting for a reply, he gently tugged her along.
And she followed.
The door clicked shut behind them.
Then locked.
Alina turned around sharply. "Why did you lock it?"
He gave her a lazy, boyish smirk. "Privacy."
Rolling her eyes, Alina muttered something about getting warm water and dashed to the kitchen to collect herself. Her heart was beating far too fast for a simple caregiving errand.
But as she returned with the warm water… her jaw dropped.
Evander had his back turned to her, slowly peeling off his shirt. Raindrops shimmered on his skin, trailing down his toned back. His muscles flexed with each motion, like a painting carved in marble.
She nearly dropped the bowl.
"Ohh Jesus! Evander! What are you doing?! I'm still here! C-Can't you see me?" she shrieked, turning her head away.
He chuckled over his shoulder. "Of course I see you. But I am going to take a shower. My clothes are soaked, Alina."
Her eyes widened like saucers. "Sh-Shower?!"
"Yeah, what else do people do after getting drenched in the rain?" He turned to face her fully, his abs on full display, casually walking closer. "So… come help me."
Alina choked on air. "He-Help you?! I'm a girl, Evander! Have some shame!"
He was smirking now, inching closer with every step. She backed away until her spine hit the wall.
"I thought you said you wanted to take care of me," he murmured, resting a hand beside her head.
Her breath hitched.
"Now you're backing out?" he teased, eyes dancing with amusement.
Alina's face was practically on fire. "W-What is wrong with you?!"
Evander laughed—really laughed.
"You're looking like an angry little rabbit right now, Alina," he managed between chuckles. "Hopping mad but still cute."
Oh then who are you? An Archaeopteryx ?
"Wait—! I'll show you what rabbits do!" she shouted, storming after him.
He ran playfully through the room, dodging her failed attempts to hit him with a cushion. Their laughter filled the apartment like sunshine after a storm.
But just when she thought the chase was over… he spun around, caught her wrist, and pulled her into the bathroom.
Click. Lock.
"Evander!" she gasped, glaring at the locked door behind her. "What the hell are you doing?!"
Before she could yell more, he pressed a finger gently to her lips. His eyes—intense, unreadable—searched hers.
And then silence.
Their eyes met.
Their hearts skipped.
The world blurred.
He was inches away now, droplets sliding down his chest, abs glistening like sin itself. Alina's breath caught, her body tensing with an emotion she couldn't name—half fear, half desire.
Evander leaned in, slowly curling an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. "Relax," he whispered. "Just wash my hair."
Her cheeks turned crimson. "I-I… you're unbelievable," she muttered, reaching for the shampoo with trembling hands.
As she began lathering his thick, dark hair, he closed his eyes, humming softly. The scent of mint and warmth surrounded them, filling the small space with something intimate… something magnetic.
Then, with the mischief of a true troublemaker, Alina "accidentally" let some shampoo slide straight into his eyes.
"ALINAAA!" Evander shouted, rubbing his stinging eyes.
Alina doubled over laughing at the corner, wiping tears from her eyes. "You were being too romantic. That's your reward, Mr. Ross!"
He glared at her through foamy lashes. "You just declared war."
And for the first time in days—maybe weeks—they both laughed.
Not as a girl running from her feelings.
Not as a man hiding behind mystery.
But just Alina and Evander.
Together.
Alive.
And complicated.