The soft shuffle of footsteps broke Alex's realm of thoughts.
He turned to see Emily standing in the doorway, her frame small and fragile against the backdrop of the kitchen.
She was wearing one of his old sweatshirts, the sleeves hanging past her hands, her posture hesitant, eyes slightly red, face pale, and she was clearly having trouble keeping her balance.
"Hi," she said quietly, her voice raspy and filled with uncertainty, avoiding his gaze. There was an unmistakable air of embarrassment hanging around her, as if she didn't quite know how to place herself in the moment.
Alex cleared his throat, setting the spatula down on the counter.
"Hi. Hows you feeling? I was going to bring breakfast to you. You need rest." His tone was softer than he intended, laced with concern, though he tried to keep it light.
Emily avoided his eyes, instead focusing on the floor.
"Actually… I'm sorry," she muttered, her voice small.
"I shouldn't have said those things earlier. It was my fault, not yours. You saved me, and I don't even know how to properly thank you. I was just… scared. I didn't know what to think."
Her voice wavered, and Alex noticed the way her hands trembled as she hugged the oversized sweatshirt closer to her body. Tears were welling up in her eyes again, and the sight of it made something twist painfully in his chest.
She wasn't just embarrassed—she was ashamed, vulnerable, overwhelmed.
Running a hand through his hair, Alex let out a soft sigh.
"You don't need to apologize. Believe me, if I woke up in a stranger's bed like that, I'd have freaked out too. Probably worse."
He tried for a smile, hoping to ease some of the tension, but the weight of the situation pressed down on both of them, making it difficult to dispel the awkwardness.
Another uncomfortable silence filled the air. The room was too still, too quiet, except for the faint sizzle of the pan on the stove.
Breaking the silence, Alex asked, "How are you feeling now?"
Emily stepped further into the kitchen, wrapping her arms around herself as if to physically shield herself from the heaviness of the conversation.
"Better, I think," she replied, though her voice was hesitant, as though she wasn't quite sure herself. "I'm just… still a little bit out of it."
Alex studied her for a moment, taking in the slight flush on her cheeks, the nervous way she bit her bottom lip. She was still shaken, clearly. He couldn't blame her. Last night had been terrifying—for both of them. And yet, as he looked at her, he found himself more concerned for her than for his own emotional turmoil.
"You gave me quite a scare last night," he admitted quietly, turning away from the stove to face her more fully.
"I didn't have any medication on hand, so I had to improvise. The cold water… it was the only thing I could think of to bring down your… you know!"
Emily's face flushed even deeper, her eyes darting away as she shuffled on her feet.
"I don't remember much," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm sorry you had to… deal with that."
Alex stepped forward slightly, shaking his head.
"You don't have to apologize. You were in trouble, and I was there. That's all there is to it."
His voice was firm, but the tension between them, the unspoken discomfort, was palpable.
After a beat, he added, more gently, "But I am a doctor, after all. If you're still not feeling well, I can check your vitals. Just to make sure everything's alright or just can bring you to the hospital."
Emily hesitated, her eyes flicking up to meet his. For a moment, there was something fragile and uncertain in her gaze, something that made Alex's heart lurch. He had no idea what was going on in her head, but whatever it was, it seemed to carry an unbearable weight.
"If you don't mind," Alex quickly added, his tone softer now, sensing her hesitation.
Emily gave a small nod, finally stepping closer. "Okay."
Alex moved toward her, his hand reaching out with the same professional care he always had when examining patients. He gently took her wrist in his hand, his fingers lightly pressing against her skin to feel the steady thrum of her pulse.
The touch was clinical, and yet, there was an undercurrent of something else—something neither of them wanted to acknowledge, but that was there nonetheless.
Her pulse was normal, steady. She was physically fine. But his own heart, on the other hand, was a mess. The proximity between them, the lingering memories of the night before, made it hard for him to think clearly.
"It seems normal," he said finally, his voice tighter than he intended. He released her wrist, stepping back quickly, as if putting space between them would somehow make things less complicated.
Emily pulled her hand back slowly, rubbing her wrist absentmindedly, her eyes drifting to the floor. The room felt smaller suddenly, the air thick with the unspoken tension between them. She swallowed hard, her lips parting as if to speak but hesitating.
"Thank you… for everything," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't been there."
Alex shook his head. "You don't need to thank me," he replied softly, his gaze meeting hers. "Anyone would have done the same."
But they both knew that wasn't true. Most people wouldn't have cared. Most people wouldn't have stepped in.
And definitely, most people wouldn't have taken her in, kept their distance, respected her vulnerability. There was more to this, to what had happened. More to them. And that realization scared Alex more than anything. Emily was also aware of this.
She knew deep down, her vulnerable state that night, anyone could do anything to her and she would not be able to protest. If he didn't saved her, she might have been raped already. Don't know, by how many lusty people.
Even Alex have taken advantage of her in the name of the drug she could not say anything as it was a bit better than having being raped by 10 or more lusty, pervert people.
But he didn't do anything. He tried to keep the line. He tried not to invade her privacy. He didn't take any advantage of her. He should be respected and she knows that.
He turned back to the stove abruptly, needing to focus on something else, something tangible. "I'll get you some food," he said, his voice gruff.
Emily nodded, watching him in silence. Even though they said nothing more, the weight of the night hung between them, unresolved and unnerving.