Lena's POV
The whiskey had burned smooth on the way down, but it hadn't burned away the thoughts.
Lena sat on the edge of her couch, staring at the city lights through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The silence between her and Elias was steady, not awkward, not forced. Just… steady.
And for some reason, that unsettled her more than it comforted her.
She had spent so long building walls, keeping her emotions carefully locked behind professionalism and purpose. But lately, those walls were starting to crack.
And Elias was at the center of it.
She risked a glance at him. He was leaning back, his sleeves rolled up, glass in hand, watching her. Not in a way that demanded answers, but in a way that told her he already knew them.
That was the problem with Elias.
He saw her too clearly.
"You're staring," she murmured.
Elias smirked. "You just noticed?"
