Rose turned her head to look out the window, her gaze unfocused as the city lights danced across the glass, casting fleeting reflections of her face. The flickering lights blurred together in the distance, but her mind was miles away, tangled in the weight of Sylus's words. She could feel the heat creeping up her cheeks, a flush she couldn't hide. It was the kind of heat that came from something deeper, something unsettling that had no place in the walls she had so carefully built around herself.
Her thoughts were a chaotic jumble, and no matter how hard she tried to focus on the endless stretch of city below, her mind kept returning to him—his gaze, the way his voice seemed to fill the space between them, drawing her in like a magnet. He had an uncanny way of getting under her skin, of making her question the very walls she had spent years constructing. Rose wasn't accustomed to this feeling—vulnerability, doubt, desire. But with Sylus, those emotions seemed inevitable, no matter how much she tried to guard herself against them.
"You think you know me that well?" she asked, her tone sharp, perhaps sharper than she intended. It was a defensive move, a way to keep him at arm's length, even though a part of her knew it wouldn't work.
Sylus didn't respond immediately. The silence hung between them for a moment, thick and heavy, before he made a slow turn into a quiet overlook. The car glided to a stop, and for a brief moment, the only sound was the soft hum of the engine, gradually fading into nothingness. The sprawling city beneath them lay like a sea of lights, stretching endlessly into the horizon. It was beautiful, in a way—impossibly vast, full of life and energy, yet, at that moment, all Rose could focus on was the man beside her.
The car's engine shut off completely, and in the sudden quiet, the wind outside whispered against the windows. Sylus shifted in his seat, his posture relaxed but his gaze unyielding. When he turned to face her, his dark eyes were intense, locked onto hers with a kind of unwavering certainty.
"I don't just think, kitten," he said, his voice low and steady, sending a shiver through her. "I know. You let people see only what you want them to. But me?" He leaned in, the movement so slight but deliberate, like he was closing the distance between them in a way that made her heart race. "I see everything you try to hide."
Rose swallowed hard, her pulse quickening in her chest. Her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. She hadn't realized how exposed she felt until his words pierced through her carefully constructed defenses. How could he know? How could he see through her in ways no one else had, no one else even tried to?
Her hands instinctively tightened around the fabric of her tailored pants, her nails pressing into the soft material. She was used to being in control, of holding the reins of every interaction, every conversation. But with Sylus, she felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering dangerously between what she knew and what she couldn't yet understand.
"You're wrong," she said, her voice quieter now, almost as if she were trying to convince herself. "You don't see everything."
Sylus tilted his head slightly, studying her with an almost clinical fascination, as though she were the most intriguing puzzle he had ever encountered. "Then show me what I'm missing," he challenged, a dangerous smirk curling on his lips. His tone was casual, almost mocking, but his eyes never left hers. They were searching, probing, daring her to reveal more than she was willing to.
For a moment, Rose considered retreating, pulling away from him, putting the walls back up where they belonged. But as his gaze held hers, she realized that it might be too late. Something about him—his quiet intensity, the way he spoke to her like no one ever had—made her hesitate. The truth was, a part of her wanted to let him in. But that part was small, hidden deep inside, and she wasn't sure if she could trust it.
She turned fully to face him, her brown eyes blazing with a fire that surprised even her. She wasn't sure where this confidence was coming from, but it surged through her, steadying her resolve. "You think this is a game, Sylus? That you can charm your way into my life and everything will be easy?"
Sylus didn't flinch, didn't even blink. His expression softened slightly, but his eyes remained as intense as ever. "I never said it would be easy," he replied smoothly, his voice steady and sure. "But I'm not going anywhere, kitten. Not until you stop running."
His words hit her harder than she was willing to admit. The weight of them pressed down on her chest, tightening her throat, as though he had just exposed something raw and unspoken between them. Rose's pulse quickened, and she felt the familiar urge to push him away, to shut him out, to protect herself. But the words were already out there, hanging in the air like a challenge, and she couldn't take them back.
The air between them thickened, charged with a tension neither of them could ignore. Rose's hands trembled slightly as she tightened her grip on the seat, trying to steady herself. The cool leather beneath her fingers was grounding, but it wasn't enough to quell the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her.
"Why me?" The question slipped from her lips before she could stop it, her voice softer than she intended, almost vulnerable in a way she hadn't expected. She felt foolish the moment the words left her mouth, but she couldn't take them back. She had asked, and now she had to hear the answer.
Sylus leaned in just slightly, closing the distance between them even more. His gaze softened, and for the first time, she saw something other than the usual smirk in his eyes—something more genuine, more intense. His voice dropped to a near whisper, meant only for her, as though they were the only two people in the world. "Because you're worth the chase, Rose," he said, his words slow, deliberate. "Every step, every wall you put up—I'll break them down. And when you're ready to stop fighting, I'll be right here."
Her breath hitched at his words, the intensity of his declaration making her heart race. She hadn't allowed herself to feel this way in years. She hadn't let anyone in, hadn't let herself need anyone. But Sylus was different, and that scared her more than she was willing to admit.
Before she could gather her thoughts to respond, Sylus pulled back slightly, his smirk returning like a shield, a mask he wore effortlessly. "Now," he said, his tone light but still carrying that underlying intensity, "are you going to let me in, or do I have to keep proving it?"