Quiet Before The Storm

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I woke up to the dull ache in my side, the bandages tight against my skin

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I woke up to the dull ache in my side, the bandages tight against my skin. The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside. I glanced around the room, squinting against the early morning light filtering through the blinds. Where was I? Oh, right. Damien's place.

Great. I'm a complete idiot. Trusting Damien, of all people? The guy who's been hunting me down like I'm some prized trophy, who's probably dreamed about catching me just so he could toss me into some prison cell. And now I'm *here*, lying in his bed, bandaged up like we're suddenly allies. What the hell is wrong with me?

I sighed, my side twinging with the movement. The truth was, I didn't really have a choice. Damien saved my life last night. But that didn't mean I trusted him. Not really. He was part of this whole mess-chasing me, tracking me, always one step behind until now. And now I'm lying in his sleek, overpriced apartment, playing house like none of that ever happened. I must be losing my mind.

I found a note on the nightstand, his handwriting quick and slanted. **Be back soon.** No details, no explanations. Typical Damien. The man loved to keep people guessing. Not that I cared. I wasn't interested in whatever self-appointed mission he was on this time. I just wanted to get out of here.

But lying around all day wasn't going to help. Swinging my legs over the side, I stood gingerly, wincing at the pain. My eyes drifted around the room again, taking it all in. Sleek. Minimalist. The walls were a cool grey, the furniture modern and expensive-looking. It was the kind of place you'd expect from someone like Damien-functional, no-nonsense, with just a touch of "I'm better than you" attitude.

As I wandered into the living room, I couldn't help but think about all the times he had been on my tail, always so damn smug. And here I was, injured and stuck in his apartment, completely at his mercy. *Good going, Blake. Real genius move,* I thought bitterly.

The living room was just as spotless as the bedroom-like he barely lived here at all. A massive flat-screen TV hung on the wall, with a few remotes neatly arranged on the glass coffee table. The oversized couch was plush, tempting, and I couldn't resist sinking into it. I grabbed one of the remotes and flicked through the channels until I found some random action movie, full of explosions and bad one-liners. Exactly what I needed.

But even the explosions couldn't drown out the growling of my stomach. I hadn't eaten since before the heist. The kitchen, of course, was pristine. Polished counters, sleek appliances, everything screaming wealth. I rummaged through the cabinets until I found some instant ramen. Not exactly what I expected Damien to have in his fancy kitchen, but I wasn't complaining. As the smell of the broth filled the air, I leaned against the counter, wondering why, out of all the places in the city, I ended up in his.

With a bowl of noodles in hand, I settled back onto the couch, letting myself sink into the comfort. As absurd as it was, I felt more at ease than I had in days. The movie's explosions rumbled in the background, and for a second, I allowed myself to smile at the ridiculousness of it all. Hiding out in Damien's apartment like I belonged here.

Suddenly, the front door clicked open.

My heart jumped into my throat, and I shot upright, ramen spilling slightly over the bowl. Damien stepped in, his eyes immediately locking onto me as he closed the door behind him.

"Relax, Blake. I'm not gonna bite," he said with a grin, his voice dripping with that infuriating mockery. "Or did you think I'd throw you out for eating my precious ramen?"

I scowled, trying to hide the way my pulse raced. "You're not exactly a *trustworthy* host," I shot back, gesturing awkwardly at the ramen and the movie still playing in the background. "But hey, thanks for saving me. I guess."

Damien chuckled, his lips curling into that maddeningly smug smile. "You *guess*? I risk my neck saving you, bring you to my place, and all I get is a 'thanks, I guess'? I'm hurt, Blake. Truly." He placed a hand dramatically over his chest, his blue eyes glinting with amusement.

I glared at him, my face flushing under his teasing gaze. He was still in his suit, a perfectly tailored dark grey, but his hair was a mess, as if he'd been running his hands through it all morning. The guy looked like he'd just stepped out of a magazine shoot-infuriatingly put together, even when he was clearly exhausted.

He stepped further into the room, tossing his jacket onto the arm of a nearby chair. The tension between us was palpable, and I hated how aware I was of him-how his every movement seemed to fill the space around us.

"I wasn't sure if you'd be back so soon," I mumbled, trying to sound casual, though my voice felt small in the room.

"Yeah, well, I just couldn't stay away," Damien quipped, his tone half-mocking. "You've always had that effect on me, Blake. Keeping me on my toes, wondering what reckless thing you'll do next."

"Funny," I said, rolling my eyes. "I thought you were the one chasing me all this time. I didn't realize I was *entertaining* you."

Damien smirked, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch, loosening his tie slightly. "Oh, you definitely kept me entertained. Always one step ahead, just out of reach. It was thrilling. Frustrating, but thrilling."

I stared at him, my pulse quickening again. I hated that he had this effect on me. That he could make me feel this way-off balance, vulnerable, even when I wanted to punch him for being so damn smug.

"Glad to know I could keep you busy," I muttered, setting the ramen bowl aside. "But I'm not here to play games, Damien. We both know that whatever happened last night-whatever you saved me from-it's not over."

Damien's smile faded slightly, his eyes narrowing. "No, it's not over. Not by a long shot." He leaned back against the couch, his playful demeanor giving way to something more serious. "We need to talk, Blake. About last night. About what happens next."

I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as I could muster. "Why should I listen to you? You've been after me for months. You think just because you played the hero for a night, I'm suddenly going to trust you?"

He shrugged, his grin returning. "Well, you're still here, aren't you? That's gotta count for something."

Damn him. He had a point.

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