Absolution | +18

Chapter 36

Val

It's been a week since Doc checked me out, and I can feel myself getting stronger. The pain that once felt like it would swallow me whole has started to ease, bit by bit. Every day, I manage to do more—to sit up without wincing, to walk around the room without feeling like I'm about to collapse. The bruises have faded, but still a shade of deep purple, the stitches are healing, and the dizziness from the concussion isn't as debilitating. I'm getting better.

But as my body heals, something else has shifted. Something between me and Silas.

I can't quite pinpoint the shift. He's not cold anymore, not like he used to be. There's a distance, yes, but no longer a wall of ice. It's almost as if he's learning how to be kind, though it's not in the way most people would recognize. It's subtle—a fleeting touch, a rare smile. He's protective over me, watching over me with a care that's almost begrudging but unmistakably there.

I catch glimpses of it in the way he makes sure I have my meds, or when he lingers in the doorway before leaving, his gaze scanning the room like he's checking for threats I can't see. He's still the same brooding man, but I feel a shift—like he's letting his guard down, just slightly.

I find myself caring for him, which is strange to admit. Despite everything, I don't mind our routine. It's become a part of my day, something predictable in a sea of uncertainty. I know I sit in his mind, clouding his thoughts, and it's clear that he feels the pull between us. Every time I make any progress with him, he pulls back, trying to reject it. It's like he's torn between his feelings and his usual stoic self.

And I don't mind our routine, whatever it is. I don't mind the quiet moments where we sit in the same room, not saying much, but both aware of each other. Or when he silently braids my hair.  I know I occupy his thoughts. I've seen the way his eyes follow me when he thinks I'm not paying attention. There's something there, something he can't deny. But it's like he's terrified of it, terrified of letting me in.

And yet, through all of this, there's still that address pinned in the back of my mind—the one that surfaced in the middle of the pain, like a beacon of clarity in the darkness. I don't know what it means or how to even start exploring that lead, but I have to. I have to figure out who's after me, what this address could mean, and if it ties back to Lia and the girls. I pray they're safe, but I know I can't stay here forever, waiting for answers to fall into my lap. I'll have to act, sooner or later.

I stepped into the kitchen, where the familiar sight of Silas at the stove greeted me. The scent of pancakes filled the air, a comforting aroma that somehow made everything seem a little more normal despite the chaos of recent days.

I walked over and stood beside him, watching his focused movements. I could tell my presence unsettled him—a fact I didn't mind at all. His shoulders tensed slightly, and his gaze remained fixed on the pan as he expertly flipped the pancakes, his movements precise and deliberate.

Not wanting to push him too far, I decided to strike up a conversation. "So, the book I'm reading is really good. It's about this woman who—"

Silas didn't look at me, but I could tell he was listening, his attention divided between the pancakes and my ramblings. I kept talking, detailing the plot and my thoughts on the characters, but I could feel the weight of his silence as he continued to focus on his cooking. His lack of response made me hesitate, and soon I fell into a quiet pause.

The silence stretched out, a tangible thing between us. I shifted on the counter, my legs dangling, and wondered if I had overstepped. Then, unexpectedly, Silas's voice cut through the quiet. "Why'd you stop?"