Bound By Sin

The Truth.

The drive back to Genevieve's house felt endless. The streets were quiet, bathed in the eerie glow of the streetlights, and the weight of the night hung heavy on her chest. She blasted the music, turning the volume up so high that it vibrated through the car, hoping it would drown out the noise in her head. Her fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel, trying to shake the feeling that had been gnawing at her since Nicholas stormed out of Ashton's.

As she pulled into her driveway, she shut off the engine and sat there for a moment, breathing in the silence that replaced the loud music. She was about to open the door when something made her pause. Her gaze instinctively moved up, toward Nicholas's house, and there he was—standing in his window, watching her.

Her heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. He didn't move, just stood there, his silhouette barely visible against the dim light inside. Genevieve swallowed hard, quickly stepping out of the car and hurrying toward her front door. She could feel his eyes on her the whole time, even as she fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking.

Once inside, she slammed the door shut behind her, leaning against it as she tried to calm her racing heart. It's fine, she told herself. He's just watching. He's not doing anything. But the unease that clung to her refused to loosen its grip.

She went upstairs to her room, her legs feeling heavy with exhaustion, and threw herself onto the bed. Flicking the TV on, she tried to focus on the familiar glow of the screen, but her mind was elsewhere—on Nicholas, on everything that had happened tonight. The truth felt like a blade hanging over her, sharp and ready to drop.

And then... a knock on her window.

Genevieve's heart lurched in her chest, her eyes widening in fear as she froze. The knock came again, soft but insistent. She turned her head slowly toward the window, her stomach dropping when she saw him.

Nicholas.

He was standing there, outside her window, his face illuminated by the pale moonlight, his expression calm—too calm. Genevieve felt a wave of panic surge through her, her hands shaking as she stood up. What is he doing here? Why did he come?

Her first instinct was to pretend she hadn't seen him, to ignore the knock and hope he would leave. But she knew that wouldn't work. He wasn't the type to just go away. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her ears, and slowly walked toward the window. Her fingers hesitated on the latch, but something inside her—maybe curiosity, maybe fear—made her unlock it and slide it open.

"Nicholas, what are you doing here?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with uncertainty.

He didn't climb in right away, just stood there, looking at her with those dark eyes. "I needed to talk to you," he said softly. "Can I come in?"

Genevieve hesitated. Every part of her screamed no, but she nodded, stepping aside to let him in. The moment he climbed through the window, her room felt smaller, the air thicker. She could barely breathe.

"Don't be afraid of me, Gen," Nicholas said, his voice low, almost soothing. "I'm not the bad guy. I won't hurt you."

Genevieve instinctively took a step back, her body tense. "Stay over there, Nicholas. Don't... don't come any closer."

He stopped, his hands raised slightly as if to show he meant no harm. "Okay. I'll stay here. But please... just sit down. I need to talk to you. I need you to understand."

Genevieve's legs felt weak, but she nodded and slowly sat down on the edge of her bed, her eyes never leaving him. Nicholas moved closer, his movements slow and deliberate, but he didn't come too near. He knelt down in front of her, looking up into her eyes, his expression softer than she had ever seen it.