𝑀𝒶𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝒶 | 𝟏𝟖+

12.

Kairos Vasileiou

I tightened my grip around Elle's waist, guiding her down the narrow, dimly lit corridor. She felt almost limp in my hold, her body a mix of shock and exhaustion. The twisting halls disoriented her, but I moved with purpose, my steps sure. I knew exactly where I was taking her.

We arrived at my room, and I closed the door behind us, locking it with a definitive click. The sound echoed in the silence, a barrier against the outside world.

"Sit," I instructed softly, gesturing to the plush sofa in the corner. For a moment, she hesitated, her body stiff with resistance, but I nudged her gently until she finally collapsed onto the seat.

Crouching down in front of her, I scanned her face, noting the wide, teary eyes that looked back at me. "You're safe now," I said in that calm, low tone that I hoped would reassure her. "No one's here to hurt you. It's just us."

Her breaths came in quick, shallow gasps, and I could see the fear swirling in her gaze. "You... you did all of this just to keep me here? You forced everyone off the ship?"

I tilted my head, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with my finger. "I had to. No one else understands what we have, Elle. They don't know how special you are." My voice was soft and coaxing as if I were trying to comfort a wild animal, convinced that I was doing something noble, that my obsession was beautiful.

Disbelief flickered across her features as she shook her head, her hands trembling. "This isn't right," she whispered, struggling to keep her voice steady. "You can't just... do this."

Sighing, I sat beside her on the sofa, resting my hand on her knee. I felt her tense beneath my touch, but I ignored it. "Elle," I began, my tone earnest, "I know you're scared. I know this all seems overwhelming right now."

I could see her flinch as my fingers trailed down her arm, a sensation that was both gentle and suffocating. "I don't need this," she replied, her voice breaking, filled with desperation. "I just want to leave."

Leaning closer, I locked my gaze onto hers, my expression one of calm control. "No, you don't. You think you do, but it's because you're scared." I cupped her chin, forcing her to look at me. "I'm here. I won't leave you."

Her breath hitched in her throat as my words twisted inside her, wrapping tighter around her vulnerabilities. I could see the internal battle playing out in her eyes, a mixture of anger and something else—something softer. Part of me relished the power I had over her, while another part felt the weight of my actions. I was manipulating her, using her fears against her, and it was working.

"You're tired," I murmured, my voice gentle, soothing. "You've been through so much. I can help you. You don't need to be afraid anymore. Let me take care of you, Elle."

As her eyes filled with tears again, I recognized that this time it wasn't just fear—it was confusion, exhaustion, and the weight of everything crashing down around her.

I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her in a twisted imitation of comfort. "It's going to be okay. I'm the only one who truly understands you. Let me be here for you."

For a moment, she remained still, her mind racing for an escape, a way out of this tangled web I'd spun. But as I held her tighter, my voice lulling her with promises of safety, I felt her resolve begin to crumble, just a little. I had her right where I wanted her, and I savored the thought that she might not fight me anymore. She was slipping further into my grasp, and the idea sent a thrill through me.

As I held her, I felt the exhilaration of control mingled with the dangerous thrill of the chase. I was so close to drawing her into my world completely, and I wouldn't let her go again.

Suddenly, she pulled away from my embrace, creating distance between us. My heart sank slightly, but I quickly masked it with a calm demeanor.

"Elle," I said softly, my voice low and steady, "where are you going?" I watched as she stood up, her body rigid with a mix of defiance and uncertainty.

"I need some air," she replied, her tone more resolute than I expected, but I knew better than to let her slip away.

I rose from the sofa, closing the space between us with deliberate steps. "You don't need to be alone right now. It's still late." My words were sharp, cutting through the haze of her hesitation.

Her eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape, but I could see the flicker of uncertainty in her gaze. "Kairos, I just want to be by myself for a minute," she insisted, but I could sense the cracks in her resolve.

I knew she was lying. She was going to try and escape again. What would she do? Jump overboard?

"Being alone isn't what you need right now," I countered, my tone shifting to a softer, more coaxing register. "You need to rest. You've been through so much, love. Let me take care of you." I stepped closer, watching as she shifted her weight, torn between her instincts and the comfort I offered.

I reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers grazing her cheek. "I'll be right here with you. You're safe with me." The words were sweet, but also a reminder of how she'd never be able to leave me.

Her breath hitched as my words wrapped around her like a warm blanket, and I could see her thoughts racing. She wanted to fight back, but exhaustion was creeping in, tugging at her defenses. I pressed my advantage, knowing I had to keep her close. "Just today, let's stay together."

As the silence stretched between us, I realized she wasn't going to move or say anything. It was a fragile moment, the air thick with unspoken tension. With a gentle tug, I guided her toward the bed, her body following my lead as if it had already accepted my touch.

I sat her down carefully on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to admire her. She was still wearing the same dark green hoodie from last night, the fabric slightly rumpled but somehow adding to her allure. The way it hung loosely on her frame.

"Let me help you." I murmured, my voice a low drawl as I reached for the blanket draped over the foot of the bed. I spread it out over her, tucking it around her shoulders, feeling the warmth radiate from her body as I settled in next to her.

"You should rest," I said, allowing my fingers to lightly brush against the blanket, my gaze locked onto her face. "You've had a long night, and you need to recuperate."

My fault.

She looked up at me, her eyes still wide and uncertain, but there was a flicker of something deeper. I leaned closer, resting my arm casually behind her, creating an intimate space between us.

"Just let yourself relax." I continued, my tone gentle yet firm. As she nestled into the blanket, I felt a surge of satisfaction wash over me. The day was just beginning and I fully understood she wasn't sleeping next to me because she felt safe or trusted the environment.

But she was completely exhausted, mentally and physically. I chose my words carefully and I knew they got to her.