Court Of Shadows and Lies

25. Control and Desires

“Leave,” I said again, my voice firm and unwavering. But he just shook his head, his expression stubborn.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he insisted, his voice trembling slightly. “I want to stay by your side. Always. If I don’t, it makes me crazy and scared.”

I sighed, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on me. I began to pace around the room, my mind racing as I tried to figure out what to do. The last thing I wanted was to indulge his feelings, yet here he was, standing in front of me, vulnerable and desperate.

“Please,” he said again, his voice soft and pleading.

I stopped and turned to look at him, and it hit me then—his pitiful expression reminded me of a lost puppy, unable to stray too far from its master. I couldn’t look at him like that, not when it tugged at something deep within me.

After a moment, I sank down onto the edge of my bed, feeling the tension in my shoulders begin to ease just slightly. I weighed my options, and despite my better judgment, I decided to let him stay. “Fine,” I said, my voice steady but laced with resignation. “You can stay. But you will sleep on the floor.”

His face lit up with a smile, and I felt a rush of warmth at the sight, a warmth I quickly pushed aside. I couldn't let myself feel that way. It was dangerous.

“Okay,” he said, nodding eagerly, still beaming. I turned away, pretending to focus on something else in the room, but I could feel the heat of his happiness radiating toward me, and it frustrated me more than I wanted to admit.

“You just stay there and don’t make any noise,” I added sharply, my tone almost a warning.

“Of course,” he replied, and I could hear the joy in his voice. I hated that it made me feel something, but I wouldn’t let it show.

“I’m going to get you a blanket,” I said, rising from the bed and making my way toward the door. I could feel his eyes on me as I left the room, the weight of his presence lingering even as I stepped outside.

After a few minutes, I returned with the blanket draped over my arm. He hadn’t moved an inch; he stood exactly where I had left him, still as a statue.

“Here,” I said, handing it to him. “Make yourself a bed on the floor.” His fingers brushed against mine as he took the blanket, and for a brief moment, an electric sensation shot through me. I quickly suppressed it, pulling back my hand as if I’d been burned.

He nodded, a quiet determination in his gaze as he began to spread the blanket out on the floor, arranging it to his liking. I turned away, focusing on my bed, the soft sheets calling to me like a siren’s song. I climbed under my own blanket, wrapping it tightly around myself, needing the comfort it provided.

I could hear him moving around behind me, the rustle of the blanket as he settled down. Part of me wanted to glance back, to see how he made his space, but I resisted the urge. Instead, I focused on the familiar patterns of the fabric beneath me, willing my thoughts to calm.

Finally, when I felt the silence stretching between us, I allowed myself to glance over my shoulder. He had made a neat little nest on the floor, his eyes bright with an unguarded joy that made my heart constrict.

“Goodnight, Cessalie,” he said softly, and my heart betrayed me again, fluttering in response.

“Just… be quiet,” I replied, forcing my voice to sound sharp, despite the warmth creeping into my chest. I turned away, burying my face into my pillow, trying to block out the warmth of his presence. I had to maintain control, even if a part of me wanted to draw him closer, to let him bask in that warmth, just a little longer.