Darling

XXIII

Sebastian 

Sebastian sat in the dim light of his study, the faint tick of the grandfather clock the only sound that filled the room. His fingers brushed the edge of the glass, the amber liquid inside almost untouched. The scotch burned his throat, but it did little to numb the restlessness gnawing at him. His mind wasn't here, not really. It was out there, in the house, in the space between him and Clementine.

He'd kept her at arm's length for months now, each encounter between them a delicate dance of power, control, and restraint. Every touch, every whisper, felt like a slow game of tug-of-war—her innocent curiosity pulling at him, while his cold distance held her just out of reach. Yet she still came to him, still sought the kind of solace only he could offer. There was something about that sweetness in her, that jittery uncertainty that made her so... addicting. But the moment he let her get too close, the moment she became more than just a distraction, he would lose himself to something far darker.

His phone buzzed on the table, breaking his thoughts. He reached for it without looking, his fingers gliding over the smooth surface. It was from her.

Are you home?

Sebastian's lips curled into a slight smirk, his fingers lingering over the keys for a moment before he typed back.

Why?

The phone buzzed again almost immediately.

I think I lost Beau. He ran off again.

His smirk faltered for a split second. The dog. She had always been a bit paranoid about Beau, always afraid of him running off, but the timing... it felt like more than just the dog this time. She was always so delicate when it came to things she couldn't control.

You know I don't care about the dog. What do you need from me?

He read it over before sending.

The reply was quick: I need you to come home. Now.

Sebastian's jaw tightened. Something in her voice, even in the words typed across the screen, felt... off. A quiet desperation that he hadn't heard from her before.

He stood, walking to the window. Outside, the lights from the town flickered in the distance, casting a soft glow across the lawns of the manor. Everything was calm, untouched. But inside him? Inside him, things were shifting, pulling in ways he couldn't control.

He could go to her, as he always did. He could offer her the comfort she craved, the cold reassurance that she was safe in his world. But that would only drag her deeper into the web, wouldn't it?

A sound—footsteps on the floor above—pulled him from his thoughts. He hadn't realized it, but she was already here. Clementine. Quiet as always, her presence barely a whisper on the air.

He walked to the door and opened it without a word, not giving her the chance to knock. She stood there, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and relief. Her breath came in shallow bursts, her hands twisted nervously at her sides.

"I thought—" She stopped herself, biting her lip.

"Thought what?" His voice was cold, as always, but there was an edge to it, something that made her hesitate even more.

"I thought you'd—" She faltered again, eyes dropping to the floor, then quickly back to him. "I thought you'd come sooner."

Sebastian said nothing at first. He just watched her, the same way he always did. He let the silence stretch, each second thick with tension, until finally, he spoke again.