Clementine, a social media manager with fiery red hair and emerald green eyes, was a contradiction. Shy in person, her mind buzzed with fascinating trivia just waiting for the right listener.
Sebastian Montgomery as the tabloids dubbed him, was an...
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The car ride was a blur of muffled sounds and the steady hum of the engine beneath us. Sebastian was beside me, his presence an anchor I didn't realize I needed. He sat close, but there was still a distance—a careful, deliberate distance. His hand rested lightly on my arm, just enough to remind me he was there, but not too much to make me feel overwhelmed. Every so often, he'd glance at me with that intense, unreadable gaze of his, but his eyes softened when he saw the way I was trembling, still shaken by the crash.
When we left the hospital, Sebastian had insisted on helping me get dressed. I couldn't quite remember the details, but his hands had been gentle, careful in a way I never would've expected from him. There was no rush, no impatience—just him, taking his time, making sure I was okay. And it felt like too much. It was hard to let him do it, to allow myself to be vulnerable, but I didn't know how to say no. He didn't ask me for permission, didn't need to. He just did it, like it was his right to care for me, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
When we got into the car, he made sure I was settled, tucking the blanket around me, and I felt the heat of his gaze on me as I stared out the window, lost in my thoughts. I could feel my heart racing every time the car swerved a little too sharply, my body stiffening involuntarily.
The flashbacks from the accident started to creep in then—the screeching tires, the moment the cab had jerked to the side, the panic rising in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push the images away, but they refused to leave. My breath started to hitch as my chest tightened. Not again.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Sebastian's voice cut through my thoughts, low and steady. His hand found mine, gently coaxing it open, his fingers threading through mine. "I've got you. Just breathe. You're safe now."
The warmth of his touch was like a balm, soothing the edges of my panic. I didn't know why, but I let him help me. I let him guide me back to steady breathing, back to the present moment, and away from the terrifying flashbacks.
The drive was quiet, save for the soft music playing in the background, and the rhythmic hum of the tires against the road. My nerves slowly calmed, and I let myself relax against the seat, leaning into the comfort of his touch.
When we arrived at his house, I wasn't sure what to expect. It was grand, imposing, and yet, there was a strange sense of warmth about it now. Maybe it was the way he was treating me, or maybe it was the fact that I was here—with him—after everything.
Sebastian helped me out of the car with the same careful gentleness, his hand always on me, guiding me. I felt small in his presence, almost delicate in comparison to the strength of his body beside mine. I was still a little dizzy, but I let him lead me, trusting him even though part of me kept wondering how I had ended up in this place with him.
Inside, he guided me to a room, his room—though I didn't know why, it felt like it was for me. There was an almost clinical precision in the way he moved, but it wasn't cold. He wasn't cold. He was attentive.
