5. Addison

5

Addison

" E

ren?" My voice cracked the silence like a branch underfoot in a quiet forest.

No answer came. Only the thud of my heart, pounding a relentless rhythm against my ribs, filled the space. My breath came in short, jagged pulls, each one harder to catch than the last.

The tingling sensation that had overtaken my body began to subside, leaving behind a warm glow that buzzed through my veins. It was an awakening of sorts, a revelation wrapped in pleasure I'd never known before. And it felt... good. More than good—it was a craving now etched into my very nerves, a hunger for repetition.

With shaky fingers, I removed the blindfold. The fabric slipped from my eyes, and the dimly lit confines of the closet emerged. Stark and real and... empty.

A wave of disappointment crashed over me, though I couldn't say it was unexpected. Where had Eren disappeared to after such an intimate moment? A moment that should have drawn him closer seemed to have pushed him away.

Shouldn't he be here? Attentive? Concerned? His absence gnawed at me, an itch of irritation I couldn't scratch away. After what had just unfolded between us—no, what had unfolded upon me—I thought there would be some thread of connection left tugging at him.

But there was nothing. Only me and the silence and the slow dissipation of a pleasure that was no longer enough to keep me company.

With shaky legs, I pulled on my underwear and stepped out of the room. The dimly lit hallway stretched before me, and I could hear the distant sounds of sighs and moans from another room. My cheeks flushed at the intimate noises, and I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, trying to be as quiet as possible.

"Oh, Damien," a female voice moaned from the room, followed by a low growl. "There you go."

I tiptoed down the hallway, trying to avoid making any noise. Suddenly, I ran into something solid, nearly knocking over a lamp on a coffee table. My heart leaped into my throat as I heard a low voice say, "Wait."

Without warning, a man stepped out of his room, clad only in boxer briefs. He was tall and muscular, with silver-white hair that fell in loose waves around his face. His eyes were a piercing ice-blue, and his features were sharp and angular. He was gorgeous, but there was something raw, something dangerous, about him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a low voice, his eyes narrowing as he looked me up and down.

"Eren... uh, he brought me," I stammered, feeling my face grow hotter.

"And he just left?" Damien asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded, feeling my throat tighten. I didn't know what to say or do. I felt like an intruder, like I didn't belong here.

"You're not allowed to be here unsupervised," he said, his voice carrying a tone of authority that sent a shiver down my spine.

"I'm leaving," I managed to say, the words tumbling out in a rush as I backed away, desperate to find the hallway that led back to the barn—to safety, to normalcy.

"Wait." The word shot through the air, firm enough to root me in place. I heard him curse under his breath before he retreated into his room.

Seconds ticked by like hours until he reappeared, jeans slung low on his hips, unbuttoned. His approach was swift, one hand latching onto my arm with a grip that brooked no argument while the other covered my eyes.

"I'm going to have a talk with Mercer, the fuckface," he muttered. "There are rules here for a reason."

Stumbling forward, guided—or rather pulled—by Damien's rough grasp, I nearly tripped over unseen obstacles. My heart raced as my other senses heightened in compensation for the loss of sight. The earthy scent of grass filled my nostrils; crickets chirped their night song, yet all seemed distant, overshadowed by the immediate threat of Damien's presence.

"Damien, what the hell?" The new voice sliced through the night, and my heart lurched into my throat.

Michael.

Recognition coursed through me with a mix of relief and a new wave of anxiety. What would he think seeing me like this—at the mercy of this man?

The grip on my arm loosened slightly but didn't let go. There was a pause, an unspoken conversation hanging in the air like an electric charge before a storm.

"Is this yours?" Damien drawled, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Yes," Michael's response came, immediate and laced with a possessiveness that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. I didn't understand why his claim affected me so; it wasn't like we were close.

"Hmm," Damien hummed, a sound loaded with skepticism. Without warning, he shoved me toward Michael. The unexpected motion caused my heart to leap into my throat, but before fear could fully bloom, I collided with the solid warmth of Michael's chest.

"She mentioned Eren. I thought you knew the expectations of taking her back to the Hall," Damien said sharply. "Girls can't be left hanging around unsupervised. This is our space. Got it?"

Michael nodded, his body tense against mine.

"Good, now fuck off," Damien dismissed us with a flick of his wrist.

A hand settled on the small of my back, a touch so unexpected yet unmistakable—it was Michael's. How I discerned that from a simple gesture, I couldn't fathom. Our interactions had been limited at best and never once crossed into the realm of physical affection. Yet there was no mistaking the subtle pressure of his fingers guiding me away from Damien and down the hallway.

His touch was warm on my body, grounding amidst the disarray of emotions swirling within me. Despite my confusion and lingering embarrassment from earlier events, relief bloomed like a delicate flower at his presence. He was here with me—Michael, who barely knew me but had somehow become my anchor in this tumultuous sea of a night.

As we walked in silence, his hand remained on my back—a silent statement of protection or perhaps solidarity. It was hard to tell which. But as we left Damien and the others behind, navigating the darkened path that led away from the chaos of the party and back toward something resembling normalcy, one thing became clear: in this moment, Michael was exactly where I needed him to be.

"I'm sorry," I found myself whispering, the words tumbling out in a clumsy cascade of gratitude and embarrassment. "It seems like I needed you to save me again."

Michael's pace slowed as we neared the barn, the sounds of music and revelry spilling out into the night air. He turned to face me, his eyes capturing mine with an intensity that sent a tremor through my body. "I'd always come for you," he said, his voice a low promise that resonated somewhere deep within me.

There was something in his gaze, something alluring and dark, that made my breath hitch. A dangerous curiosity unfurled within me, a desire to delve into the depths of those eyes and uncover the secrets they held.

We were interrupted by the sudden assault of music as we stepped back into the barn. It was loud, almost oppressive, as if trying to suffocate the moment that had just passed between us.

"Sorry," I said again over the music, folding my arms across my chest as if to ward off the sudden chill. "I'm sure I'm keeping you away from a girl or two. It is Valentine's Day, after all."

Michael's gaze didn't waver, even as the chaos of the party swirled around us. "Trust me," he said with an earnestness that caught me off guard. "There's nowhere I'd rather be."

My heart stuttered at his words, a warm flush spreading across my cheeks. There was an undeniable sincerity in his voice that made it impossible to doubt him.

Forcing myself to break away from his intense stare, I scanned the crowd for Eren. My eyes darted from face to face, searching for any sign of him among the throngs of partygoers.

Eren was nowhere in sight. I scanned the sea of faces, the pit of my stomach sinking with a weight that threatened to pull me under. He wouldn't just leave, would he? No, that wasn't like him.

I made my way over to the refreshment table, my fingers grazing the edge as if it could anchor me in the whirlpool of uncertainty. Michael's presence trailed behind me like a shadow.

"You don't have to wait with me," I said without turning, keeping my gaze fixed on the colorful array of drinks and snacks as if they held some answer. "I'm sure Eren's just in the bathroom."

Hopefully, he was there. The thought of him leaving me alone at the party was a possibility I didn't want to entertain.

"I can go if you don't want the company," Michael offered, his voice even.

"No, it's not—" My words faltered, and I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly awkward. "Sorry. I'm not trying to be rude."

"I know," he murmured.

I reached for a plate of cookies I had brought earlier. "Hey, have you had my cookie?" I asked, attempting to steer away from the tension.

Michael coughed abruptly, almost choking on air. Surprised, I slapped his back in a reflexive gesture of concern.

"Are you okay?" I asked as he straightened up, eyes watering slightly from the unexpected fit.

"I'm okay," he assured me, regaining his composure.

"I was asking about my cookies." I held one out to him. "What do you think? Want to try?"

He hesitated for a fraction of a second before his eyes darkened, a fleeting expression that looked almost like hunger flitting across his face. "Careful, Addison," he said in a low voice that made something inside me flicker with an unnamed emotion. "I don't think you know what you're asking."

Then he took the cookie from my hand.

Michael took a slow bite of the cookie, his eyes never leaving mine. The simple act of him eating it became something else entirely—something charged and intense. His tongue darted out to catch a stray crumb at the corner of his mouth, and I found myself holding my breath.

He chewed deliberately, savoring the taste, and I couldn't help but feel like he was doing it on purpose. Like he knew exactly what he was doing to me. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt a flush creep up my neck.

Obviously not. Michael wasn't like that, but still…

"Good?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Delicious," he replied, his voice low and husky.

We stood there for a moment, locked in a silent standoff. The air between us crackled with tension, and I felt my body respond in ways I couldn't explain. My breath hitched, and I bit my lower lip, trying to regain some semblance of control.

Michael's gaze dropped to my mouth, and I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—desire, maybe? It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a look of determination. He took another bite of the cookie, his eyes never leaving mine.

I watched as he chewed, my mouth going dry. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him, and I felt like I was being pulled into his orbit. The party around us faded into the background, and all I could focus on was Michael and the way he was making me feel.

My heart raced, and I felt a warmth spread through my body. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before—a mix of excitement and fear, desire and uncertainty. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew I didn't want it to stop.

Michael finished the cookie and licked his fingers clean, his eyes never leaving mine. I felt a shiver run down my spine, and I knew I was in trouble.

A forced laugh tumbled from my lips, as awkward as a fawn on new legs. I glanced down at my hands, now empty of the cookies that seemed to hold some kind of strange power moments ago. I had a boyfriend. I shouldn't be feeling whatever this electric charge was between Michael and me. It was wrong.

And honestly? He probably wasn't doing anything weird. It was me, interpreting his every move like some hormonal teenager seeing coded messages of desire in the way he ate a cookie. It's ridiculous.

I shifted on my feet, suddenly desperate to put distance between us. It had to be because of what happened earlier—the closet, the darkness, the intimacy that I never asked for—it all swirled in my mind, painting every interaction with a sensual brush. I needed to get my mind out of the gutter.

"You know," I started, reaching into my purse for my phone, my fingers brushing against its cool surface like a lifeline. "I... I think I want to go home." My voice was quieter than I intended, a stark contrast to the boisterous party around us.

I needed to find Eren...

My thought trailed off as I pulled out the phone, avoiding Michael's gaze which seemed to search for something within me that I wasn't ready to acknowledge.

I saw a couple of texts from Eren, and I quickly unlocked my phone to read them.

Sorry, babe.

Family emergency. Text me when you're home so I know your safe.

A flare of annoyance bubbled in my chest as I read Eren's text, and it wasn't because of poor grammar.

Great.

He had left me.

After everything, he took off without one word to me.

I stuffed my phone back into my purse with more force than necessary.

"Everything okay?" Michael's voice cut through the din of the party, tinged with genuine concern.

"No," I replied, sharper than I intended. "But, you know, whatever. I'm going to go."

"Let me walk you to your car —"

"I'm not a damsel who needs to be saved," I snapped, the words leaping from my tongue like sparks from a fire.

His brow rose. The guilt swelled in me instantly, a tide that refused to ebb. This wasn't his fault. It was mine, all mine.

He nodded, taking a step back without another word.

I should have apologized, explained that it wasn't him; it was the night, the mess of feelings and confusion Eren left in his wake. But I didn't. Instead, I turned on my heel and marched out of the barn into the cool night air.

As I made my way across the dead field toward where my car was parked under an oak tree's shadow, the sense that someone's gaze lingered on me was inescapable. But when I glanced over my shoulder, there was only the barn—alive with light and sound—and the darkness beyond.