54 | You really think you're that important to me?
The first thing I feel is warmth. The kind that seeps into my bones, dulling the ache in my shoulder, wrapping me in something almost peaceful.
The second thing I feel is the emptiness of the room.
My body is sluggish, but my mind sharpens the moment I realize I'm alone. My eyes snap open, the ceiling above me unfamiliar. The sterile scent of antiseptic clings to the air, mixing with the faintest trace of something softer, something that smells like home.
Aurelia.
I shift, my muscles protesting as I try to sit up, but the weight of my injury pins me down. My jaw clenches against the pain, but I ignore it. My heart is pounding now, my pulse a steady drum against my throat.
Where is she?
I turn my head, scanning the dimly lit bedroom. Shadows stretch along the walls, cast by the warm glow of a bedside lamp. The door is closed. No movement. No sound.
Panic claws at my ribs, irrational but suffocating. I force myself to speak, my voice hoarse but urgent.
"Aurelia?"
Nothing.
My fingers curl into the sheets. I try again, louder this time.
"Aurelia."
The door creaks open and she walks inside the room.
Her red hair is messy, her clothes slightly wrinkled, like she's been sitting in a chair for too long.
She stops in the doorway when she sees me awake, her eyes widening just slightly before she exhales, as if she's been holding her breath this whole time.
She's safe.
She's fucking safe.
Something in my chest eases, a knot I hadn't realized was there loosening its grip. I relax against the pillows, letting out a slow breath.
Her lips press into a thin line as she steps closer. "You look like shit."
I smirk, ignoring the sting in my shoulder. "And you look like you haven't slept in years."
"I haven't," she admits, but there's no bite to her words. She moves to the chair beside my bed and sinks into it, watching me carefully.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
Her brows pull together, like she wasn't expecting the question.
"I'm fine. It just scared the shit out of me when the men started shooting. And the car crash..." She trails off, shaking her head. "That was a fucking nightmare."
I watch the way her fingers twist together in her lap, the way her shoulders tense at the memory.
"Enough about me," she says suddenly, her gaze snapping back to mine.
"You almost fucking died," She huffs, crossing her arms. "I mean, I know I'm a bitch to you, but I don't want you dead or else I might get sold off to marry another man."
There's teasing in her voice, the ghost of a smirk on her lips.
I chuckle, low and rough. "For a second, I thought you wanted me dead."
She tilts her head, considering. "I do. Just not like that. Too messy. I'd prefer something quieter. Poison, maybe."
"Good to know," I murmur.
Silence stretches between us, but it isn't uncomfortable.
I study her, the way her lashes lower slightly when she looks at me, the way she's sitting closer than she probably realizes.
"Did you stay here the whole time?" I question.
She scoffs. "Don't flatter yourself, Costa. I just wanted to make sure you didn't die and leave me dealing with your overdramatic family."
I grin, despite the pain. "Right. So nothing to do with the fact that you were actually worried about me?"
She rolls her eyes. "You really think you're that important to me?"
"Yes," I say without hesitation.
She bites back a smile, rolling her eyes."You're insufferable."
"And yet, here you are, by my side," I say, watching as she leans back against the chair, arms crossed, legs stretched out like she owns the place.
Aurelia exhales, her expression softening just a little before she speaks again. "I know you don't approve of drinking alcohol when you're in pain."
I don't have an issue with drinking to numb pain or escape for a while, but I've noticed that Aurelia relies on it too much. That's what makes it dangerous, she's on the edge of addiction, if she's not already there.
If she is, I need her to get help.
I arch a brow. "Because I have common sense?"
She smirks. "No, because you're a control freak."
I let out a low chuckle, ignoring the pull of pain in my shoulder. "And what exactly is your alternative, then?"
Aurelia's smirk widens, and there's a glint in her eye that makes my chest tighten in a way that has nothing to do with my injury. She leans forward slightly, like she's about to let me in on a secret. "I found a lava cake in the fridge."
I stare at her. "You're bribing me with dessert?"
"It's not just any dessert," she says, lifting a finger like she's making a grand statement. "It's lava cake. You're telling me you don't want warm, gooey chocolate after almost getting your shoulder blown off and sleeping for the past two days?"
I can't help it. I laugh. A real, deep laugh that shakes my chest and sends a bolt of pain through my shoulder. I bite it back, shaking my head at her. "You're ridiculous."
"And you're predictable," she fires back. "Which means I already grabbed a fork and everything."
There's something strangely intimate about this, her sitting here, offering me something as simple as dessert, like we're just two normal people instead of whatever the hell we are.
I exhale, shaking my head. "Fine. Give me the damn cake."
Aurelia grins like she's just won something. "Knew you'd cave."