I pull my coat tighter, half to keep out the cold, half to shut down the noise in my head. I take the stairs instead of the elevator, counting the seconds it takes for irritation to fade into something else. Curiosity, maybe. Whatever waits upstairs, it’s better handled alone.
Her door is closed when I reach it, so I knock once. Nothing. Another knock—sharper. Still nothing. Then a muffled voice.
“Hold on!”
There’s movement behind the door—the soft drag of bare feet, the muted click of metal against wood. The handle turns, hinges sigh, and then she’s there.
The robe clings like it’s part of her skin, tied loose enough to hint at what’s underneath. Damp hair clings to her collarbone, catching droplets that trail down before sinking into the fabric. Her skin is flushed from the shower, warm against the cool light spilling in from the hallway.
For a heartbeat, I forget why I came up. Every word I meant to say evaporates.
She freezes when she sees me. “You could’ve texted.”
My voice comes out lower than intended. “I did.”
Her mouth parts, a small, involuntary thing. She adjusts the robe, the belt pulling tighter around her waist. I catch the scent of her soap, something faintly sweet, and it hits harder than it should.
“I was in the shower,” she says, tightening the belt of her robe. “Patience apparently isn’t one of your strongest traits.”
I lean against the doorframe, unbothered. “You were taking too long.”
She glares, but it doesn’t quite land; she’s too flustered. The robe slips slightly and she catches it with a small curse, pulling it back into place.
For a split second, my focus follows the movement—the curve of her shoulder, the drop of water tracing down her collarbone, the soft tug of fabric against skin. It’s nothing, and yet it hits me harder than it should. My pulse jumps, quick and unwelcome, and I hate that she notices the pause.
“Nice timing,” she mutters.
The corner of my jaw tightens. I need it gone, that flicker of heat she doesn’t even realize she’s caused. “Get dressed,” I say, sharper than before. “We’re leaving.”
She exhales through her nose, muttering something about divine punishment, and disappears inside. The door clicks shut, leaving me in the hallway with nothing but the scent of her shampoo. I tell myself to look away from the crack of light under the door and fail.
After a few minutes, the latch turns again. She steps out dressed, hair still damp but brushed, jeans hugging her legs, blouse soft and pale against her skin. The transformation is immediate; the flustered girl in the robe is gone, replaced by someone trying very hard to pretend none of that happened.
“Happy now?” she asks, one hand still at the collar of her blouse like she’s daring me to comment.
“Getting there.” My eyes trace her for half a second longer than I should—the neat line of the fabric, the way the color warms against her skin. She’s beautiful, and the worst part is that she doesn’t seem to know it.
She gives me a look sharp enough to cut. “You really enjoy this control thing, don’t you?”
I take a slow breath, forcing my voice even. “It works.”
“On who?” Her chin lifts, just a little. She’s testing me now, eyes locked on mine. There’s no fear there, only infuriating defiance.
My mouth almost curves into a smile, but I kill it before it shows. “On everyone,” I say simply.
She mutters something under her breath, brushing past me toward the door. The faint smell of her shampoo catches again, and for a moment it’s too easy to imagine how quickly all that defiance would change if I just reached out, pulled her closer, made her?—
I shut the thought down. Control wins, as always.
“Let’s go,” I say, and follow her out.
The sisters are waiting for us when we reach the street. Milana waves from the back seat before the car even stops. “Finally! We thought you’d fallen asleep in there.”
Calina’s smile is softer. “Hi, Kira,” she calls through the open window. “You look lovely.”
Kira hesitates for half a second, then returns the smile, still clutching her bag. “Hello.”
Milana leans forward, grinning. “See? I told you she’d be on time. You worried for nothing, Tyoma.”
