Dawn broke across the sky, blazed in slight gold and indigo, light barely stretching across the silent alleyways. The city was still asleep except for me. I stepped out of her apartment, shirt clinging to my rib, now bandaged beneath the black coat. The fabric hung on my shoulder. She was still asleep inside, slumped awkwardly against the wall in that chair, her head tilted, strands of her hair falling over her cheek, unguarded.
She didn't even ask why I was stabbed. Just helped. Her words are still etched in my mind and my soul... "You arenota monster."
A woman like that should be afraid of a man like me. She wasn't. I called my driver, my voice firm and cold, "Bring the car around Eastwood alley. Now, " Waiting outside, leaning against the stairs of the wall, my gaze fell back to her apartment door. With one hand, I raised my phone and clicked a picture of it. For some stupid reason, I couldn't explain, and couldn't place my hands. I scoffed under my breath, but my chest still felt tight. As I heard the tires come to a halt, I walked towards the car and settled inside.
Days later ~ Sylus's Mansion
The sunlight streamed through tall glass windows, and the marble floor I rarely walk barefoot on. I lounged on he wide leather sofa, Legs stretched out, trying to focus on the conversation of my 2 idiotic best friends, Hyunwoo and Alex, who were discussing about auction in Paris. I wasn't listening, my mind still half lost in the scent of those vanilla& roses, and the faint smell of blood entangled. The voice of my assistant pulled me out of my thoughts. Always on time.
"Boss.The file." I straightened up, fingers brushing over the closed black folder as if it were treasure I was screaming for. Opening it, the first thing I saw was her.
Name. Ella DeAva.
Age- 26
Occupation- Works at a flower shop, modeling intern.
Family- None, Orphan
An odd feeling settled in my mind as I scanned her file. She lived quietly,. A life I couldn't touch without turning it into ash, but I wanted to.I wanted to know more about her, more about what was going on within myself, which I couldn't quite put my finger on.
Alex leaned over my shoulder, whisteling "She's kind of damn. But for me, My Girlfriend is the prettiest." Hyunwoo was already texting, eyes locked on her profile picture. Found her. Insta ID found!" his voice laced with excitement.
I looked, just to get them off her page, but then I saw it. Her smile. Eye full of sunlight. Unfiltered, I stared longer than I should have, engraving every contour of her face where already engraved in my mind
and fuck I cant get enough I dont want to. Thirsty for something so bad is so unlike me. But not for her body. For herexistence. And god, that was worse.
"Wanting someone like this wasn't in my blood.It wasn't in my rules." But suddenly, I wanted to burn them all.
Ella's Pov~
The week passed like nothing had ever happened. The quiet routine of the flower shop, the rustle of petals, and the dim warm ambience glowed the same. As if a bleeding stranger hadn't collapsed into my arms just nights ago.
I didn't even know his name.
It was the Weekend. Warm sunlight filtered through the dusty windows, casting golden lines on the floor. My hands moved automatically, trimming stems, misting bouquets.
The little bell above the door jingled. I glanced up from the counter, fingers brushing away a loose strand of hair.
A man stepped in.
Tall. Dark hair slicked back effortlessly. A long trench coat sat perfectly over broad shoulders. Sharp jaw, sculpted lips, and those eyes dark, unreadable, and hauntingly familiar.
They locked with mine and didn't move.
Something about him made my breath catch.
"One bouquet of roses, please," he said, voice low, smooth, expensive.
I nodded, almost forgetting to blink. "What kind of roses would you like? Black velvet, crimson-"
"Whichever you like."His voice cut through mine, not rude, just… deliberate. He was still looking at me.
My fingers fumbled slightly as I reached for the black velvet stems. Aunt had told me this morning to push the new perfumes we needed sales. I swallowed and forced a polite tone.
"Would you… like a perfume to go with the bouquet?"
His gaze narrowed slightly. "Perfume?"
"Yes," I said, gesturing toward the small display, "They pair well with roses."
I laid out a few bottles of rose & vanilla, strawberry & champagnedusk…He didn't even glance at them.
Sylus ~"What's your recommendation?"
I hesitated. "My signature… is Vanilla and Roses. A hint of musk."
He nodded once. I sprayed a small amount into the cap and extended my wrist toward him to offer the scent. His hand didn't take the cap. Instead, he leaned forward and gently grasped my wrist with his long fingers. Lowered his head. Inhaled slowly, right against my skin.
I forgot to breathe. A warm chill spread over me, heat and tension twisting down my spine.
Sylus's POV ~
Her scent unraveled me.. Vanilla. Roses. That same damn fragrance…Soft, haunting, maddening.It wrapped around my mind like silk drawn across bare skin, gentle, slow, and undeniably dangerous. The one that lingered on her pillow when I bled in those arms of her.The one that clouded my head as she dabbed my forehead with trembling fingers.
I remembered that night too clearly now. Her sleepy eyes. Her cold hands. That soft voice was asking me if I was okay. And here she was again… offering me her wrist, unguarded. Just like that night.
I leaned in, inhaling carefully, too carefully for a man who's spent his life walking through fire. The scent hit me like déjàvu dressed in temptation. Everything inside me pulled tight.
She didn't even flinch. That's what undid me. The innocent look on her face . The softness. The way she stood there, unaware of the storm she stirred in me.
I wasn't supposed to feel like this.Not for anyone.
Ella. You have no idea how badly I am getting messed up.. That I wasn't here for roses.I was here for "her". And the way her skin felt under my fingers…I didn't want to let go. "What the hell was wrong with me?" I bought the perfume without a word, the bottle cold in my palm, but her warmth still seared into my skin.
"Who the hell am I turning into?" I don't get shaken. I don't feel like this. I bury. I burn. I break before they can see it coming.
But something about her soft, simple, real is rewritingsomething in me. And I don't know if I want it to stop. I looked down at the bottle in my hand again. A fragile glass vial. So easily shattered.
"Like her. Like whatever this is inside me."