The hospital hallway smelled faintly of antiseptic and cold metal.
Sally walked briskly, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.
Behind her, Jack followed, tense and silent.
His sister held onto his sleeve, worried for both him—and the boy waiting ahead.
When they reached the room, the door was slightly open.
Sally pushed it gently.
Inside—
The boy was standing beside the bed,
hands shaking as he wiped his sister's forehead with a damp cloth.
His sister lay unconscious,
breathing shallowly,
her dark lashes resting gently on her cheeks.
The boy didn't even notice them at first.
"Please… wake up…" he whispered, voice cracking.
Jack froze at the doorway.
Something about the room felt different—
still, heavy, intimate.
But then…
Jack's eyes landed on her.
The boy's sister.
And he went still.
Completely still.
She was nothing like the girls he knew—
nothing like the chaos and darkness inside him.
She was soft.
Fragile-looking.
Her face pale but delicate,
with a gentle beauty that struck him like a punch to the chest.
For a moment—
a long moment—
Jack forgot how to breathe.
His expression shifted, subtly but unmistakably.
Eyes widening.
Jaw loosening.
Shoulders lowering.
A silent, stunned realization washed over him:
He was attracted to her.
Instantly.
Hopelessly.
Dangerously.
Sally noticed immediately.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Oh no…" she muttered under her breath.
Jack didn't even hear.
He took a small step into the room,
drawn toward the girl like gravity pulling him.
"What… happened to her?" Jack asked quietly—
but his voice wasn't directed at the boy.
He was talking to the girl on the bed,
as if his words were meant for her alone.
The boy finally noticed them.
He nearly stumbled backward, fear flashing across his face.
Sally approached him gently.
"She's stable," she said softly.
"The doctor said she fainted from exhaustion."
The boy nodded weakly, clutching the side of the bed.
But Jack…
Jack could not tear his eyes away from the girl.
He moved closer, standing beside the bed.
Not aggressively—
not like the old Jack.
But cautiously.
Curiously.
As if afraid she might shatter.
Her lashes fluttered slightly,
her fingers twitching gently against the sheets.
Jack's breath caught.
For the first time in his entire life…
his heart skipped.
"What's her name?" he asked the boy—
voice strangely sincere.
The boy blinked.
"L–Lina," he whispered.
"Her name is Lina."
Jack repeated the name softly under his breath,
as if testing how it felt on his tongue.
"…Lina."
It felt beautiful.
Dangerously beautiful.
His sister noticed the change and stepped closer.
"Jack," she whispered warningly.
"No."
He didn't answer.
He simply stared at Lina,
eyes full of something no one had ever seen in him before—
Softness.
Curiosity.
Longing.
Sally crossed her arms.
"This is new," she murmured.
Jack finally tore his gaze away long enough to whisper:
"Why didn't anyone tell me she looked like… that?"
His sister slapped his arm.
"Jack! She's sick!"
But he didn't flinch.
He simply whispered again—
eyes returning to Lina.
"She's… stunning."
Sally sighed loudly.
"Oh fantastic," she muttered.
"As if one sibling romance wasn't enough chaos."
Jack didn't hear a word.
He took one more step,
standing inches from where Lina rested.
And for once—
Jack Blackwell, the storm, the monster, the danger—
looked disarmed.
Completely and utterly disarmed.
He whispered softly:
"I think I'm in trouble."
The heart monitor beeped softly in the dim hospital room,
the air cold against Lina's skin.
Her eyelashes fluttered.
Her fingers twitched.
A quiet breath escaped her lips.
Slowly—
as if waking from a dream—
she opened her eyes.
The world was blurry at first.
White ceiling.
Soft lights.
Shadows.
Then her vision sharpened.
And she saw him.
Jack.
Sitting beside her bed.
Leaning forward.
Elbows on his knees.
Eyes locked on her face with an intensity that felt like gravity.
He wasn't smiling.
He wasn't smirking.
He wasn't pretending.
He just watched her—
as if he had been there for hours,
waiting for her to return to life.
Lina inhaled sharply.
The first face she saw wasn't her brother.
Not the doctor.
Not someone familiar.
It was this man.
Tall.
Beautiful.
Shadowed.
Eyes deep with something unreadable—
something dark
and dangerous
and devastatingly magnetic.
She swallowed.
"W–Who… are you?" she whispered, voice fragile.
But Jack didn't move.
He didn't blink.
He said her name in a low, soft voice:
"Lina…"
Her breath hitched.
How did he know her name?
Why did it sound so gentle…
so wrong…
so right?
Before she could speak again—
"Lina!"
Her brother rushed into the room,
relief tearing through his voice.
Jack immediately leaned back,
mask slipping over his expression again,
but the intensity in his eyes didn't fade.
The boy knelt beside his sister,
taking her hand.
"Lina, look at me—are you okay? Can you hear me?"
Lina nodded weakly,
but her gaze drifted back to Jack involuntarily.
She didn't know why.
Didn't understand the pull.
Didn't understand the shiver running down her spine.
Her brother noticed her staring.
His stomach dropped.
"Lina…?" he whispered nervously.
"Why are you looking at him like that?"
She blinked, startled out of her trance.
"I… I don't know."
Jack smirked faintly—
not cruelly,
not mockingly,
but in a way that said:
"I know."Sally stepped into the room quietly,
crossing her arms as she watched the exchange.
Her eyes flicked between Jack and Lina—
once,
twice,
then narrowed.
"Of course," she muttered under her breath.
"He's fallen for her."
She walked to the bed and touched Lina's forehead gently.
"Don't worry, love. You're safe now."
But her eyes stayed on Jack.
Sharp.
Warning.
Knowing.
Jack didn't look away.
He met her stare head-on.
Sally sighed.
"This is going to be a problem."
The girl—Jack's biological sister—stood quietly near the window.
She watched Jack.
She watched Lina.
And she felt something cold settle in her chest.
"Oh no…" she whispered to herself.
"He likes her."
She looked at the boy—Lina's brother—
already pale, already trembling with worry.
This was going to break him.
This was going to break all of them.
But Jack…
Jack didn't see any of that.
All he saw was Lina.
Awake.
Beautiful.
Vulnerable.
And the moment she looked at him again—
eyes soft, fuzzy with confusion but drawn to him—
Jack felt something dark and possessive twist inside his chest.
Something he hadn't felt before.
Something dangerous.
Something inevitable.