The room was quiet after the doctor left, washed in soft yellow light from the overhead lamp. Rain tapped gently against the window now, no longer a roar but a whisper, as if the storm itself was exhausted. Elena rested against her pillow, still warm from her earlier thoughts, her cheeks faintly pink from the memory of waking up to those storm-colored eyes.
She was just beginning to convince her heart to calm down when the door opened with a soft, hesitant push.
A familiar silhouette stepped inside.
Adrian.
He moved quietly, as if afraid to disturb her rest. His clothes were still damp around the edges, his hair slightly messy from running his hand through it too many times. His eyes—those intense, cloudy eyes—softened the moment they found hers.
"Hey," he said gently, almost in a whisper.
Her heart fluttered. Again.
She sat up too quickly. "Hi."
"No, no—lie down," he said at once, rushing forward a few steps. "You shouldn't sit up that fast."
His concern sent warmth through her. She lowered herself slowly, though her eyes stayed locked on him, absorbing every detail.
He dragged the chair closer and sat, his posture a little stiff, as if unsure whether he had the right to be near her.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Better," she whispered. "Thank you. For… everything."
"You don't have to thank me," he said, shaking his head. "I was just… there at the right time."
She smiled softly, unable to help it. "Still. You helped me."
A small silence bloomed between them—warm, comfortable, filled with curiosity and something else neither dared to name.
He cleared his throat. "Um… I realized we never actually exchanged names."
Her lips curved. "True."
He offered a small, reluctant smile. "I'm Adrian."
"Elena," she replied softly, the name settling between them like a secret.
He repeated it under his breath as if testing how it felt to say it.
"Elena."
The way her name sounded in his voice made something inside her sigh.
She touched her hair shyly. "So… you're not from here?"
"No," he said. "I'm from Rome. I came here two days ago."
Her eyes widened. "Rome?"
He nodded, leaning back slightly. "I'm trying to set up a branch of my business here. It's a mess right now—documents, meetings, everything. But a friend invited me and offered help, so… here I am."
Elena listened with quiet fascination. Everything about him fascinated her. The way he spoke, the slight accent coloring his English, and the mix of weariness and determination in his expression.
"That sounds… exciting," she said.
"More chaotic than exciting," he admitted with a chuckle. "But I'm getting there."
"And your map didn't work because of the rain?" she guessed.
"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Signal disappeared. GPS stopped working. I kept driving until I ended up at the wrong end of the city."
She nodded slowly. "Storms here do that sometimes."
He looked at her with a soft, curious smile. "And you? What do you do?"
"I'm in university," she said. "Final year. I'm graduating soon."
He blinked, genuinely impressed. "That's really great, Elena."
Her chest tightened in the sweetest way.
"Thank you," she murmured.
He shifted slightly, his eyes searching hers. "You know… you scared me out there."
She swallowed. "I scared myself too."
"You fainted so suddenly. I thought—" He paused, exhaling shakily. "I thought something terrible had happened."
Her heart warmed. "I'm okay. Really?"
Their eyes lingered on each other a moment too long. Something delicate and unspoken passed between them—something neither of them had the courage or the right to name.
But before either could speak again, a frantic, trembling voice erupted behind them.
"Elena!"
They both startled.
Elena's head whipped toward the door just as her father rushed inside, panic written across every line on his face. His eyes were wide, his breath short, and his hair messy from the wind. He looked as though he had sprinted the entire way here.
"Papa…" Elena whispered.
He hurried to her side, cupping her face in trembling hands. "Are you alright? What happened? Why didn't you call? The librarian said they closed early, you weren't home, your phone was off—"
"Papa, I'm okay," she said softly.
Adrian rose from his chair, stepping back respectfully. He looked like he wanted to explain but didn't know how to start—or if he even had the right to.
Her father turned sharply toward him. "What happened? Were you with her?"
Elena saw panic flicker in Adrian's eyes.
Before he could open his mouth—
Before he could tell the truth—
Before he could blame himself—
Elena spoke quickly.
"He helped me, Papa. I… I felt unwell and fainted in the road. He brought me to the hospital."
Adrian froze.
Her father paused.
Then her father exhaled deeply and gripped Elena's hand.
"Oh thank God… thank God."
He turned to Adrian, his voice thick with relief.
"Thank you, son. Truly. For bringing my daughter here."
Adrian looked stunned. Guilty. Conflicted.
He glanced at Elena, and she gave the smallest shake of her head—
Don't say anything.
"It was nothing, sir," Adrian said quietly. "Anyone would've helped."
Her father studied him. "I haven't seen you in this city before."
Adrian nodded politely. "I'm not from here. A friend invited me to set up my business. I was trying to find his place, but the storm… and the map… everything stopped working."
Her father's expression softened with understanding. "Ah. Yes, the signals here are terrible during rain."
He placed a hand on Adrian's shoulder. "It's late. And you look like you've been through hell. You're coming home with us tonight. No arguments. Hotels are dangerous in weather like this."
Adrian shook his head quickly. "No, sir, that's too generous. I can manage—"
"No," her father insisted. "You helped my daughter. Let me return the kindness."
Elena added softly, "Please… it's the least we can do."
Their eyes met for a breath.
He hesitated.
Then exhaled, defeated but touched.
"…Alright."
Her father smiled, relieved, and walked out to speak with the doctor about discharge paperwork.
The room fell silent.
Adrian watched the door close, then slowly turned to Elena, his expression unreadable.
"You didn't tell him," he said quietly.
Elena looked down at her hands. "Tell him what?"
"That I hit you."
He wasn't angry.
He wasn't defensive.
He sounded… confused.
Almost hurt.
Elena lifted her gaze slowly, meeting his eyes with a gentle, steady expression.
"Because you didn't," she said softly. "I stepped into the road without looking. I was lost. I panicked. It was my fault."
He shook his head. "I still should've—"
"You saved me," she interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. "That matters more than anything else."
His breath caught—just slightly.
She continued, cheeks warming faintly, "And… I didn't want Papa to worry more. He would've blamed you. He would've blamed everyone. You didn't deserve that."
Silence stretched between them—
thick, warm, and intimate in a way neither expected.
Adrian's voice dropped, almost too soft.
"You're… kinder than you should be."
Elena smiled, shy and quiet. "Not really."
"Yes," he murmured, eyes softening. "Really."
Their gazes held, neither looking away this time.
A subtle shift, a quiet acknowledgement, a feeling blooming—too early, too delicate, too impossible to name.
But real.
He exhaled slowly, deeply.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"For what?"
"For… everything."
She smiled again, her heart fluttering.
And for the first time since the storm began—
The air felt warm.
The drive to Elena's home was quiet at first, filled only with the soft hum of the engine and the fading drips of rain against the windows. Elena sat in the back seat beside Adrian—her father had insisted on driving, claiming she needed rest.
Adrian kept glancing at her in the reflection of the window, careful, subtle, worried.
She pretended not to notice.
Her heart refused to calm down.
Every time the car hit a bump, his hand would twitch, as if prepared to steady her if needed. She found herself biting back a smile.
As the road curved and the neighborhoods changed, the city scenery slowly transformed: narrow lanes widened, buildings grew elegant, and luxurious gates began appearing like sentinels guarding quiet wealth.
Adrian blinked, confused.
He leaned forward slightly. "Where are we going?"
Elena's father answered, amused, "Home."
Adrian's brows furrowed. "But… this area looks—"
The car turned into a long, tree-lined driveway illuminated by soft golden lights. Flowers bordered the entrance like something out of a carefully crafted dream. At the end stood a white mansion, tall and regal, with balconies draped in vines and warm windows glowing like lanterns.
Adrian stared.
Actually stared.
"Wait," he said slowly. "You live here?"
Elena nodded, leaning slightly forward so she could see his face.
"You're—" he began, speechless, "you're rich."
She burst into laughter.
Soft, musical, almost childlike.
Adrian blinked, startled by the sound—
like he wasn't expecting her laughter to feel so warm.
Elena covered her mouth, still smiling. "Is it really that shocking?"
He pointed toward the giant house with wide eyes. "Elena, this is not a house. This is—this is a palace. A movie mansion. A fairy-tale castle. What do you mean 'we live here' like it's normal?"
She giggled again, unable to help it. "It is normal. To me, at least."
He shook his head in disbelief, still staring out the window. "I thought you were a university student… I didn't expect…"
He motioned toward the sprawling estate helplessly.
Her smile softened. "Money doesn't change education."
His eyes met hers, warmed by admiration.
"You're… humble," he said quietly.
She looked down, cheeks warming. "I try."
The car stopped before the grand staircase. Adrian moved quickly, stepping out before her father could, and walked around to her side.
He opened the door gently and extended his hand.
"Elena," he said softly. "Careful."
Her breath caught.
His hand was warm—strong yet impossibly gentle.
For a moment, the world around her blurred.
The rain-washed air, the grand house, even the soft lights—everything melted into a haze, leaving only the sensation of his fingers wrapping around hers.
A simple touch.
Yet she felt it in her chest, her stomach, her breath.
It scared her.
It thrilled her.
It made her heart flutter in fragile, dizzy circles.
She stepped out slowly, her knees weaker than she liked to admit. Adrian's hand steadied her, lingering half a second longer than necessary.
He seemed to notice it too—because he gently pulled away, clearing his throat.
Her father walked ahead, already calling for someone inside.
The moment Elena stepped into the foyer, warmth and familiarity swallowed her. The grand hallway was filled with chandeliers, soft ivory rugs, and the faint scent of jasmine floating from somewhere. The servants rushed toward her instantly—maids, guards, helpers—voices overlapping in a chaotic wave of concern.
"Miss Elena, are you alright?"
"What happened?"
"We were so worried!"
One maid clasped her hands together. "Sir said you fainted—are you hurt? Should we call the doctor inside?"
Another wiped tears dramatically. "You scared all of us!"
Elena laughed softly. "I'm fine. Really."
Her father lifted his hand, silencing everyone with a calm gesture.
"She's alright," he said. "Just fainted. Nothing serious."
Relief washed over the servants like a tide of warmth. But before they could shower her with more questions, her father added firmly:
"And thank him—he saved her."
He pointed toward Adrian.
Every face turned.
Their expressions shifted instantly—gratitude, admiration, relief. Several bowed politely.
"Thank you, sir."
"You brought our girl back safely."
Adrian stiffened awkwardly, his ears turning slightly red. "It was nothing. Really."
Elena watched him with soft eyes. His discomfort was endearing. He clearly wasn't used to this kind of attention.
But then—
A voice cut through the air like a burst of sunlight.
"Adrian?"
Elena's smile froze.
Her heartbeat stalled.
That voice—
she would recognize it anywhere.
Her sister.
Sienna.
Before Elena could fully turn, Sienna rushed down the grand staircase, her footsteps light yet hurried, her silk dress flowing behind her like a cascade of color.
And then—
she threw herself into Adrian's arms.
Tightly.
Eagerly.
As if she had been waiting for him.
Adrian staggered slightly, surprised, but lifted his arms to steady her out of instinct.
"Sienna?" he breathed, shocked. "You—you're here?"
Elena felt her world stop.
Her stomach dropped.
Her breath caught painfully.
She stood frozen, watching her sister—her elegant, confident, adored sister—wrap her arms around the man who had carried Elena through the rain.
The man Elena had just begun to feel something for.
Something fragile.
Something new.
She couldn't breathe.
She couldn't move.
Her father smiled proudly, unaware of the storm brewing inside Elena.
"Oh good, Sienna—you know each other," he said with relief. "I wasn't sure he'd arrive tonight."
Adrian pulled back from the embrace, breath unsteady, his eyes flicking between Sienna and Elena.
And his face—
Held guilt.
Shock.
Conflict.
Sienna held his arm possessively, smiling brightly, completely oblivious to the silent earthquake inside Elena.
"You're finally here," she said softly to Adrian. "I missed you."
Elena's heart cracked in one clean, quiet line.
And for the first time since waking up in the hospital—
something inside her began to fade.