The room was dark.
Not completely.
A faint glow from the city lights slipped through the curtains, casting shadows across the walls.
Sophia lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Wide awake.
Her body was exhausted.
But her mind refused to rest.
Every second felt louder in the silence.
Every breath too noticeable.
And the worst part?
She could feel him.
Even without looking.
Luciano.
Across the room.
Still awake.
Still watching.
It was suffocating.
"You're not even trying to sleep, are you?" she said quietly.
Silence.
Then—
"No."
Of course.
Sophia let out a slow breath, turning slightly onto her side.
"Do you ever sleep?" she asked.
A pause.
"Sometimes."
Not helpful.
She rolled her eyes slightly, even though he probably couldn't see it.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered.
"Which part?"
"All of it," she said. "This… situation. Me being here. You acting like this is normal."
"It is normal."
She sat up slightly, frustration rising again. "No, it's not!"
Luciano didn't respond immediately.
Then—
"It is for me."
That shut her up.
For a moment.
Because that—
That said more than anything else.
Sophia looked toward him, her eyes adjusting to the dim light.
She could make out his figure now.
Standing near the window.
Still.
Like he hadn't moved in hours.
"Do you ever get tired?" she asked softly.
A pause.
"Yes."
"Then why don't you rest?"
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Then—
"Because I don't trust the night."
Her brows furrowed slightly.
"What does that mean?"
Luciano finally turned slightly, his face half-lit by the faint light.
"It means," he said quietly, "things happen when people think no one is watching."
Sophia's chest tightened.
Her mind instantly went back to what she overheard.
I watched her die.
Something about the night…
Something about losing control…
It all connected.
"You're afraid," she said before she could stop herself.
Silence.
Then—
"No."
She tilted her head slightly. "That sounded like fear."
Luciano's gaze sharpened.
"It's not fear," he said. "It's awareness."
"Same thing," she replied.
"It's not."
Their eyes held.
Even in the dark.
Even across the room.
The tension was still there.
Always there.
Sophia exhaled slowly, lying back again.
"Then what are you afraid of?" she asked quietly.
A dangerous question.
One she wasn't sure he would answer.
For a moment—
She thought he wouldn't.
Then—
"Losing control."
Her breath caught.
That… she didn't expect.
Not so directly.
"Over what?" she asked softly.
A pause.
Then—
"You."
Her heart skipped.
The word settled into the silence like a weight.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Sophia sat up again slowly, her eyes locking onto his figure.
"What does that mean?" she asked, her voice barely steady.
Luciano didn't move.
Didn't look away.
"It means," he said quietly, "you make me react in ways I don't like."
Her pulse quickened.
"That's not my fault."
"I know."
"Then why am I the one being punished for it?" she challenged.
Silence.
Then—
"You're not."
Her brows furrowed. "Really? Because being locked in your room feels like punishment."
"It's protection."
"From what?" she asked.
A pause.
Then—
"Me."
The answer hit her harder than anything else.
Sophia stared at him, her chest tightening.
"You're protecting me… from you?" she repeated.
"Yes."
Her mind struggled to catch up.
"That doesn't make any sense."
"It doesn't have to."
"That's not how things work," she said.
"It is for me."
Frustration flickered again—but this time, it was mixed with something else.
Something softer.
Something more dangerous.
"You're not as in control as you think you are," she said quietly.
Luciano's gaze darkened.
"I am."
"No," she shook her head slightly. "You're just better at hiding it."
Silence.
Then—
Luciano moved.
Slowly.
Walking toward the bed.
Toward her.
Her pulse spiked instantly.
But she didn't move.
Didn't back away.
Didn't run.
She just watched him.
As he got closer.
And closer.
Until he stopped right beside the bed.
Looking down at her.
"You talk too much," he said quietly.
Her breath hitched.
"Then make me stop," she whispered.
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Dangerous.
Reckless.
But she didn't take them back.
Luciano stilled.
Completely.
The air shifted.
Thicker.
Heavier.
His gaze dropped to her lips again.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Sophia's heart pounded wildly.
This was it.
That same moment from before—
But closer.
More intense.
More dangerous.
"You don't know what you're asking for," he said, his voice lower now.
"Then show me."
Another mistake.
A bigger one.
Because this time—
Luciano didn't pull away immediately.
He leaned down slightly.
Close enough that she could feel his breath again.
Feel the tension.
The restraint.
Breaking.
Her fingers tightened slightly against the sheets.
Her mind screamed at her to stop.
To move.
To end this.
But her body didn't listen.
And that terrified her.
For a second—
Everything paused.
Balanced.
On the edge of something neither of them could take back.
Then—
Luciano pulled back sharply.
Like he had hit a limit.
Like something inside him snapped him out of it.
He stepped away quickly, turning his back to her again.
Breathing slower.
Controlled.
But not calm.
Not completely.
"Go to sleep," he said.
His voice was different now.
Rougher.
Tighter.
Sophia sat there, stunned.
Her heart still racing.
Her thoughts tangled.
"You almost—" she started.
"Don't."
The word cut her off immediately.
She fell silent.
Because she understood.
He didn't want to talk about it.
Didn't want to acknowledge how close that moment had come.
And maybe…
Neither did she.
Slowly, Sophia lay back down again, staring at the ceiling.
But now—
Everything felt different.
He wasn't just controlling her.
He was controlling himself.
And that meant one thing.
She wasn't the only one trapped in this room.
He was too.
Across the room, Luciano stood still, his jaw tight, his thoughts racing.
Because for the first time in years—
He had almost crossed a line he couldn't come back from.
And the worst part?
He wasn't sure he would stop next time.