"The most dangerous thing is to care too much...to be emotionally invested." - Donna Tartt
Veronica
The warmth of the restaurant, the easy flow of conversation, the way Saint looked at me… it was a welcome reprieve, a flicker of hope in the encroaching darkness. For a few hours, I almost forgot about the roses, about the fear that had taken root in my heart. Almost.
As we headed back upstairs, the weight of the evening settled upon me again. The silence in the elevator was thick with unspoken tension. I glanced at Saint. He was quiet, his gaze fixed on the digital numbers flickering above the doors, his expression unreadable. But I could feel the energy radiating off him, a mixture of concern and something else… something that made my heart flutter in my chest.
Back in the hallway, outside our adjoining rooms, I hesitated. The thought of being alone in my room, surrounded by the silence and the shadows, was unsettling. I turned to Saint, a spontaneous idea forming in my mind.
“Would you… would you want to watch a movie?” I asked, the words tumbling out before I could second-guess myself. “I have a few that I haven’t gotten around to watching yet.”
He looked surprised for a moment, then a slow smile spread across his face. “Sure, Veronica,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. “That sounds… nice.”
We went into my room. It was a beautiful suite, but tonight, it felt cold and impersonal. Daisy, my small terrier mix, greeted us with a wagging tail and a happy bark, a welcome bit of warmth in the chill that had settled over me. I picked her up, holding her close. I put on a movie, some lighthearted rom-com I’d downloaded weeks ago, but neither of us paid much attention to it. We talked some more, about the case he was working on, about Marcus’s efforts to find out who was behind the roses, about anything and everything to avoid the heavy thoughts that swirled in my mind.
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As the movie played, I found myself relaxing in Saint’s presence. He was so strong, so capable, so utterly in control. He made me feel safe, protected. And as the evening wore on, I found myself drawn to him in a way I hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t just physical attraction, though there was plenty of that. It was something deeper, a connection that resonated within me. I found myself wanting to lean on him, to confide in him, to trust him with the fear that gnawed at me.
At some point, I drifted off, my head resting against his shoulder, Daisy curled up in my arms. I felt him shift slightly, adjusting so I’d be more comfortable, and then I was asleep, lulled by his steady presence and the gentle rise and fall of Daisy's breathing.
Suddenly, I was falling, tumbling into a dark abyss, the air thick with dread. Faces flickered in the shadows, distorted and menacing, whispering threats I couldn't understand. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. Hands reached for me, cold and clammy, holding me down, down, down…
"Veronica! Wake up!"
Strong hands shook my shoulders, pulling me back from the terrifying depths of sleep. I gasped, my eyes flying open, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. Daisy, startled by my sudden movement, whined softly and shifted in my arms.
Saint's face hovered above me, his expression etched with concern. "You were having a nightmare," he said, his voice gentle but urgent. "Are you alright?"
I blinked, trying to orient myself. The images from the nightmare still clung to me, making it hard to breathe. "I… I don't know," I stammered, my voice trembling. "It was so real."
He sat beside me on the bed, his hand resting lightly on my arm. Daisy, now fully awake, licked my hand as if to offer comfort. "It's okay," he murmured. "You're awake now. You're safe."
His touch, his presence, was grounding, a lifeline in the swirling chaos of my fear. Slowly, the remnants of the nightmare began to recede, replaced by the warmth of his hand, the gentle weight of Daisy in my arms, and the steady rhythm of his breathing. He stayed with me, his presence a silent reassurance, until the tremors subsided and my breathing returned to normal.
"Do you want me to sit with you for a bit?" he asked softly. "Until you fall back asleep? Sometimes it helps."
I nodded, unable to speak, the fear still too close. He didn't push, just sat there beside me, his presence a comforting weight in the darkness. Daisy settled back down in my arms, content to be petted. He talked quietly, his voice low and soothing, telling me about a funny incident from his childhood, a silly story about his dog. I stroked Daisy’s soft fur, her gentle presence a small comfort as I listened to Saint's story. It was exactly what I needed, a gentle distraction from the lingering fear. Slowly, my eyelids grew heavy again, and I drifted back to sleep, this time, his presence a shield against the darkness.