Diarmid stood by the door, his presence effortlessly commanding even in the quiet, intimate space of Josh’s place. Arwen lingered a few steps away, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. She hesitated, searching for the right words, the silence between them filled with unspoken thoughts.
“Thanks for checking in on me,” she said softly, finally breaking the quiet. Her gaze flickered up to meet his, then darted away as her cheeks warmed. “You didn’t have to, but... I appreciate it.”
Diarmid’s lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “You don’t need to thank me, Arwen,” he replied, his voice deep and steady. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I am,” she said quickly, then hesitated. “Well, I will be. Things have just been... a lot lately.”
His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like the weight of the world wasn’t so heavy. “If you ever need someone to talk to... or just someone to listen, you know where to find me.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the quiet sincerity in his tone. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
Diarmid shifted slightly, his hands slipping into his jacket pockets. “I’ll see you at the university tomorrow?” he asked, his tone casual but holding a hint of anticipation.
Arwen nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
He held her gaze for a moment longer, his golden-brown eyes warm and steady, before he finally turned toward the door. “Goodnight, Arwen,” he said softly.
“Goodnight,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She lingered for a moment, then wandered over to the window. Parting the curtain just slightly, she watched as Diarmid climbed into his SUV. His movements were smooth and deliberate, as if he carried an unshakable confidence in everything he did.
The roar of the engine echoed faintly in the stillness of the night, and as he drove away, Arwen found herself smiling softly.
“See you tomorrow,” she murmured to herself, the words carrying a strange warmth that she didn’t fully understand.
The atmosphere in the room felt suddenly lighter but heavier at the same time, as if a piece of her had gone with him, yet his presence still lingered in the air, like the echo of a whisper that refused to fade.
She didn’t know how long she had been standing there when she heard a soft knock on the door, followed by Diarmid’s low voice calling out gently, “Arwen?”
Her heart skipped. Was he still here?
Without thinking, she opened the door, and there he was, standing just outside, bathed in the dim light from the hallway. His dark jacket seemed to swallow up the faint glow from the lamp beside him, but his eyes... his eyes still held that spark, that intensity that made her feel like she could drown in them and still crave more.
"Diarmid?" She said his name softly, unsure of what to say next. Her fingers nervously fidgeted with the edge of the door.
He smiled at her, but there was something softer about it than before—almost like he was hesitating, as if he, too, was trying to figure out what came next. "I didn’t want to leave without saying goodnight and sweet dreams" His voice was low, smooth, with a hint of something more that she couldn’t quite place.
Her pulse quickened, and for a moment, she almost forgot how to breathe. Why does it always feel like this when he’s near? She wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but her words caught in her throat.
Instead, she stepped aside, opening the door just a little wider. "Of course. Sweet Dreams too, Diarmid."
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He paused, his gaze briefly flicking down at her, taking in every detail of her. "Are you sure you’re alright?" he asked, his voice still warm but edged with concern. He stepped just inside, his body language suggesting he wanted to stay longer, to protect her from something he wasn’t entirely sure of. His gaze lingered on her, searching her face as if he could read her thoughts.
Arwen swallowed, trying to steady herself. How can he make me feel so safe yet so... vulnerable? “I’m fine,” she managed, even though the quiet pull in her chest was telling her she wasn’t. She had a million things to say, questions she needed answers to. But for now, all she wanted was to hear his voice, feel his presence.
He studied her for a moment longer, then nodded slowly, his expression softening, but still full of that quiet intensity. "I'll see you tomorrow, Don’t stay up worrying about things you can’t control, Arwen."
Her heart skipped a beat at the words—Don’t stay up worrying. It was as if he had known exactly what was on her mind. She took a deep breath, her lips parting slightly as if she was about to say something, but no words came.
He smiled again, this time a little warmer, and took a step closer, his presence enveloping her. It was gentle, almost like a caress, but it carried the weight of something deeper, something unspoken. His hand reached out, briefly brushing against her arm in a quiet gesture, sending a spark of electricity through her.
“Goodnight, Arwen,” he said, his voice hushed now, but no less powerful. “Rest well.”
She nodded, feeling the warmth of his touch linger even after he pulled away. His eyes held hers for a moment longer, and then, with a final, almost imperceptible nod, he stepped back toward the door.
"Goodnight, Diarmid," she whispered, unable to keep the softness from her voice.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Arwen stood there for a long while, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. The room felt emptier now, quieter, without him in it. But at the same time, she felt a strange peace settle over her. The warmth of his presence still clung to her skin, and the sound of his voice echoed in her mind.
As she finally turned to walk toward her room, she glanced one last time at the door, half-expecting him to appear there again, to say something more. But it remained silent. The weight of the night settled on her, and though the questions still lingered, for now, she allowed herself to let the quiet moments of the evening wrap around her like a soft blanket.
Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow would bring more answers.
But for tonight... tonight she would hold on to the warmth that Diarmid had left behind, and the lingering sense that no matter how uncertain everything seemed, she was not alone.
The sound of Diarmid’s SUV roar echoing down the pavement was the last thing Arwen heard before the door clicked shut behind him. A heavy silence fell over the apartment, the kind that felt suffocating after the weight of his presence. She remained where she stood in the living room for a moment, her body frozen as if she were still absorbing the lingering energy of his warmth, his touch.
Sighing softly, she walked over to the window, pulling the curtains aside just enough to peer outside. The city lights flickered beneath the soft blanket of night, casting long shadows on the empty streets below. The cool air drifted in through the crack she’d left in the window, but it did little to cool the heat that lingered in her chest.
Her thoughts were a tangled mess, as if her heart and mind had collided and now lay in disarray. She hadn’t been prepared for how much Diarmid’s presence affected her—how much he affected her. Everything about him was intense, from the way he looked at her to the way he spoke to her. She didn’t know if she was ready to confront the depth of what was happening between them.
Why is it so hard to let go of him? she thought, her hand resting against the cool glass of the window. The image of his face, his serious gaze, and the way his lips curved into a smile when he spoke to her seemed to haunt her, even in his absence.
She hadn’t even realized her fingers had started to tremble until a soft sigh escaped her lips. The feeling of his hands brushing against hers, the soft tone of his voice calling her name—it was all still so vivid in her mind.
I don’t know what this is... What I’m feeling, she admitted silently to herself. There was a bond between them that she couldn’t ignore. But was it real? Was it safe to acknowledge it, especially with everything else in her life so complicated?
A distant sound of vehicles passing by echoed outside, a reminder that the world outside continued, indifferent to the whirlpool of emotions she was trapped in. She couldn’t stay here forever, lost in her thoughts and fears. Arwen pulled herself away from the window, her heart pounding a little faster.
But as she turned toward the living room, something caught her eye—movement in the reflection of the window.
She froze.
There, in the glass, just beyond the shadows of the house's edge, stood a figure. At first, she thought it was a trick of the light, the reflection of a passerby. But as her eyes focused, her breath caught in her throat.
It was him.
The dark silhouette of a figure was standing across the street, barely illuminated by the streetlights. He was tall, cloaked in shadows, and there was an air of something ancient about him—like he belonged to another time, another place. The same figure she had seen before. The one that haunted her rooftop, the one that had whispered her name.
Arwen’s heart raced, her pulse quickening as she stared at the figure in disbelief. Her fingers pressed against the windowpane as if she could somehow reach through the glass, pull him closer, or even understand what he wanted. But the figure didn’t move, didn’t speak. He just stood there, watching her from the distance.
Her mind was a mess of questions.
Who are you?
What do you want with me?
Her breath came out in short gasps, her chest tightening as she tried to make sense of the impossible. She turned quickly, eyes darting around the empty apartment as if searching for some sign of who—or what—this shadowy figure could be.
When she looked back at the window, the figure was gone.
Her heart dropped into her stomach. She rushed to the window, pulling the curtain back further, looking desperately into the night. There was no sign of him. The street was empty. Silent.
Was it real? she wondered, the question echoing in her mind. She had seen him so clearly, as if he were standing right there, just out of reach. But now, as the city below carried on, it felt like a cruel trick of her imagination.
Arwen leaned against the window, her forehead pressed against the cool glass. The unease she had felt earlier in the day returned with full force, now mixed with confusion and fear.
She didn’t know what to believe anymore. All she knew was that the world around her was shifting, and she was caught right in the middle of it. And for the first time in a long while, she didn’t know how to protect herself from whatever was waiting for her in the darkness.