Thony looks around at the empty house she had called home for a while now. The usually chaotic atmosphere with so many people in one place, she found offered her a peace that had been stripped from her as quickly as she held it in her grasp. The love that once filled this space had withered away into solitary silence, and it was slowly eating away at her.
The guilt of what had had happened to Maya was bit by bit tightening its chokehold on her, constantly making her think about what they could've done to get out of the situation. Thoughts of how she could've found a way out of this entire situation, something that had never left her mind since she'd first witnessed the murder that landed her here.
She ambles her way through the halls, finding herself in Luca's makeshift room, her fingers dancing over his possessions he'd left behind in a rush to offer him a safe haven far away from her. Crawling into his bed, she grips his pillow, as if she's hugging him. Curling up into the fetal position, she folds into herself, shrinking the space she's taking up, hoping to disappear altogether.
Closing her eyes tightly, she tries to get the image of what she'd suggested to Arman out of her mind. His face saying it all in the moment. She'd asked so much of him, even to kill for her, and he'd done it, no questions asked, time and time again he'd shown her the other night that he would do anything for her, choose her over anyone. But this request, for him to reconcile with his wife, that had taken him aback, given him pause, attempting to search her eyes for whether she truly meant it.
She'd hardened her stare, not wanting him to see that this was just another sacrifice that was being asked of her. Looking away, convinced if he saw how much the suggestion was killing her, that he'd never go through with it. But she could see the pain in his stare, forced to betray a line he'd drawn in the sand for himself, for the sake of their families, and it had killed her to see the turmoil rustling within him, not wanting to admit to herself what it could mean that the thought of being with his wife felt like more of a betrayal than anything he'd done.
She's not sure when she'd passed out, a fitful sleep, still clutching her son's pillow, when she hears a knock at her door.
Reluctantly getting up, she makes her way towards the door, seeing that the tall shadowy figure at her door is Arman.
Sighing, she cracks the door open, not allowing him in, instead leaning on the frame. His eyes silently plead with her, his brow furrowed, bathed in worry, as he takes in her stance, arms crossed, closing herself off to the feelings that swell inside of her, reminded that no matter how many times he chose her in the past, he was not her's to claim.
"Did you get the key card?" She asks, when he doesn't make a move to hand it over.
He groans, his hand running over his face in frustration.
"No," he grunts, and she pulls the door open, allowing him in, not wanting to have this conversation in the middle of the night for anyone to hear.
"What do you mean, no? We need that card to protect—"
"I couldn't do it, okay," he interrupts her, and she's stunned into silence. Her arms come to cross in front of her again, protecting herself from where this is going, not needing the details of how the reconciliation went from one of convenience to genuine in the span of one night. The fact that Arman was unable to steal the card, not wanting to betray his wife, leaving a knot in her chest at what felt like betrayal.
Shaking her head, she steps back from him. Feeling more alone than she had in an empty house, the one person who had been there for her, who had understood the precarious situation, who'd wrapped her in his arms just earlier that day, his warmth enveloping her in his embrace, fingers running through her hair, promises of what could be if they ever had a moment to take a breath. Gone.
"Okay, that's…fine, we'll just have to come up with another way to get it," she mutters, nearly pacing at this point, her hand running over her ponytail, before finding its way to resting on her lips. She only stops when she glances up and sees Arman just staring at her with the same pleading look on his face as when he'd shown up.
"Thony, the reason I couldn't—"
She holds up her hand to him.
"I don't need the details," she warns. She shouldn't be as upset as she's unwilling to acknowledge over a man sleeping with his wife, but she can acknowledge that it's far more complicated than that. Thony and Arman had been blurring the lines of their vows since the moment that they met, the moment they chose to trust each other, to entangle their lives so inextricably that she wasn't even sure how to separate herself from him at this point without losing a part of herself. Sometimes she can still feel the taste of his lips on her's, her legs wrapped around him or the soft way he'd held her face, silent promises of what could've been washed away every single time by something more urgent. She'd be lying if she said she didn't wish another slip would happen every time they were together. But she'd ruined it. Because when it came to them, danger comes fast, but change comes slow.
"You do," he argues, and she bristles at the suggestion, turning away from him. Until she feels his hand, gently grabbing her wrist, not demanding anything, but rather asking that she grant him this, so she turns back. "I couldn't go through with it," he repeats.
His eyes are glistening with emotion, as if bursting to let it all out, but having become accustomed to blinking them back in denial. His words washing over her until she's comprehending what he'd said, not just the key card that hadn't worked out, but the entire reconciliation itself. She can feel the release of the tension she'd been carrying all night, only to recoil into one of pure want.
His hand doesn't drop from her arm even when she faces him, his fingers instead moving in slow circles, tracing the warmth of her pulse point, and she knows he can likely feel the affect he's having on her.
"She asked me if I love you," he barely whispers, and she sucks in a breath, her eyes going wide with shock.
He steps closer to her, his chest now pressing against her, and his hands moving to cradle her face so delicately, she unconsciously leans into his touch.
"What…what did you say to her?" She asks, stumbling on her words, afraid of the answer, knowing that whatever was said is going to somehow irrevocably change things. His actions having long since led her to believe, but never admit, that perhaps that's where they had landed, but to speak the words into existence, there would be no turning back.
He brings his forehead down, curling into her, and she catches her breath, refusing to let her heart leap to conclusions when she'd spent the night trying to compartmentalize those feelings into a neat box she could bury.
"Thony," he breathes, and she shudders, her hands coming to grip his shirt in her fists, begging for a soft landing for a fall she'd started the moment he'd spared her.
She peers at him through her dark lashes, waiting for his answer.
"I love you."
His words shatter her resolve, and her lips crash into his, ignoring all reason, and instead allowing her feelings to take hold. He doesn't hesitate to reciprocate, his hands immediately melding her body to his own. Her arms wrap around his neck, and his hoisting her up around his waist a satisfying groan escaping him as she anchors herself to him, the kiss urgent, wanting. The other times before coming from a place of hurt and comfort, but this one felt different, free to hold nothing back.
He has her up against the entrance wall before long, his fingers tickling her skin as they settle on her hips, and her head tilts back, as his mouth finds another pulse point, settling on her lifeline, and his name falls from her lips.
He pulls back, staring at her, and it takes her a moment to recover, her eyes fluttering open to find him grinning before turning to one of worry, a heat running through her that refuses to go out.
"Are you sure, Thony?" His eyes never leaving her's, concern for her wellbeing always, somehow, his main priority, and she finds herself sighing at the thought of having someone put her first, above all else.
She climbs down from him, her hand sliding across his chest, and his brow furrows, about to take a step back, not wanting to guilt her into anything, and she finds her adoration growing.
Stepping around him, she holds out her hand.
A slow smile comes to his face, as he grabs her hand without hesitation, joining them in a way they hadn't before.
"I love you, too," she utters, that same smile mirrored on her face, pulling him behind her to her bed, offering up a future that she can't guarantee, but one that he happily accepts, and that they'll walk together.