Morning came too quietly. Clair woke first.
The light slipping through her curtains was soft, pale, almost hesitant, like it didn't want to interrupt whatever had happened the night before. For a few seconds, she stayed still, eyes half-open, mind suspended somewhere between sleep and memory.
Then she felt it…..Warmth…..Weight….Ethan.
Her breath hitched just slightly before she forced herself to relax again. He was behind her, one arm loosely draped over her waist, his breathing slow and even against the back of her neck.
It was… unfamiliar.
Not the physical closeness. That part wasn't new. But this?
This quiet...This stillness…..this lack of urgency to leave. That was new.
And it unsettled her more than she expected.
Ethan woke a few minutes later. Not abruptly. Not sharply. Just… gradually.
His awareness came in layers….the softness of the bed, the faint scent of her shampoo, the warmth beneath his hand. And then it hit him.
Clair.
His eyes opened slowly, gaze settling on the curve of her shoulder, the way her hair spilled across the pillow.
For a moment, he didn't move. Didn't think.
Didn't analyze. Just… existed in it.
And that alone was enough to make something tighten in his chest. Because Ethan Ashford didn't do this. He didn't wake up next to people.
He didn't stay.
He didn't linger.
But here he was….. still here.
Clair shifted slightly, turning just enough to glance back at him.
"You're still here," she said, voice soft but edged with something unreadable.
Not surprise, not exactly. More like… an observation.
Ethan's gaze met hers, steady, unreadable in return.
"Looks like it."
A beat passed and neither of them moved.
Neither of them filled the silence. And yet, it wasn't awkward. It was… heavy.
Like both of them were aware that something had shifted, even if neither was willing to say it out loud.
Clair broke the moment first.
"I have work," she said, pulling away slightly, sitting up and reaching for her shirt.
Just like that, back to normal. Or at least… pretending.
Ethan watched her, eyes narrowing just a fraction.
There it was…..Distance…..Control.
She was doing exactly what he would've done. And for some reason, that didn't sit right with him.
"Of course you do," he said, sitting up, tone calm but edged.
Clair glanced at him briefly, unimpressed.
"Don't start," she muttered, pulling her hair into a loose tie.
"You don't get to disappear, ignore me, show up out of nowhere, and then act like this is….." she gestured vaguely between them
"...something."
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"I'm not acting like anything."
"Exactly," she shot back.
Silence.
Sharp this time.
He got up, grabbing his shirt from the floor, putting it on with controlled movements.
Clair watched him for a second, then looked away, focusing on her bag, her sketchbook, anything that grounded her.
This was safer. Routine was safer.
"I'll see you around," Ethan said finally
Casual. Too casual.
Clair didn't look at him.
"Maybe."
That was it. No goodbye. No lingering touch.
Nothing.
The door closed behind him with a quiet click.
And just like that… he was gone. Again.
The café was busier than usual that morning.
Clair threw herself into work almost immediately…..laptop open, tablet out, sketchbook flipped to a new page. Her pencil moved faster than usual, sharper strokes, more pressure.
Control. She needed control. But her mind kept drifting…..to the way he looked in her bed…. the way he didn't leave immediately….the way he said nothing… and everything at the same time.
It annoyed her. More than that….it unsettled her.
Ethan, on the other hand, was not having a peaceful morning.
He sat in his car across the street from the café, coffee untouched in the cup holder, phone face down beside him.
He told himself he wasn't waiting.
He told himself he wasn't watching.
He told himself a lot of things.
None of them were convincing.
His eyes flicked up just in time to see her through the window…..head bent over her tablet, completely absorbed, like the night before hadn't happened at all.
Like he hadn't happened.
Something in his chest twisted….
annoyance...frustration.
Something dangerously close to… wanting more. And that? That was a problem.
His phone buzzed.
Work.A new case. Perfect.
A distraction. Exactly what he needed.
Ethan picked it up, reading through the details, forcing his focus back into familiar territory...facts, patterns, control.
This was his world. This made sense. Not her.
Not whatever this… thing was between them.
Back inside, Clair paused mid-sketch.
For no reason.
Or at least, no reason she wanted to admit.
Her eyes flicked to the window.
Empty. Of course.
She shook her head slightly, exhaling, forcing her attention back to her work.
Lines. Shadows. Color.
Things she could control. Unlike him.
But control, she was starting to realize….was slipping.
For both of them.