Page 6 — The Blood in the Rain
The storm had returned.
Thunder rolled across the city like a warning, low and relentless, shaking the tall windows of Adrian's penthouse. The night outside was wild — rain slashing through the sky, lightning flashing white against the skyline. Inside, silence clung to every surface, thick and uneasy.
Eli sat by the window, watching the rain blur the world beyond the glass. He hadn't seen Adrian since morning. The house felt different without him — colder, emptier. The ticking of the clock seemed louder than usual, each second stretching long enough to carry a heartbeat of dread.
He'd found a gun in the drawer that afternoon. Sleek, black, polished — like everything else in Adrian's life. The weight of it had frightened him. He hadn't touched it again. But it reminded him of one thing: whatever Adrian was hiding wasn't just dangerous. It was deadly.
The elevator chimed.
Eli stood.
Adrian stepped out — drenched, his white shirt clinging to him, rain dripping from his hair. His coat was missing, his knuckles bruised. For the first time since Eli had met him, he didn't look composed. He looked… human.
"Adrian," Eli breathed, moving closer. "What happened?"
Adrian said nothing at first. He dropped his keys onto the table, unbuttoned his cuffs with trembling fingers, and exhaled sharply. His voice, when it came, was low. "You weren't supposed to see any of this."
Eli frowned. "See what? The blood on your sleeve, or the fact that you can't even look me in the eye right now?"
Adrian turned to him then, and the look in his eyes made Eli's heart stutter. It wasn't anger. It was fear — for him.
"They found us," Adrian said. "The people I've been keeping you from. Marcus has men in the city. They'll come for you first."
"Then why aren't we leaving?" Eli's voice cracked. "Why are we still here?"
"Because running won't save you anymore," Adrian said quietly. "I've already tried that once."
Lightning flared. For a moment, his face was carved in silver light — sharp jaw, haunted eyes, a man who'd carried too many sins for one lifetime.
Eli's throat tightened. "You're bleeding."
Adrian glanced at his arm. A shallow cut marked his forearm, blood still fresh. Eli stepped closer, instinct guiding him. "Sit," he said softly. "Let me help."
Adrian didn't argue. He sat at the edge of the couch, silent as Eli disappeared into the bathroom for the first aid kit. When he returned, the storm had grown louder.
"Hold still," Eli murmured, pressing a cloth against the wound. His hands trembled. "You said you didn't want me in your world, but it's already too late, isn't it?"
Adrian's eyes lifted to his. "You should hate me for that."
"I don't." Eli met his gaze, voice steady. "I just want to understand."
For a moment, the air between them was thick — heavy with everything neither of them could say. Adrian's chest rose and fell slowly. His hand brushed Eli's wrist, stopping the trembling.
"Eli," he said quietly, "there are things about me you don't want to know."
"Then tell me anyway," Eli whispered. "I'd rather know the monster I'm standing beside than pretend he's not real."
Adrian flinched — a barely visible crack in his mask. "I'm not the monster. I'm the weapon they built."
He stood suddenly, pacing to the window. Rain streaked the glass, lightning flashing behind him. "The Syndicate trained me. Years ago. I was their negotiator — the man who ended wars before they began. But Marcus… he used me for something else. Assassinations. Cover-ups. And when I tried to leave, they sent people after me. I thought I'd escaped."
Eli stared at him, breath shallow. "And me?"
Adrian turned, eyes hollow. "You were never supposed to exist in my story."
Silence stretched — long, sharp, almost cruel. Eli's fingers tightened around the bandage. "So what am I, then? A mistake?"
Adrian's voice dropped to a whisper. "A reminder."
Eli blinked. "Of what?"
"Of the man I used to be. The one who still wanted to save something." Adrian's voice trembled, just barely. "The night I found you, I wasn't looking to help anyone. I was hunting Marcus's courier. I followed the wrong trail — and found you instead, bleeding on that street corner. I should've walked away."
"But you didn't," Eli said.
"No," Adrian said. "I couldn't."
Eli moved closer. "Why?"
The question hung in the air. Adrian didn't answer — not with words. His hand lifted, almost hesitantly, brushing a strand of wet hair from Eli's face. "Because you looked at me like I wasn't damned."
The thunder cracked outside. The air smelled of rain and metal and something fragile breaking open between them.
Eli's voice was a whisper. "You're not damned, Adrian."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "You don't know what I've done."
"Then let me be the one who stays even after I do."
Something inside Adrian broke then — quietly, invisibly, like glass under pressure. His breath hitched; his eyes softened. For the first time, he looked like a man who didn't know how to fight what he felt.
He took a step forward. Eli didn't move.
When Adrian spoke, his voice was rough, raw. "You don't understand what that promise costs."
"Then teach me," Eli whispered.
The storm roared outside, shaking the windows. Adrian's hand fell to Eli's shoulder — not to hold him back, but to keep himself steady. Every heartbeat was a confession, every breath a surrender.
"I don't know how to love without breaking things," Adrian said.
Eli met his gaze, unflinching. "Then break me gently."
The words hung there, trembling like the air before lightning strikes. Adrian closed his eyes. For one fragile moment, the storm outside and the storm inside him became the same thing.
He leaned forward — not a kiss, not yet, just a breath's distance between them. "If I let this happen," Adrian murmured, "there's no going back."
Eli's reply was quiet, certain. "I stopped looking back the night I met you."
And then the distance broke.
It wasn't passion — it was need, unspoken and trembling. Adrian's hand cupped the side of Eli's face, his forehead pressing lightly against his. The world outside disappeared. Only the rain remained, pounding against glass, steady and alive.
When Adrian finally pulled away, his voice was rough. "They'll come tonight."
Eli's eyes widened. "Who—"
"Marcus's men." Adrian grabbed his gun from the table. "You stay here, no matter what you hear. Understand?"
Eli reached for him, desperate. "I can't just—"
"You can." Adrian's tone softened. "Because I need you to live, Eli."
The words landed like a promise. And then he was gone — disappearing into the storm.
Eli stood frozen by the window, watching the blur of motion below as black cars slid through the rain-soaked streets. A gunshot cracked somewhere in the distance. Another.
Lightning flashed. For a heartbeat, Eli saw Adrian outside — coat whipping in the wind, a shadow against the storm, moving with deadly precision. But he was outnumbered.
Eli's pulse roared in his ears. He grabbed the small knife from the counter — the only thing within reach — and ran.
The elevator doors opened into chaos. Shouts. The echo of boots. Thunder swallowing gunfire. And through it all, Adrian's voice — sharp, commanding.
"Eli, stay back!"
But Eli didn't. He ran toward the sound.
He saw Marcus then — a man in a dark suit, calm amidst the violence. His smile was cold. "The boy," he said, nodding toward Eli. "So this is what you've been hiding, Adrian."
Adrian raised his weapon. "You won't touch him."
Marcus smirked. "You're predictable. Still trying to protect what you can't keep."
A shot rang out. Eli screamed.
When the smoke cleared, Marcus was gone — and Adrian was on his knees, blood staining the rain around him.
Eli dropped beside him. "No, no, no—"
Adrian's hand found his, weak but firm. "I told you… not to follow."
"I don't listen well," Eli whispered, tears mixing with the rain.
Adrian's lips curved into a faint, broken smile. "I noticed."
The sirens wailed in the distance. The storm began to ease.
Eli pressed his forehead to Adrian's. "You're not dying here."
Adrian's eyes fluttered shut. "Not if you keep talking like that."
He laughed once — breathless, trembling — and then went still in Eli's arms, the rain washing the blood from h
is hands.
Outside, the city lights flickered through the downpour. Inside the storm, love and loss met quietly, bound by everything they couldn't say.