Tuesday Morning, 8:00 AM.
The storm had washed the city clean, and soft sunlight filtered through the gaps in the heavy blackout curtains.
Elian Sterling woke up slowly.
He felt warm. Extremely warm. And safe.
He tried to stretch, but he couldn't move.
He blinked his eyes open and froze.
He was trapped.
Kaelen Blackwood was sleeping behind him, his massive arm wrapped tightly around Elian's waist, pulling Elian's back flush against his chest. Kaelen's face was buried in the crook of Elian's neck, his breathing slow and deep.
Kieran Blackwood was sleeping facing him, one hand resting protectively over Elian's hand on the pillow.
Elian's heart started hammering against his ribs.
Oh my god. Oh my god.
I slept with the Villains. I am the little spoon.
He felt Kaelen shift slightly, his grip tightening in his sleep as if checking that Elian was still there.
Elian's face burned bright red.
"This is too intimate," Elian whispered to himself. "I need to go. Before they wake up and realize I'm... drooling on their silk pillows."
Elian moved with the stealth of a ninja.
He carefully lifted Kieran's hand off his own. Kieran murmured something but didn't wake up.
Then, the hard part: Kaelen.
Elian held his breath and slowly, inch by inch, slid out from under Kaelen's heavy arm.
Kaelen frowned in his sleep, reaching out for the warmth that was leaving, but Elian quickly shoved a pillow into Kaelen's arms.
Kaelen hugged the pillow, sighing contentedly.
"Success," Elian gasped, sliding off the bed.
He grabbed his shoes. He looked at himself in the mirror—messy hair, swollen lips, wearing Kieran's oversized grey T-shirt.
"I look like a mess," he groaned.
The Guilt & The Decision
Elian tiptoed to the Penthouse door.
He reached for the handle.
Escape. Freedom. Safety.
But then... he stopped.
His hand hovered over the handle.
Flashbacks of last night hit him.
Kaelen holding him through the storm: "I've got you. I'm louder than the thunder."
Kieran wiping his feverish forehead with cool towels: "It's okay. I'm here."
Elian bit his lip.
"They saved me," Elian whispered. "They stayed awake all night for me. If I just leave like a thief... that's rude. That's ungrateful."
He turned around.
He looked at the kitchen.
"One breakfast," Elian decided. "I'll make them one breakfast. As a Thank You. And then I'll run."
The Quiet Chef
Elian crept into the massive, high-tech kitchen.
He moved silently, trying not to clatter any pans.
He opened the fridge.
Eggs. Milk. Bread. Bacon. Fresh berries.
"Okay," Elian rolled up the sleeves of the oversized grey shirt. "Let's do this."
He worked his magic.
Fluffy Scrambled Eggs: Creamy, slow-cooked with butter.
Crispy Bacon: Perfectly fried.
Toast: Golden brown.
Coffee: Freshly brewed, dark and strong (just how Kieran liked it).
The smell of coffee and bacon began to fill the Penthouse, replacing the scent of rain.
He set the table on the kitchen island. Two plates. Two mugs.
He placed the food neatly. It looked like a hotel breakfast.
"Perfect," Elian smiled, wiping his hands.
Then, he found a notepad and a pen next to the fridge.
He hesitated. What should he write?
Sorry for screaming? No.
Thanks for not killing me? Too dark.
He wrote a simple note. He tore the page off and placed it under the salt shaker so it wouldn't fly away.
He looked at the bedroom door one last time.
"Bye, wolves," Elian whispered.
Then he ran to the private elevator, typed his code, and disappeared down to the 40th Floor.
The Discovery (Twins' POV)
8:45 AM.
Kaelen woke up first.
He reached out for the warm body he had been holding all night.
His hand hit a pillow.
"Elian?" Kaelen's eyes snapped open.
The bed was empty.
"Kieran," Kaelen kicked his brother's leg. "He's gone."
Kieran woke up instantly. He sat up, scanning the room.
"He ran," Kieran rubbed his face, disappointed. "I told you we should have locked the door."
"I'm going to drag him back," Kaelen growled, throwing the covers off. He was ready to storm downstairs.
But then... Kieran sniffed the air.
"Wait."
Kieran stood up. "Do you smell that?"
Kaelen paused.
Coffee. Bacon. Toast.
They looked at each other. They walked out of the bedroom, following the scent.
They reached the kitchen.
And they froze.
There, on the island, was a perfect breakfast spread. Steaming coffee. Fresh eggs.
And Empty. Elian wasn't there.
Kaelen walked over to the island. He saw the piece of paper under the salt shaker.
He picked it up. Kieran read it over his shoulder.
The Note:
"Thank you for last night. For the towels. And for being louder than the storm.
I made breakfast. Please eat it before it gets cold.
P.S. I borrowed the T-shirt. I'll wash it and return it."
- Elian
Silence filled the kitchen.
Kaelen stared at the note. His thumb traced the handwriting.
"He cooked for us," Kaelen whispered, his voice dangerously soft. "He could have run away. But he stayed to cook."
Kieran picked up a piece of bacon and ate it. He closed his eyes.
"It's delicious," Kieran murmured. "He takes care of us."
Kaelen folded the note carefully and put it in his pocket like a precious diamond.
"That's it," Kaelen said, his eyes burning with intense determination. "I don't care about the anything anymore. I don't care about the 'Cure'."
He looked at Kieran.
"He cooked for us, Kieran. He belongs here. In this kitchen. In our bed."
Kieran poured the coffee, a dark smirk playing on his lips.
"Yes. We let him run today. Let him think he is safe."
"But soon," Kaelen finished, looking at the empty spot where Elian had stood, "We are bringing him home for good."