Chapter 16 Running from Him
Aiyana's P.O.V
I tried to build a wall between us, brick by brick, distance by distance.
I spoke less.
When he entered the room I found something to fix my eyes on that wasn’t him. He’d reach for my wrist and I would shift slightly, not enough to be disrespectful, just enough to remind myself of the leash I refused to allow my heart to wear.
Because caring for a man like Jerome Black was like swallowing a blade and hoping it missed the organs, and I was already bleeding more than I wanted to admit.
So when I caught him that night, when I walked into my room and found him replacing the flowers in the vase himself, I froze.
Jerome Black travelled with shadows, power, silence. Yet here he stood, with sleeves rolled, hands steady, arranging flowers like I mattered.
Like I was worth tending to.
I hated it.
Hated how much he tested my limits, how much he confused me, but I just stood there not knowing what to say or how to even say it when I figured it out.
“You’re awake.” He said with the ghost of a smile playing in his lips. One that had me taken aback.
He's changed? I couldn't quite place my finger on it but he seemed different. Not as dark
“Yes.” I replied, voice quieter than intended. “You’re… changing my flowers?” I asked even though it was the most obvious thing for a person with eyes.
I swallowed. “Why are you doing it yourself?”
His jaw shifted, a muscle ticking in irritation, or maybe restraint.
“Because I wanted to.” He responded plainly, going back to tending to the flowers like they were his morning duties.
But wanted wasn’t an answer, not to the questions burning holes into my ribs.
Why did he come for me when everyone left?
Why did he feed me what he ate?
Why did he stand between me and the world like I was something he refused to lose?
“Jerome.” I breathed, forcing steadiness into words my heart trembled to speak. “Why are you treating me like this?” I ask for the upteenth time
He turned to me, then back to the flowers as if fleeing my eyes, but he didn’t flee.
“You’re mine.” He said, the phrase I’d heard too many times and I immediately knew that I was not taking that for an answer anymore.
“No…No, Jerome. I’m tired of that answer.” I said with all the courage I had managed to build up in the last few seconds.
His chest rose slowly too slowly, like he was holding air hostage in his lungs. I stepped toward him despite every rational instinct screaming to keep distance.
“You said my name.” He mutters as he turned to face me. His face was currently unreadable but had more expressions than I had ever seen on him.
“I need a real answer.” I continued, trying to not dwell on the fact that he looked so handsome right now.
‘you’re a fool Aiyana’ I said to myself, shocked at my thoughts
Not possession.
Not claim.
Not dominance.
“A real one, Jerome.” I said again and he turned away again as if he couldn't bare to look at me this instant.
For a good minute, his back was still to me, but I stood there not giving up getting my answers today.
The silence stretched so long I wondered if he’d pretend he didn’t hear, but then…
He turned.
And the expression he wore was not one I was prepared for.
Not dominance.
Not indifference.
Pain.
“Don’t ask for what you’re not ready to hear, Aiyana.” He said like I punched him in the gut and he was trying to not cry out in pain.
I didn’t back away. I had been beaten by men who weren’t afraid to break me, I would not tremble before the one who refused to.
“Then say it.”
His eyes hardened, not in anger but in surrender. Something inside him cracked, unraveled, bled into the space between us until I swore I could feel his pulse beneath my skin.
“Aiyana…” He started, and my heart almost melted as my name in his mouth felt like a confession itself.
“I don’t want you as mine.” He said, voice rough and dark.
“I need you.”
My heartbeat stopped for a second and restarted in a sprint.
He what?!
He stepped closer. Careful and slow, like approaching something fragile he dared not scare away.
“I don’t sleep unless I know you’re safe.”
Another step.
“When the house was attacked, and I realized you were still inside, I felt fear. Real fear. For the first time since I was a boy.”
His hand lifted, hovered inches from my cheek but didn’t touch.
“I didn’t know I was capable of that anymore.”
My breathing betrayed me before I could help it. One second it was too shallow, the next too quick.
I had wanted answers, but hearing them unravelled something inside me I didn’t even know was knotted.
He continued, eyes burning into mine with raw truth.
“I watch you eat because I want you strong.”
“I come back every day because the house feels wrong without you in it.”
“I changed your flowers because I remembered the way you smiled the first time they were placed here.”
My throat tightened painfully as my soul spun in shock. I knew that he showed some care towards me but feeling this much for me was far beyond my wildest dreams.
He inhaled, a ragged, barely controlled breath.
“You think I don’t know what I’m doing? I do.”
His voice dropped, dangerous not from threat but honesty.
“I want you, Aiyana. In ways I shouldn’t.”
Heat surged through me, fear and something dangerously close to desire tangled like wires sparking fire.
His eyes fell to my mouth, just for a second and I swear the world tilted.
He shut his eyes briefly, as if wrestling himself back from a confession too heavy.
“I want to kiss you.” He murmured, like a sin whispered like prayer.
“To touch you. To lay claim not just through words but through skin.”
My knees nearly buckled.
“But I won’t.” he added, voice suddenly strained. “Not unless you want me to. Because if you give me that permission…”
He leaned in, breath ghosting my cheek, voice a trembling storm.
“I won’t stop. I’m trying, Aiyana… I’m trying to hold onto whatever piece of a gentleman I have left. Don’t make me lose it.” He said lastly, shaking his head like a person fighting his inner demons for control.
The room spun.
Not from fear.
From the overwhelming realness of him.
Of this.
I could hardly breathe. My body felt too aware of his proximity, of his restraint, of the way his voice wrapped around my spine like heat.
I had asked for truth.
And he gave me a weapon that could cut us both open.
“I don’t know what to do with… all of this,
” I whispered.
His eyes softened, a softness only I seemed allowed to see.
“You don’t have to do anything,” he answered. “Just don’t run from me.”