Chapter 55 – His Hands on Me
Sam's POV
I didn’t remember how I got back to our dorm.
The rain blurred everything—the pounding of my heart, the sting on my arm where Darren’s nails had dug in, the phantom echo of Declan’s voice still twisting through my head. All I knew was that when the door shut behind me, Elias was there.
“Sam.” His voice cut through the storm still ringing in my ears. Sharp, urgent. “You’re hurt.”
I blinked down at my arm. Blood had started to snake down, mixing with rainwater. The cut looked worse than it felt, and yet… I couldn’t seem to stop staring at it.
Elias was already moving, grabbing the first-aid kit from the shelf above his desk. His jaw was tight, his hair damp, his shirt clinging to his shoulders. He looked like he’d run straight into the storm after me and barely held himself back from shaking me.
“Sit,” he ordered, pointing to the edge of his bed.
I hesitated. My legs felt like they might give out anyway, so I sank down. The mattress dipped under me, and before I could speak, Elias was kneeling in front of me, his hands steady but his eyes stormier than the sky outside.
“This is nothing,” I muttered, trying for casual. “It’s just a scratch—”
“Don’t,” he snapped, ripping open a packet of antiseptic wipes. “Don’t pretend this doesn’t matter. Look at you.”
My chest tightened. “I can handle it.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” His voice softened, but the edge didn’t disappear. He reached for my arm, and when his fingers brushed my skin, I flinched—more from the jolt it sent through me than the pain.
His eyes flicked up immediately. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” My voice came out too fast, too thin. “You’re fine. It’s fine.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he turned back to my arm, gently lifting it. His grip was firm but careful, like I was something fragile. The cool sting of antiseptic spread across the cut, and I hissed softly.
“Sorry,” he murmured, his thumb brushing just below the wound as if to steady me. “Almost done.”
I tried not to focus on how close he was, how his hair dripped faintly against his temple, how his breath warmed the air between us. But the harder I tried, the more I noticed every detail. The way his sleeves were rolled to his elbows, exposing the strength in his forearms. The way his brows knit together in quiet concentration.
“You shouldn’t have gone to him,” Elias said suddenly, his voice low but fierce.
My heart lurched. “I didn’t have a choice. He—”
“You always have a choice.” He pressed the gauze down firmly, and I sucked in a breath. His gaze snapped to mine. “You knew it was dangerous. And you went anyway.”
“You don’t get it,” I said, words tumbling before I could stop them. “If I don’t… if I don’t keep Declan close, he’ll—” I stopped myself just in time, biting my lip hard.
Elias studied me, his hands stilling on my arm. “He’ll what?”
I swallowed. “He’ll make things worse.”
His eyes narrowed like he wanted to push further, but instead he exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “You’re reckless, Sam.”
“Maybe. But I survived, didn’t I?”
“Barely.” His jaw tightened. He leaned closer without realizing it, his hand tightening gently around my wrist as if to anchor me. “And what if I wasn’t here? What if you came back like this, bleeding, and no one was around?”
“Then I’d deal with it myself,” I said quietly.
“That’s not good enough.”
His voice cracked on the last word. I blinked at him, startled by the rawness in it. For once, the walls he kept so high weren’t completely in place.
“I don’t need you to fix me,” I whispered, but the words shook.
“Too bad,” Elias said, his mouth curving in a humorless half-smile. “I’m going to anyway.”
My chest squeezed. I looked down, but that only drew my attention back to his hands. His fingers lingered, brushing over my skin as he adjusted the bandage, slower than necessary.
“Elias…”
“What?” His voice was low now, dangerous in a different way.
“You’re… close.”
His lips twitched. “You just noticed?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I tried to pull back. But his hand stayed firm around mine, keeping me steady.
“You push me away,” he murmured, “but every time, I’m the one holding you together when you break.”
“I don’t—” My protest faltered. Because he wasn’t wrong. And that scared me more than Declan ever could.
Silence stretched, filled only by the drum of rain against the window.
Elias finally sat back a little, but his hand stayed on my arm. “There. All bandaged.”
“Thanks,” I said, my voice small.
He studied me like he didn’t believe I meant it. Then, softer: “You’ve got to stop lying to me.”
My throat went dry. “I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.” His hand shifted, sliding down from my wrist to my palm, his touch deliberate, lingering. “And one day soon, you’re not going to be able to anymore.”
My pulse thundered. “Why does it matter so much to you?”
His eyes darkened. “Because I don’t want to watch you destroy yourself.”
The words hit harder than I expected. I opened my mouth, searching for something—anything—but he leaned in before I could answer. His face was close, closer than it had ever been, the storm outside forgotten. His breath brushed my lips.
“Elias,” I whispered.
His hand squeezed mine once, firmly. “Let me in, Sam. Just once. Tell me the truth.”
I froze, my heart screaming yes, my head screaming no. The truth wasn’t safe—not for me, not for him.
So I pulled back, shaking my head. “I… I can’t.”
The hurt in his eyes flickered fast, but it was there. He leaned back finally, the space between us rushing cold and empty.
“Fine,” he said, his voice sharp again. “Keep your secrets.”
Before I could answer, a loud knock pounded on our dorm door. Both our heads snapped toward it.
The knock came again, harder.
And a voice—low, mocking—cut through the wood.
“Sam. I know you’re in there.”
My blood froze.
Declan.