Chapter 18 The Storm Between Us : Proximity

Chapter 18 The Storm Between Us : Proximity
Elena Thorne

The storm started as a distant rumble.

I barely noticed at first, too focused on outlining Kieran’s thesis structure. But then thunder cracked loud enough to rattle the windows, and I looked up to see rain lashing against the glass.

“When did that start?” Kieran asked, moving to the window.

“I don’t know.” I checked my phone and it was 8:47pm. We had been working for almost three hours and did not realize it. “We should probably wrap up anyway.”

As if in response, the lights flickered.

Once. A second time, then died completely, plunging us into darkness.

“Shit,” Kieran muttered.

Emergency lighting kicked in after a moment, casting everything in dim, eerie shadows. But it was clear the main power was out.

“The storm must have knocked out the grid,” I said, gathering my materials by the faint light. “We should go before—”

Thunder boomed again, so loud that I jumped. The emergency lights flickered ominously.

“Before that happens,” I finished.

We packed quickly, shoving books and papers into bags. I pulled out my phone for the flashlight, but the screen showed no signal. The storm must have taken out the cell towers too.

“Come on.” Kieran headed for the exit.

I followed, but when he tried the door, it wouldn’t budge.

“It’s locked,” he said, jiggling the handle. "And it seems like we are alone."

“What? It can’t be locked. We’re inside.”

“Well, it is.” He pulled harder, but the door didn’t move. “The electronic locks must have engaged when the power went out.”

I stared at him. “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

He didn’t. And suddenly the implications hit me. We were trapped in a library, during a storm. With no power and no way to call for help.

“There has to be another exit,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

We searched. The library had two entrances, the main one we had tried, and a back entrance used for deliveries. Both were locked tight, their electronic mechanisms dead without power.

“Okay.” I pressed my palms against my eyes, forcing myself to think. “Okay. Someone will notice the power’s out. They will come check the building.”

“In this storm?” Kieran looked doubtful. “Elena, it’s almost nine at night. Most of the staff have gone to their home.”

“So what, we just wait here in the dark?”

“Unless you have a better idea.”

I didn’t.

We returned to the main reading room, where at least the emergency lighting gave us some visibility. I sank into one of the leather chairs by the high window, watching rain stream down the glass.

Kieran paced for a while, checking his phone periodically for signal that never came. Then he tried the doors again.

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered.

“Could be worse.”

“How?”

“It could be completely dark. At least now, we have some light.”

I shot him a look. “I admire the optimism.”

“I’m just saying—”

The emergency lights flickered, then died and instantly, total darkness swallowed us.

“You were saying?” I asked into the black.

I heard Kieran moving, then the beam of his phone’s flashlight cut through the darkness. “Come on. There’s a storage room in the back. It’s smaller but there are emergency supplies.”

I turned on my own phone light and followed him through the stacks. The storage room was tiny—barely bigger than a closet—but Kieran was right about the supplies. Battery-powered lanterns sat on a shelf, along with blankets and bottled water.

He grabbed a lantern, switching it on, and in no time, warm light filled the small space.

“Better?” he asked.

“Marginally.”

The storage room had one chair and a small bench against the wall. I sank onto the bench, pulling my knees up. The space felt claustrophobic with both of us in it, but at least it was warmer than the main library.

Kieran leaned against the opposite wall, his phone in hand, staring at the “no signal” message.

Minutes ticked by as the storm raged outside and the thunder rolled continuously.

“I should have checked the weather,” I said, more to fill the silence than anything.

“Neither of us checked.”

“Mmm…” I shook my head

I pulled out my phone, scrolling to a saved video, some mindless comedy sketch Sierra had sent me last week. Anything to distract myself from the fact that I was trapped in a tiny room with Kieran Silvermane.

The video wasn’t even funny, but I watched it anyway. 

I was on the second watch when I noticed movement in my peripheral vision. Kieran had moved closer and was settling onto the bench beside me. 

His presence unsettled me because even as his skin was nowhere near mine, I felt the hair on my skin stand from being actively self-aware.

“What are you watching?” he asked. I did not want to answer him but I realized quickly that we were alone and there was no point beefing with my ‘neighbor’ in this sense.

“Nothing important.” I finally replied. “It’s just helping me to stay calm.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then: “Can I ask you something?”

“That depends on the question.”

“Why don’t you wear your hair down?”

I turned to look at him. “What?”

“Your hair.” Kieran gestured vaguely. “You always have it pulled back. In that picture on your phone, it was up too. I was just wondering why you never wear it loose.”

I frowned. “Because it’s my hair and I can do what I want with it.”

“I know that. I’m not saying you should change it. I’m just curious.”

“Curious about my hair.”

“Yeah.”

I stared at him, trying to figure out if this was some kind of game. But his expression was open and he seemed genuinely curious.

“It’s more professional pulled back,” I said finally. “People take you more seriously when you look put together.”

“Who told you that?”

“No one had to tell me. It’s something I learned and it’s true.” My lips spread out thin.

“Is it?” He shifted slightly, angling toward me. “Or is it something you tell yourself because you think you have to be perfect all the time?”

“I don’t—” I stopped. Then started again. “I’m not trying to be perfect. I’m trying to be taken seriously. 

Of course, that’s how I got you to actually listen and have a productive class.”

I noticed the movement of his mouth like he wanted to argue, but held back.

I turned my face back to my phone, hoping that I had put an end to that conversation but Kieran had other plans.

“But you don’t need to do that to be taken seriously. You are serious enough. You’re brilliant, Elena. You don’t need to hide behind professional clothes and pulled-back hair for people to see that.”

“Thank you for your advice, Sir.” I let out a sarcastic smile, “But I’m not hiding.”

“If you say so.”

“I just think,” Kieran continued after a beat, “that you looked happier in that picture. More yourself. And I wonder if maybe you’re so busy being who you think you should be that you forget who you actually are.”

My throat was tight, still I forced a chuckle. “Who I am? You don’t know anything about who I am.”

“Maybe not.” He reached up slowly, telegraphing the movement so I could stop him if I wanted.

I didn’t stop him.

His hand moved to the back of my head, fingers finding the elastic holding my hair in its neat bun. His touch was gentle as he worked it free, and I felt my hair fall around my shoulders.

His fingers lingered at the nape of my neck.

“Kieran—” My voice came out breathless.

“Your hair’s softer than I thought,” he muttered, almost to himself. His hand moved through the strands, the touch sending electricity down my spine. “And you smell like—”

He leaned closer, and I felt his breath against my neck.

“—like honey and cinnamon. There’s something else that I am struggling to name,” he leaned closer again to sniff me and I felt my heart do three times its cycle in one minute.

I should pull away and caution him to stop.

Instead, I sat frozen as he inhaled against my skin, his nose brushing the curve of my neck.

“Kieran, what are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I should stop but I don’t want to.”

His lips touched my neck, brushing on it in a way that made my breath catch.

Then he was kissing me there. Soft, reverent kisses along the column of my throat that made heat pool in my stomach.

My hands fisted in my lap. Every nerve ending was on fire. This was wrong and we should not be doing this.

Yet, his teeth grazed my skin gently, and a sound escaped me.

“Elena,” he breathed against my neck. His hand moved to my waist as he pulled me closer. “I don’t want to stop. Don’t tell me to stop.”

In all honesty, I did not want to tell him to stop.

My body was leaning into him instead of away. My head was tilting to give him better access and my hands reached up to grip his shoulders.

He kissed up my neck, along my jaw, his movements slow and intentional like he was memorizing every inch of my skin.

His face was so close to mine now. I could see the silver bleeding into his gray eyes, and could feel his chest rising and falling against mine.

Kieran's gaze dropped to my lips and the moment his lips opened and swallowed my upper lip, reality crashed back in.

“Kieran.” I pushed against his chest, not hard, but enough to create space. “What—what is this? I do not understand.”