Chapter 289: confession
SYLAS
You make it so hard not to fall for you, Aria.
God, why the hell did I say that?
The words dropped from my mouth like I was vomiting them out. And the moment they were out there... suspended in the air between us, wrapped in the scent of alcohol and something softer... I couldn’t take them back.
I didn’t even want to.
Not really.
But f*ck, I was terrified.
Aria turned to me slowly. "Sylas..." she said my name in that careful way... like it was something fragile. Like I was something fragile.
I tried to read her expression but everything was blurred... by the drinks, the lights, her goddamn face. She was kneeling on the seat like a painting, framed by the sky, and all I could do was stare.
I’d always known this would happen.
Maybe not now.
Maybe not here.
But one day.
One day, it was going to spill out of me. Because it had been building for months... ever since I saw her for the first time, all sharp edges and soft eyes and sadness she tried to hide with sarcasm.
Ever since I wondered if she was real.
If I’d imagined her.
If maybe I’d dreamed her into existence out of my own loneliness.
And now here she was.
Real. Warm. So close I could count the breaths between us.
Without thinking... because thinking would have killed the courage... I reached out and pulled her toward me.
She didn’t fight it.
Her body slid into mine like it belonged there, her knees tucked under her, her arms hanging loosely as I wrapped mine around her waist. I held her like something I was scared of losing. Because I was.
I tilted my head back to look up at her.
Her eyes were searching mine, her lips parted just slightly... caught between a question and a breath.
"I’m in love with you," I said again, quieter this time. Like it was sacred. Like if I said it loud enough, it might break something.
"I think I have been since the moment I saw you," I admitted, my voice barely holding steady. "When I thought you were a ghost... or some hallucination. You were too damn beautiful. And sad. And so f*cking real."
Her lips parted further, but she didn’t speak.
So I kept going. Like a fool. Like a man confessing to his own ruin.
"I think about you all the time. I try not to, but it’s impossible. You live in my head like you pay rent there. I dream about you. I fantasize about you. And not just the sweet kind... though God, Aria, I could write novels about the way I want to hold you."
I let out a short, broken laugh. My heart was thundering in my chest. I pressed my forehead into her stomach.
"You feel like home," I mumbled into her warmth. "And I know I’m being selfish. I know you’re grieving and I’m supposed to be comforting you... not throwing my feelings at your feet. But if I don’t say it now... I’m scared I’ll never get to. And I don’t want to pretend anymore. Not with you."
I rubbed my cheek gently against her shirt like an idiot. Like some stupid, touch-starved animal.
"I’m not asking you to love me back," I whispered. "Just... don’t walk away yet."
Everything went quiet.
The kind of quiet that seeps into your bones. That hushes the world around you so you can hear the sound of your own heart breaking.
She didn’t say anything at first.
And in that pause... long and heavy and cruel... I started to wish I’d imagined everything. The rooftop. The alcohol. The stars. The confession.
But then...
Her fingers brushed into my hair. Slow. Gentle. Cold.
She skimmed them down to the back of my neck, her touch chilling the heat burning there.
I held my breath.
"...Sylas," she said softly.
My name didn’t sound like a warning or a rejection. It sounded like grief.
She cupped my face in her hands and tilted it up to meet her gaze.
Her fingers were cool, but her eyes... f*ck... her eyes were warm and sad, like she already hated what she was about to do.
Like she was mourning me while I was still here, clinging to her like a goddamn ghost.
And the moment I saw that smile... that soft, broken sorry-I-can’t smile, I knew.
I f*cking knew.
"You don’t have to say anything," I croaked, already shaking my head. "I get it. It’s fine."
But she didn’t pull away. "Sylas, please. Let me say it."
No.
No, don’t.
Don’t say it. Let me live in the lie a little longer.
"I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel anything," she said. Her voice was low and careful, and somehow it made everything worse. "Because I do. I really do. There’s something about you that... I don’t know. It’s warm. It’s why I’ve let you stay. Why I didn’t push you away."
My arms tightened around her waist, pulling her down until she was straddling my lap. I buried my face into her chest, holding her like she was slipping through my fingers. Like she was the only thing keeping me breathing.
"But... "
"No," I cut in, my voice shaking. "Don’t say it."
"Sylas..."
"Don’t."
She hesitated. Her hands trembled as she touched my jaw.
"I love Kael," she whispered.
And there it was.
Sharp. Clean. Final.
I pressed my face into her neck, where her scent still clung to her skin... something faint and familiar, and already slipping away from me.
"Stop it," I begged. My voice was hoarse. My eyes burned. "Just stop."
"I’m sorry," she murmured again. "I didn’t want to hurt you. But it wouldn’t be fair to you if I... "
"I don’t care," I choked out, pulling her impossibly closer. "I don’t care if you love him. I already knew you’d pick him. I knew."
Her breath caught.
"But I still want a chance," I whispered. " I don’t care if you use me. I still want you. Even if it’s hopeless. Even if it’s pathetic. Let me stay. Let me be here for you. Let me love you, even if it’s one-sided."
She shook her head. "That’s not love, Sylas. That’s hurting yourself."
"Then let me hurt," I said, tears finally spilling over. "Let me hurt for you."
"You’re breaking my heart," she whispered.
I let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah? Welcome to the club."
She didn’t say anything for a moment.
She just wrapped her arms around me, and I think that’s when I really broke... because it felt like a goodbye wearing the mask of comfort.
I held her like she was mine.
Knowing she never really was.
And maybe never would be.