The air in the room grew thick with tension, an almost suffocating heat pressing down on them both. Rose's heart pounded in her chest as Julian advanced, his normally sharp gaze clouded with something she had never seen before—desperation, longing, and a need so raw it sent shivers down her spine. His breath was ragged, his fists clenched as if he was battling something deep within himself.
She took a step back, her mind racing, searching for answers. This wasn't normal—this wasn't him. The Julian she had observed was composed, distant, a man of control. But now… now he looked as if he were fighting against an invisible force pulling him under.
"Julian," she whispered, unsure, testing the name on her tongue to see if it would bring him back to himself. His lips parted, his throat working as he swallowed hard, as if trying to suppress something overwhelming.
"Rose…" His voice was strained, filled with an agony she couldn't quite place. "Please… help me."
Help him? How?
Her mind spun wildly as she took in his posture, his labored breathing, the flush creeping up his neck. And then, like a bolt of lightning, realization struck her.
Was something added to his drink?
She had read about things like this in novels, but never in her wildest dreams did she think she would witness it firsthand. A powerful, composed man unraveling before her, completely at the mercy of whatever had been forced upon him.
Her hands clenched into fists. Anger stirred beneath her shock. Someone did this to him. Someone wanted him like this.
Julian's body tensed as he reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm, and a deep tremor ran through him. He sucked in a sharp breath, his body shuddering. The contact seemed to only make it worse, his pupils dilating further.
"Julian," she said more firmly this time. "Look at me. You have to fight this."
His jaw clenched, his muscles twitching as though they were betraying him. "I—can't." His voice was hoarse, wrecked. "It's… too much."
He turned away, dragging a hand through his hair, his movements restless, agitated. The sheer restraint in his form was heartbreaking—every fiber of him was screaming for relief, yet he refused to lose himself to it completely.
Rose exhaled slowly.
She knew what needed to be done. But the thought of it sent ice and fire warring within her. She had always dreamed that her first time would be special, something sacred, wrapped in love and passion. This was neither of those things.
But this was Julian—this was a man in distress, a man fighting something beyond his control. And for reasons she couldn't quite understand, she didn't want to see him suffer.
She stepped forward, closing the space between them. His breathing hitched as she reached up, her fingers trembling as they brushed against his burning skin.
"Julian… trust me."
His eyes met hers then, something flickering behind them—hope, need, and something else entirely. Something she wasn't ready to name.
And as she leaned in, making a choice that would change everything, she prayed that somehow, they would both come out of this unbroken.