Chapter 19: A Shared Moment

Dia’s POV

I was seated cross-legged on the soft carpet of the library, a book open in my lap, though I wasn’t really reading. My fingers idly traced the edges of the pages as I stared at the massive collection around me. The silence in the library was comforting, almost soothing.

Then I felt it—the heavy, unyielding presence of someone watching me. Slowly, I turned my head toward the doorway and saw him standing there. Ekansh’s tall frame leaned casually against the doorframe, his intense eyes fixed on me.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

I scrambled to stand, the book still in my hand. “I… I was just looking around,” I said, my voice timid.

He walked into the library, his steps slow and deliberate. There was something about the way he moved, a quiet power in every step that made me both nervous and oddly comforted. He stopped a few feet away from me, his dark eyes scanning the shelves before they landed back on me.

“What kind of books do you like?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

I hesitated for a moment before answering, “Fiction. Mostly stories with… strong emotions, I guess.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Stories with emotions, huh? So you like books that make you feel something.”

I nodded, surprised by the softness in his tone. “I think books are an escape. They let you live someone else’s life, even if just for a little while.”

He stepped closer, his towering presence making my heart race. “Show me your favorite,” he said, gesturing to the book in my hand.

I held up the book I had picked at random. It wasn’t really my favorite, but I handed it to him anyway. His long fingers brushed against mine as he took it, and I felt a strange warmth spread through me.

He looked at the cover, then flipped through a few pages. “Interesting choice,” he murmured, his voice low.

Ekansh’s POV

Her choice of book surprised me. It wasn’t a predictable romance or a light read—it was something deeper, a story about loss and resilience. I glanced at her, noticing the way she fidgeted under my gaze. There was a quiet strength to her, even in her timid movements.

“You said books are an escape,” I said, closing the book and handing it back to her. “What are you trying to escape from, Dia?”

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, I thought she might not answer. But then she looked away, clutching the book to her chest.

“Memories,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Something twisted in my chest at her words. Memories—ones that haunted her, that weighed her down. I wanted to tell her she didn’t have to carry them alone, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I reached out and gently touched her shoulder.

“You don’t have to escape here,” I said quietly. “This library, this house—it’s yours to use however you like. No one will bother you.”

She looked up at me then, her eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered.

I nodded, stepping back to give her space. But as I left the library, I couldn’t shake the image of her standing there, holding that book as if it were her shield.

Dia’s POV

As Ekansh left the library, I sat back down, my heart still racing. His words echoed in my mind: You don’t have to escape here.

For the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of safety. It was a fragile feeling, but it was there.

I opened the book again, letting the words on the page draw me in. But even as I read, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ekansh—the way his voice softened when he spoke to me, the way he looked at me like he was trying to figure me out.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the monster I had once believed him to be.