CHAPTER 60: CHAPTER 60: HOPELESS

Elias stayed seated on the edge of the bed, elbows braced on his knees, listening to the water cut off with a sharp twist of metal.

Silence followed, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric and the low creak of a hinge as the bathroom door swung open.

Steam curled out first, soft and warm, ghosting across the cooler air of the suite. Then Victor stepped through, a towel draped low at his hips and another slung carelessly around his neck as he scrubbed the damp from his dark hair. Droplets traced down the line of his shoulders, catching in the muted morning light, running over pale skin marked faintly by those strange ether‑etched channels Elias had seen flare before.

Victor paused when he saw him awake. One dark brow lifted, crimson eyes flicking from Elias’s face to the way he sat, rumpled, bare feet on the floor, expression still caught between sleep and thought.

"I thought you would sleep in," Victor said, voice rough from steam and silence. He leaned a shoulder lightly against the doorframe, the easy weight of his presence filling the room far more than the soft hiss of dissipating steam.

Elias dragged a hand over his face, fingers combing briefly through his hair as if that would chase away the heaviness clinging to him.

"You’re loud in the mornings," he muttered, though his tone was soft, lacking any real bite. His gaze swept briefly over Victor, over the steam curling behind him, over the gleam of water tracing those pale channels on his skin, and then dropped to the floor again.

Victor’s mouth curved faintly, a slow, knowing smile tugging at the corner.

"Loud?" he echoed, amusement threading through the word. He shifted his weight against the frame, the towel at his neck sliding lower as he raked a hand through damp hair. "I haven’t been loud yet."

Elias huffed something that could almost pass for a laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Spare me. It’s too early for whatever you’re implying."

Victor pushed off the frame then, unhurried, steps soft against the rug as he crossed to the dresser. He moved with that same muted confidence that filled the space without effort, rifling through a neatly folded stack of clothes.

"There is a guest bathroom at the end of the hallway."

Victor’s tone was casual, but there was something in the way he said it—low, even, like he’d already thought ahead for him.

Elias let out another breath, this one steadier, and pushed his hands against his knees, rising from the edge of the bed. The sheets whispered against his legs as he stood, still barefoot on the warm rug, eyes following Victor for a beat before glancing toward the hallway Victor had mentioned.

"You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?" Elias said quietly, his voice carrying that dry edge of snark he defaulted to when something felt too intimate, too careful.

Victor paused with a clean shirt in hand, his crimson eyes meeting Elias’s in the mirror above the dresser. His smile was faint, but it lingered like an echo.

"For you?" His shoulders shifted in a small shrug, droplets of water sliding down the line of his back. "I try."

Elias looked away first, rubbing at his jaw with his thumb as if considering whether to say more. The quiet between them stretched for a breath, softened by the muted morning light and the faint hum of the suite’s air system.

He took a step toward the hallway, then stopped, glancing back over his shoulder, hair falling slightly into his eyes.

"Victor?"

Victor looked up again, still toweling his hair. "Hm?"

"You don’t make it easy to hate you, you know that?" Elias said, voice dry but softer than before, almost an admission.

Victor’s answering laugh was low and quiet, almost a hum. "Good," he said simply, turning back to his reflection as Elias disappeared into the hall toward the guest bathroom.

—

The door shut behind Elias with a muted click, sealing him into the quiet of the guest bath.

It was exactly what he expected from Victor’s wing: muted marble, gleaming fixtures, everything understated but crafted with the kind of precision that screamed wealth without ever needing to boast.

Elias turned the tap, letting the hot water roar into life, steam quickly blurring the wide mirror. He stepped under the spray, closing his eyes as the heat spread over his skin and loosened the tightness in his shoulders.

It helped. For a moment.

But thoughts, he ignored all night, clawed back in.

Danger had a way of creeping under your skin. The intruder, Matteo’s voice, Matteo’s real voice, that obsessive edge he’d kept hidden for years, all of it made something shift in him, made him feel tethered to Victor in a way that unsettled him.

Not because Victor had demanded it. He did but that would just make Elias want to leave. Victor had been honest in his own sharp, guarded way.

But because Elias felt it anyway. A pull. A reliance he wasn’t ready to admit.

He ran his fingers through wet hair, letting the water drum harder against his neck.

’I’m not stupid. I know he’s hiding things.’

Yes, Victor needed him. Yes, Victor had saved him, twice now. But beneath that, there were shadows Victor hadn’t named, truths tucked behind those crimson eyes. And Elias hated that despite knowing all this, he still felt safer here than anywhere else.

He tilted his head back, letting the water wash over his face, warm and relentless.

He’s a tsunami, Elias thought, a faint, humorless smile tugging at his lips. And I haven’t even begun to process what that means.

Because he did feel something. That much he could no longer deny. But the pace of it, the pull of it, was overwhelming.

When he finally shut the water off, the silence rushed back in, heavy and full. He stood there for a moment, palms braced on the marble wall, head bowed, steam curling around him like the echoes of a storm he hadn’t chosen but couldn’t escape.

A strange feeling clawing at his back... hopelessness.