CHAPTER 99: FIRST LONG "NORMAL" CONVERSATION

Alice didn’t sit.

She stood frozen in place, trying to decide whether to throw a pillow at him or crawl back under the covers and pretend none of this was happening. He had walked into her room like he lived there. Like it wasn’t strange. And now telling her to sit that he wanted to chat with her?

"I’m not in the mood," she muttered, rubbing her temple. Her head throbbed, a dull, insistent ache. "I have a headache."

He leaned back against the couch cushion, arms spread, "So do I," he replied casually, his voice a low rumble. "But I’m still here."

She gave him a look, her eyes narrowed. "Did you come here to annoy me?"

He tilted his head, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. "I’m not that free."

Alice eyed him, her gaze unwavering. He stared back at her, his dark eyes unreadable.

Yeah. She lost.

She slowly went to the couch opposite him and sat down, her movements stiff with reluctance. She didn’t know how she looked, but she bet she wasn’t in her best state. Messy. Disheveled. She was really ruining Aurora’s reputation daily.

"I think I hate you," she said quietly, the words slipping out, remembering earlier today. How he had embarrassed her in public. How he had called her bluff by trying to have her stab him. And how he had called her "wifey."

The sheer audacity of it all.

"I think you don’t know what you think," he replied without heat, as if stating an indisputable fact.

Silence lingered between them for a few moments, surprisingly not hostile. Just... there. A strange, almost comfortable quiet.

Hades glanced around the room again, noting the pile of unpacked clothes, a glass of untouched water on the bedside table, and the half-crumpled jacket from earlier draped over the chair.

"You’re messy," he said, almost to himself.

"Sorry for ruining your precious palace." She replied, sarcasm laced in her tone.

He merely shrugged, unfazed.

He said no words again.

Like for real, didn’t he come to say words?

Her eyes flicked to him, wary, frustrated by his silence. "You’re really weird, you know that?"

"I’ve been told," he replied smoothly. "Usually right before someone runs away."

Her lips quirked. Just a little. She didn’t want to smile, but it snuck in at the edges, a tiny, involuntary twitch.

Like, shit. What the hell is amusing?

She sat up straighter, her gaze hardening, trying to re-establish some semblance of control.

"You don’t have to stay, you know," she said after a beat, her voice quieter now, almost a challenge. "I’ll be fine."

He didn’t answer immediately. He reached for a cushion beside him and turned it over idly in his hands, his movements slow and deliberate.

"I know," he said at last. His eyes, when they finally met hers, were strangely intense. "But I’m not staying for you."

Her brow furrowed. "What?"

"I’m staying because I want to see how long it takes the doctor to arrive." He gave her a dry, almost bored look. "Also, I’m mildly entertained by how twitchy you get when I’m in your space."

She scoffed in disbelief, a harsh, humorless sound. "Animal." She muttered, more to herself than to him. "This is actually hell."

"You did well not taking the car." He said, changing the subject abruptly.

She looked at him, wondering the intention behind that. Also, he hadn’t told her what he had done with or to the Clarksons.

"Why? I earned it, didn’t I?" Her voice was laced with a hint of defiance.

"I hear their girl is a bully." His voice was flat, matter-of-fact. "Don’t you find it insulting receiving a gift from your bully even if it’s something you believe you earned?" His voice was calm. So calm it was soothing. "You’re just giving them more space to bully you. You’re bigger than that, little girl. If you want that model, I’ll get it for you in a second."

Okay... let’s go slowly.

What he had said made sense. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it. Receiving the gift from the Clarksons would just make Linda be Linda more. But who would blame her? She wasn’t Aurora. Yes, she was being selfish. But she was Alice. Poor, broke, Alice.

And the reason she was here in the first place was to have a good life in the future. For herself. Paula. Vivian. It wasn’t fair to Aurora, but what choice did she have? She was in prison here.

But then, her brain slowed at his last words, "If you want that model, I’ll get it for you in a second."

Was this what it felt like to be rich? To live without worry?

A small, painful laugh escaped her as she looked down. Life was really unfair. So bloody unfair.

"What’s funny?" He said quietly, pulling her back. His voice had softened almost imperceptibly.

She looked up at him, still cautious, still unsure how close to let him be even now.

She tucked her knees up, arms wrapped loosely around them, and after a long moment she asked, "You... didn’t really get involved in the drug thing, right?"

Hades didn’t react immediately. His thumb halted over the cushion fabric he’d been toying with. Then he turned his head slowly, eyes settling on her with a look too precise to be casual.

"Why are you asking me in that tone?" he questioned, his voice sharp with suspicion.

She blinked. "What tone?"

"That tone," he said calmly, "like you’re desperate to believe I didn’t."

She scoffed, shaking her head too fast, a flush creeping up her neck. "I wasn’t desperate. I’m just... curious."

His gaze didn’t waver.

"Mm." He leaned back again, this time letting his eyes trail to the ceiling before answering, "I’m not that extreme."

A long silence. She exhaled, almost too softly for him to hear, a quiet relief.

Then she asked, her voice barely a whisper, "Do you... do you know who did?"

He quirked a brow at that, glancing sideways at her. "You believe me that easily?"

She met his gaze squarely this time, unflinching. "You might be all the bad things I imagined... but you don’t strike me as the type who lies. Especially not when you think you’re untouchable."

That made him chuckle. It was dry, but genuine. And unexpected. A rare, raw sound that vibrated oddly in the quiet room.

She looked at him, startled by the sound. Not because it was loud, but because it didn’t sound like him. It sounded almost... human.

He noticed.

"Don’t look at me like that," he said, voice quiet, a warning-soft undertone.

"I’m not looking," she snapped automatically, a flush crawling up her neck. "And you’re the one who came to my room."

"Fair enough," he murmured.

But even as he said it, she noticed something else: he wasn’t answering her question anymore. The one about who was behind the drug setup and the damage done to Derren. In fact, he barely answered any of her questions. He only picked what he was interested in answering. Very diplomatic. Very... Hades.

Yet... this was probably the longest, most normal conversation they had ever had. And it was all so strange.

He fiddled again with his shirt cuff, then asked, without looking at her, "Do you really think Block A would be better for you?"

Alice hesitated. The thought of Block A, with its unpredictable chaos felt both terrifying. She knew it wasn’t the best for her. She knew he also knew that.

The question didn’t come across as mocking. If anything, it sounded like he actually wanted an answer.

She looked down at her hands. Her fingers were cold. She hadn’t realized it until now.

"I don’t know," she said finally, her honesty shocking even herself. "Maybe I just want to breathe without feeling like I’m walking a tightrope."

"I make you feel that way?" He asked, his voice unexpectedly sharp, a hint of something raw beneath his usual controlled tone.

She nodded slowly, unable to deny it.

He was quiet for a beat. Still. Too still. Then he let out a breath, long and controlled, the kind that held back everything else he could have said but didn’t.

"I scare you?" he asked at last.

She looked up, startled. Not by the words, but by the way he said them. Quiet. Unpolished. Like he wasn’t sure what he was even asking.

Alice didn’t answer right away. Her throat felt thick. She wasn’t used to him like this. Hell, she wasn’t used to anyone being like this. Not with her.

"You don’t... scare me," she said finally.

"Not exactly. It’s more like... you always feel one second away from doing something I can’t predict. Like throwing me in the fire and pretending it was a lesson."

His eyes locked with hers. Dark. Still unreadable, but less distant now. "That’s fair."

Their banter had softened the air between them. That suffocating tension was still there, but it no longer felt like a knife held at her throat. More like... a strange kind of gravity.

Alice looked away again, suddenly aware of how close he was, even from the other couch. Her pulse ticked at her wrist. "You really won’t tell me what you did to Linda and who hurt Derren?" she asked again, this time without accusation. Just quiet curiosity.

"I only spoke with her... briefly." He paused. "And for the dude, I don’t know who."

She looked at him, wondering whether to believe him or not. But there was not enough time to think.

The soft knock came on the door.

The doctor was here.

Hades quietly disappeared.

And the others in the apartment were having a WHAT THE HELL moment because Hades had disappeared inside her room for 20 minutes. 20 FULL MINUTES WITH A LADY!

Should they be planning a burial?