Unwritten Desires-Chapter 52

Eleanor

It wasn’t long before we finally arrived at their home and a couple of minutes later, I had already showered and gotten into my pajamas.

And now comes the hard part.

Falling asleep.

I guess you could say that this was the main reason I was anxious in the first place.

I always had trouble falling asleep.

Some nights worse than the others but yeah...unless I was way completely exhausted and mentally drained, I wasn’t going to fall asleep so easily.

And I was getting completely sick of it.

I tossed and turned.

Then I shifted again.

The sheets were soft—really soft—and smelled like freshly washed linen and the air conditioner was on full blast, but for some reason, I still felt like my skin was too hot. Like something was crawling just beneath the surface, making it impossible to settle.

My legs rubbed together beneath the covers, and a frustrated breath escaped me.

This was ridiculous. I wasn’t even wearing anything heavy, just my usual pajama shorts and a tank top, but every position suddenly felt like too much.

Too tight. Too warm. And my body way too sensitive and aware.

I rolled over and pressed my face into the pillow, squeezing my eyes shut like that would force sleep to come rushing in.

But it didn’t.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, caught somewhere between irritation and... well, something else I definitely didn’t want to acknowledge.

I groaned internally, shutting my eyes tight before opening them again.

I had absolutely no intention of touching myself in a bedroom that wasn’t mine so I had no other choice than to find other ways to lull myself to sleep.

Which only left me with one other option.

Food.

If I couldn’t coax myself into sleep with exhaustion, I might as well feed myself into a cozy little food coma. Maybe something warm. Or sugary. Whatever they had in that kitchen.

I’m sure Adrian and Liam wouldn’t mind a poor girl snooping around in their kitchen past midnight.

I slipped out from under the sheets, dragging on my hoodie and ignoring how cold the floor felt beneath my feet as I slid them into my slippers and padded out of the room.

I’d been in their house before so it wasn’t going to be hard for me to find their kitchen.

In fact it was pretty easy because apparently it was the only room downstairs with a bright light, and it wasn’t until I walked into the kitchen that I realized why.

I stopped at the threshold, my legs freezing up.

And it certainly didn’t have anything to do with the cold.

There he was.

Standing in the middle of the ridiculously well-lit kitchen like this was the cover shoot of some edgy cooking magazine.

Shirtless.

And making a damn sandwich.

I blinked, twice, even tilted my head a little—because for a second I actually thought my brain was doing that thing where it filled in gaps and created illusions, like a dream stitched with too much clarity.

But no.

He was really there.

In nothing but sweatpants and that sharp, laser-cut silence of his.

He hadn’t noticed me yet, which made it all so much worse.

The muscles in his back shifted smoothly as he reached across the counter for something—mayo, maybe?—and I couldn’t stop the way my gaze trailed down.

His arms were veined but not overdone, his shoulders broad and sculpted like he did push-ups for fun at dawn or something stupid like that.

But that wasn’t even the part that got me.

It was the tattoos.

Bold, inked lines etched into the bare skin I’d never seen. I mean, come to think of it—I’d never seen Liam wear anything short-sleeved. Ever.

Everything he wore had long sleeves or layers, always black or grey, always buttoned, zipped, or closed.

So I guess that was why I never noticed the ink that climbed up his arms and wrapped around his biceps—or maybe I’d just never looked before.

Typical bad boy male lead energy I guess.

What was just left now was his damn motorcycle and flashy black helmet.

I mean I wouldn’t even be surprised if he had one.

And even though he wasn’t bulky in the gym-rat kind of way, he had this whole lean but still muscular frame going for him, and maybe that was why he was able to fool everyone into thinking that he was in his early twenties. I mean he just looked like he could be.

It was either that, or he’d somehow figured out how to cheat time with protein bars and a refusal to smile.

God.

I hated how magnetic it all was.

How he didn’t even try, and yet here I was, hiding half behind the doorway like I’d just walked in on something illegal.

Snap out of it, Eleanor.

You’re here for a midnight snack, not a thirst trap.

After a few deep breaths, I walked into the kitchen feeling rather self-conscious of my bare legs—but aside from a beat of hesitation and a single moment of eye contact, the damn asshole didn’t even acknowledge my presence.

He just went on with his sandwich preparation like no one walked in.

What the hell was wrong with this man?

I slowly made my way over to where he was standing by the counter, not quite sure if I was allowed to touch their groceries and not knowing how to ask him either.

Ugh gosh.

This was so unlike me. I was never this flustered around Liam and I definitely didn’t like this whole awkward tension between us.

It was making me very uncomfortable and I hated that.

So I decided to say something about it.

"Why aren’t you speaking to me?" My voice sounded embarrassingly loud in the quiet kitchen.

He didn’t answer me immediately and the silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable, like a web you didn’t see but ended up running into.

The soft hum of the refrigerator filled the quiet, a steady background noise that somehow made his silence even louder. I could hear the faint clink of the butter knife against the plate as he spread something on the bread with the calm of someone completely unbothered—or maybe just pretending to be.

I shifted on my feet, suddenly too aware of the cold air brushing against my legs again and the distant sound of the crickets chirping outside.

Was he ignoring me? Because if he was...

"What do you mean by that?" My internal rant was cut clean off by his sudden question and it took all my willpower not to raise my voice.

"Wha...what do I mean by that? Don’t play dumb, you know exactly what I mean. Ever since today you’ve been strangely quiet and I don’t even understand why," I tried my best to ignore the waves of heat radiating from his body.

"Well I’m not doing anything wrong am I?" He said calmly, before placing his now toasted sandwiches in a small bowl. "I’m just not obliged to talk to you when we’re not at school and—you know—putting on a show for everyone."

His response hit me like cold water, shocking me into silence.

I just stood there, blinking at the back of his head like my brain needed a few extra seconds to reboot.

And just when I thought that was the end of it, he added casually, "If you’re making a sandwich, don’t finish the ham—we’re almost out."

He gestured vaguely to the half-empty bag sitting on the counter like we were roommates or something.

Like that passive-aggressive bomb he just dropped didn’t completely wreck my entire emotional balance.

If his first comment had thrown me off... then this?

This was a full-blown emotional sucker punch wrapped in toasted bread and pettiness.

Before I could even think of replying or saying anything, he just turned ...and left.

I stood there, holding my empty stomach and even emptier pride, wondering how the hell I went from sleepless to speechless in five minutes flat...

...all because of a damn sandwich and a man who clearly knew exactly how to get under my skin.

The next morning, I had gotten ready for school as it was a weekday after all and since it was just way easier, I just tagged along with Liam in his car.

I had already texted Sofia to cover up for me just in case anyone asked if I actually spent the night at her place. And of course she demanded an explanation but I wasn’t going to give her one until we spoke in person.

Adrian had, surprisingly, made us a good breakfast—and even though I tried my best not to inflate his already oversized ego, well... the food was actually amazing.

Fluffy eggs, golden hash browns, and coffee just the way I liked it.

I didn’t tell him thank you, though. I just gave him a nod and muttered something about "not being poisoned" and he grinned like he’d just won a medal.

Typical.

Liam, on the other hand, barely touched his food. He just sipped his coffee in silence, not even sparing me a glance.

Not that I was watching or anything.

And now we were sitting side by side in a car and not saying a word to each other as he drove into the school’s parking lot.

On the bright side, it was a good thing for our image as boyfriend and girlfriend. The sweet somewhat loud couple that everyone knew about and either admired or gossiped about.

The second Liam parked the car, I rushed out, not wanting to spend another second in there with him—but I didn’t make it too obvious though.

I breathed in the fresh morning air as I tugged at the strap of my bag, adjusting it over my shoulder. I didn’t bother looking back at Liam—I didn’t need to. I could still feel his presence, like static lingering too close to my skin.

I had barely taken three steps forward when I heard someone call out my name.

"Thea?"

My body went still at the sound, stopping me dead in my tracks.

Every nerve in my body seemed to short-circuit at once as my eyes widened in horror and my fingers curled tighter around the strap of my bag.

God I knew that voice.

I shut my eyes tight, a part of me trying to brush it off and convince myself I was hearing things. But no level of denial was going to help me in this situation.

So I turned to where the voice had come from.

Slowly.

And when my eyes met his... my heart sank. Because as much as I had prayed, begged, and wished it wasn’t him...

It was exactly the face I feared I’d see.

It was Elvis.

It was... my brother.

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