The Library

Lilith

T he moment I step inside my apartment, Derek’s arm is tight around my waist, guiding me like I’m a doll, barely able to keep my feet under me. My vision is swimming, and my legs feel like jelly. I can barely keep track of where we are, the dim lighting in the hallway making everything blur together. I don’t even remember how we got up the stairs.

“Thanks, Derek,” I mumble, my voice slurred. “You can go now.”

But he doesn’t leave. Instead, he leads me inside, closing the door behind us with a soft click. The sound feels too final, like a door shutting on more than just the night. A strange feeling of unease flutters in my stomach, but I brush it off. He’s my friend. He’s been there for me for years.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Derek says, his voice overly calm, as though he’s trying too hard to sound sweet. His hand lingers on my arm a little too long, his touch starting to feel less friendly and more possessive.

“Yeah, bed,” I mutter, stumbling toward the couch, but Derek steers me toward the bedroom instead. “No, just… couch is fine.”

But Derek doesn’t seem to hear me. Or he doesn’t care. He’s guiding me farther into my apartment, his hand firm on my lower back now. My head feels heavy, like it’s filled with fog, and the room spins with every step I take.

“You need to lie down,” Derek insists, his tone shifting slightly, becoming more assertive. “I’ll take care of you.”

I try to focus, to make sense of the warning bells going off in my mind, but everything is so muddled. My instincts are screaming that something isn’t right, but my body isn’t responding the way it should. My legs feel weak, my muscles sluggish, and my thoughts are hazy. What’s wrong with me?

When we reach the bedroom, Derek pushes me gently toward the bed, and I collapse onto it, my head spinning. He’s standing over me now, looking down with something dark in his eyes, something that makes my pulse race with unease.

“Derek, I’m fine. You should go,” I say, trying to sit up, but my body refuses to cooperate.

Instead of leaving, he sits on the edge of the bed, his hand trailing up my arm. His touch is soft at first, but there’s an edge to it that wasn’t there before. A hunger. I try to pull away, but it’s as if my limbs aren’t my own anymore. Everything feels heavy, uncooperative.

“Derek, stop,” I whisper, my voice weak. “We’re just friends.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as if I’ve said something ridiculous. “Friends? Lily, come on. You’ve got to know by now that I’ve always wanted more. I’ve been waiting for you… for years.”

My heart sinks as his words hit me. This isn’t the Derek I know. The sweet, harmless guy I’ve been friends with for so long. There’s something else lurking behind his eyes now, something dark and desperate.

“No,” I say firmly, trying to push myself off the bed, but my arms are too weak. “We’re friends, Derek. Nothing more.”

His expression hardens, his hand sliding up my thigh now, his grip firm. “No one’s ever going to love you the way I do. No one else will ever care for you like I do. You don’t even realize how lucky you are.”

Panic starts to claw at my chest, adrenaline surging through me, momentarily clearing some of the fog from my mind. I need to get out of here. I need to stall, to think, to do anything to buy myself time.

“Okay,” I whisper, forcing myself to sound calm. “I just… I need a minute, okay? Let me freshen up, take a quick shower. I want this to be… special.”

Derek pauses, his eyes narrowing as if he’s considering whether or not to believe me. His hand lingers on my leg, squeezing slightly before he lets out a sigh and pulls away.

“Fine,” he mutters, standing up. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, Lily. I’ve waited long enough.”

I nod quickly, my heart hammering in my chest as I push myself up from the bed. My legs are shaky as I stumble toward the bathroom, my mind racing. I need to call for help. I need to get out of here.

The moment I step into the bathroom, I close the door and lock it behind me. My breath comes in short, panicked gasps as I lean against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My skin is pale, my eyes wide with fear. What the hell is happening? How did this night spiral so far out of control?

I fumble for my phone, planning to call Anna, to call anyone, but when I reach into my pocket, my heart sinks. It’s not there. I frantically check the bathroom counter, the sink, everywhere, but it’s gone. My phone is gone.

Panic rises in my throat as I realize I must have left it at the party. Or… did Sebastian take it? I can’t remember. Everything after that encounter with him in the bathroom is a blur, a haze of desire and confusion. Either way, I’m trapped.

I turn on the shower, hoping the sound will buy me more time. Maybe Derek will think I’m in here getting ready, and I can figure out a way to escape. But what the hell am I supposed to do without my phone? How can I get out of this without making things worse?

I strip off my dress, stepping under the hot spray of the shower, my mind racing with every possible scenario. Maybe I can talk Derek down. Maybe he’s just drunk, and when he sobers up, he’ll realize how wrong this is. Maybe he’ll leave on his own.

I scrub my skin, trying to wash away the night, but the fear lingers, clinging to me like a second skin. I stay in the shower longer than I need to, hoping that by the time I step out, Derek will have come to his senses and left.

But when I finally shut off the water and wrap a towel around myself, I can’t hear anything from the other side of the door. My heart pounds as I turn the doorknob, stepping back into the bedroom.

It’s empty.

Derek is gone.

I blink, trying to process what I’m seeing. The bed is rumpled, but there’s no sign of him. Did he leave? Just like that? Relief floods through me, but it’s mixed with confusion. Why would he just… go?

I walk cautiously into the living room, peeking around the corner, but the apartment is silent. Empty. Maybe he realized what he was doing was wrong. Maybe the alcohol finally hit him, and he decided to leave before he made things worse.

For a moment, I allow myself to breathe again. Maybe it’s over. Maybe I’m safe now.

But as I make my way toward the window, ready to close the curtains, something catches my eye. A sleek black motorcycle in the parking lot.

It’s his. Sebastian’s.

A strange mix of emotions floods through me—relief, fear, desire. I step closer to the window, staring at the bike parked in the same spot I’ve seen it before. What is he doing here?

And why does a part of me feel… glad?

I let out a shaky breath, running my fingers through my damp hair. My thoughts are a jumbled mess, and I can’t make sense of anything right now. But one thing is certain: Sebastian is still watching me. And despite everything, the thought of that sends a thrill through me that I can’t deny.

I should close the window. I should lock the door. But instead, I linger there, staring down at his bike, wondering what he’s thinking, wondering if he’s going to come to me.

God, what am I doing?

I shake my head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they stick, clinging to the edges of my mind. I can’t stop thinking about him, about the way he looked at me at the party, about the way he touched me in the bathroom. The way he walked away, leaving me wanting more.

I turn away from the window, heading back toward the bedroom. My legs are still shaky, my body still humming from the adrenaline, but I’m too tired and too messed up to care. All I want to do is crawl into bed and forget this night ever happened.

But as I pull back the covers, something catches my eye on the nightstand.

A note. A single piece of paper with bold, dark handwriting. With one single lily sitting on it. Along with my cell phone.

I’ll always keep you safe.

The signature at the bottom sends a shiver down my spine.

Sebastian.