Grace waited for his response, and much to her relief, Davian stepped aside and allowed her entrance into his apartment without a word.
The living room was dimly lit, and the only source of light was the single lamp sitting in the corner. The place felt cold and empty, much like the man standing before her.
"I heard about Marcus and Julian," she began, keeping her voice quiet but steady.
Davian’s jaw tightened, and he looked away. "I did what I had to do."
"I know," she replied, stepping closer. "And I’m not here to judge you. I just… I wanted to make sure you are okay."
He let out a bitter laugh. "Okay? Grace, I killed them. They trusted me, and I—"
"You saved them from something worse," she interrupted him firmly. "You gave them peace, Davian. That doesn’t make you a monster. It makes you human."
He funally turned to her then, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and gratitude. "I don’t know how you do it," he said softly. "How you stay so strong."
Grace shook her head, and a small but sad smile appeared on her lips. "I’m not as strong as you think. But I know one thing - we can’t do this alone. We have to rely on each other."
For a moment, he just looked at her, and then, without warning, he pulled her into a hug.
Grace froze as she was caught off guard, but then she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly.
"You are not alone, Davian," she whispered. "I’m here. We will get through this together. I promise."
The apartment was filled with silence as they stood there in each other’s arms. The dim light was casting long shadows on the walls, but the real darkness was in Davian’s eyes as he pulled away from Grace.
The hug had been brief but charged with a depth of understanding and trust that the two of them had developed over time. Grace could still feel the weight of his grief in the way he held her, as though letting go would cause him to fall apart.
"Thank you," he murmured and his voice was barely audible.
Grace nodded and stepping back just enough to give him space while still staying close. "You don’t have to thank me," she said softly. "That’s what friends do."
His lips curved into a faint, almost humorless smile. "Friends," he repeated, the word carrying a hint of bitterness. He ran a hand through his silver strands, his shoulders slumping as he moved to sit on the edge of the worn-out couch.
Grace hesitated before sitting down beside him, careful to leave a small gap between them. "You have carried too much alone for too long," she said. "It’s okay to lean on someone else for a change."
He turned his head to look at her, and his deep blue eyes started studying her face as though searching for something. "You have lost people too," he said after a moment. "And yet, you keep going. How?"
The question made her pause. Memories of her past - the betrayal, her death, and those painful and lonely last moments - they flooded her mind. She took a deep breath to ground herself before answering.
"Because stopping isn’t an option," she said quietly. "If I give up, then everything I have done, everything I have fought for, will mean nothing. And I refuse to let that happen."
He leaned back and once again locked his gaze on her. "You make it sound so simple."
"It’s not," she admitted. "But it’s worth it."
The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. Grace was able to feel the warmth of his presence beside her, a stark contrast to the chill of the room.
"You don’t have to do this alone, Davian," she said softly, breaking the silence. "I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere."
For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, he reached out and took her hand in his.
The gesture was unexpected, and it caused Grace’s breath to catch in her throat. His hand was warm, while his grip was firm but not overpowering. She looked down at their joined hands with her heart pounding in her chest.
"I’m not used to this," he said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
"Used to what?" she asked, her own voice coming out just as soft.
"Letting someone in," he admitted. "It’s always been easier to keep people at arm’s length. Safer."
Grace’s heart ached at his words. Not only because she could see the walls he had built around himself, or the scars left by two lifetimes of loss and pain, but also because she knew exactly what he meant by those words. It was almost like he was talking about her and not himself.
"You don’t have to be afraid," she said while giving his hand a gentle squeeze before standing up. "I’m not going to hurt you."
He looked at her then, really looked at her, as he too followed her and stood up. All she was able to see in his eyes was the trust he had been showing in her all this time. The intensity of his gaze made her stomach flutter, and she just stepped forward to hug him again, not sure who exactly needed that physical comfort more - him or her.
The air between them started growing heavier from that moment even though they were no longer looking into each other’s eyes. It was thick with unspoken words and emotions too vast to contain.
She stood there holding him with her head resting lightly on his shoulder. His warmth seeped into her, chasing away the chill that had clung to her since stepping into the dimly lit apartment.
For a while, they stayed like that - silent, still, but acutely aware of each other’s presence. She was able to feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the faint tremble in his hand as it rested on her back.
But the quiet wasn’t enough to hold back the tide of emotions building within them.