Chapter. 04

{Third person's pov}

The apartment felt different when she came back.

Not quieter, just… heavier.

Natasha slipped off her heels near the door, the faint echo of the party still clinging to her skin, her hair, the fabric of the dress she hadn’t changed out of. The stain had dried into something dull and stubborn, a mark

she hadn’t tried to fix.

She didn’t turn on all the lights, Just one.

Enough to see, not enough to feel exposed. For a while, she didn’t move.

She stood near the window, arms folded loosely, looking out at the city like it might offer something, an answer, maybe. Or just distance.

Instead, all she could hear was his voice. It reflects on me. Her jaw tightened slightly.

She exhaled slowly, forcing the memory down, pressing it somewhere quieter.

It didn’t stay there, Nothing ever did.

The door opened behind her, She didn’t turn, She knew it was him.

Evan walked in like he always did, unhurried, composed, the faint scent of his cologne following him into the room.

There was no tension in his posture, no visible trace of the irritation from earlier. Like it had never happened.

The door clicked shut, Silence stretched for a moment.

“You left.” His voice was calm.

Natasha’s fingers tightened slightly against her arms, but she didn’t look at him. “You told me to.”

Soft footsteps crossed the room behind her. “I told you to fix it,” he corrected.

She turned then, finally, her expression steady but not soft. “I didn’t feel like going back.”

Evan studied her for a moment. Then he set his phone down on the table, removing his jacket with a slow, practiced motion, draping it neatly over the chair.

Everything about him was controlled.

“That wasn’t the best decision,” he said.

Natasha let out a quiet breath, something close to a laugh but not quite. “Of course it wasn’t.”

He didn’t react to the tone. Didn’t acknowledge it.

Instead, he stepped closer, stopping just short of her space. “I was frustrated,” he said.

She held his gaze. “You were more than frustrated.”

A flicker crossed his expression, brief, contained.

“You know how important that night was,” he continued, voice low. “You know the kind of people there.”

Natasha’s lips pressed together slightly. “Yes,” she said. “I do.”

“Then you understand why I reacted the way I did.”

The words settled between them.

She looked at him for a long moment, something unreadable in her eyes. “Do I?” she asked quietly.

Evan didn’t answer immediately. He stepped closer instead, closing the distance this time, his hand lifting to brush lightly against her arm.

The touch was gentle, Familiar. “I don’t like losing control like that,” he said.

His voice softened, not dramatically, just enough.

“It doesn’t happen often.”

Natasha’s breath slowed, her body instinctively stilling under his touch. “That’s not really my fault.”

“I didn’t say it was.” But he didn’t say it wasn’t either.

His fingers slid slightly along her arm, steady, grounding.

“You put me in a difficult position,” he added.

There it was again, Natasha’s brows pulled together faintly, something in her chest tightening, not quite anger this time.

“I spilled a drink,” she said. “You lost control,” he corrected again.

“You know how people watch you,” he continued, his voice even. “Every movement, every detail. You’re not just… anyone in that room.”

His hand moved from her arm to her jaw, tilting her face back toward him, not forceful, but deliberate. “I expect more from you.”

The words should have felt like pressure. And they did.

Natasha swallowed, her resistance faltering just slightly under the weight of it.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she said, softer now. “I know.”

That came easily, His thumb brushed once against her cheek, slow, almost absentminded.

“You looked perfect tonight,” he added. The shift was subtle, but immediate.

“You always do.” Her breath caught just a little. And she hated that it did.

Evan pulled her closer then, one hand settling at her waist, firm but not harsh, drawing her into something that felt familiar.

“You just need to be more careful,” he murmured.

The words settled quietly. Natasha didn’t respond right away.

Her hands rested lightly against his chest, not pushing him away, not pulling him closer either.

For a moment, she thought about the terrace.

About the quiet. About the way Ethan had looked at her, not correcting, not shaping, not expecting.

Just… seeing.

Her chest tightened slightly. Then Evan’s hand shifted at her waist, grounding, present.

Her fingers curled slightly into his shirt. Not a full response. But not resistance either.

Evan noticed, He always noticed. “Good,” he said softly.

And just like that, The tension eased.

Natasha let her eyes close briefly, leaning into him just enough to make it real. Just enough to make it convincing. Because it was easier than pulling away.

Easier than questioning it. Easier than asking herself why something that felt this calm… also felt like it was closing in.

Evan broke the hug and caressed her cheeks, "Look I didn't mean to shout at you my baby, It just happened you know... I care about you, I love you." He whispered.

She just stared at him, "You don't love me?" he asked and she took a deep breath, "I do, I love you, but when you get angry it feels suffocating." She replied.

"I understand, I won't repeat that if you stay careful from now on." There it was again, Him controlling her actions rather than his own.

He leaned in and joined their lips in a very slow and passionate kiss. "Are you tired?" He asked after breaking the kiss, "yeah." she said.

"Fine... you should sleep then." He said and she nodded, She immediately walked inside the room.