Rude bastard!

Elena

I barely slept last night. Every time I closed my eyes, Silas’s glare and Adrian’s snarling exit replayed in my mind. Morning light crept through the curtains, but by the time I forced myself to get up from the couch I fell asleep yesterday, the house was empty and cold.

I slid off the cushions and marched to the kitchen. A mug sat on the counter, half-filled with bitter coffee. My breath caught. He’d made this for himself, not me.

Such a bastard!

A soft click at the front door made me turn around. Silas stood in the doorway soaked, rain dripping off his coat. His hair clinged to his forehead, his eyes narrowed. He didn’t speak; he just folded his arms, waiting.

“Good morning,” I tried. My voice trembled.

He snorted. “Don’t start with that shit, Elena.” He swept past me and grabbed the mug without offering a refill. He drained it in one long swallow, then slammed it back down. “You were late,” he said flatly.

“I—I know. I’m sorry,” I stammered, my heart sinking.

He jabbed a finger at me. “Sorry isn’t a magic word, Elena. You couldn’t bother to show up when I told you to.”

My cheeks burned. “I lost track of time painting. It means a lot to me…”

“Don’t give me excuses.” His tone was ice. “Your feelings don’t matter. What were you thinking? What if something bad happened?” He spun on his heel and strode out again, door slamming behind him.

I stood frozen, chest tight. His words echoed: Your feelings don’t matter. Was that really how he saw me? I gripped the edge of the counter until my knuckles whitened.

“I get it! Okay? I know I was wrong but I apologized for it. You don't have to be a jerk about it!" I yelled after him to express my frustration but he was nowhere to be seen.

Rain tapped insistently at the windows. I wrapped my arms around myself, wondering how I’d let him in so completely.

Silas was cruel, something I get to understand now. He was used to everyone following his rules, having his way.

But this time,he was more cold than I have ever seen him. He wasn't flirting, throwing jokes or even talking to me without yelling.

The front door swung open again. Silas reappeared, keys in hand. He paused in the doorway,his gaze sweeping over my trembling form. “Get in,” he snapped. “We’re going to get breakfast.”

I hesitated. Breakfast? I could order my own coffee. But something in his stance ,an unspoken threat pushed me forward. I nodded and followed him outside.

The Jeep’s engine growled to life. We drove in grim silence, the only sound the wipers scraping the windshield. My throat felt dry; I swallowed hard. Finally, I forced the words out. “Why are you so angry at me? Have you decided you're tired of me?”

He didn’t answer right away. His jaw clenched. Then he spat, “Because you screw everything up.” His eyes flicked to me, cold and unforgiving. “You think you’re so special with your art and your feelings. But you can’t even follow simple rules.”

Anger flared in my chest. “You’re being unfair…”

“Unfair?” He laughed, bitter. “I saved your sorry ass last night, and this is my reward? You run off, ignore my rules, and expect me to roll out the red carpet for you?”

I trembled with anger. “I told you,I’m grateful. But I’m not a child!”

He slammed on the brakes at a red light. The Jeep shuddered. He turned to face me, his voice low and dangerous: “Then act like one who deserves trust. Stop whining and follow the only rule that matters: do what I say.”

My heart thundered. I bit my lip, fighting tears. “Fine,” I whispered. “Just tell me what to do I'll do whatever you want, since I'm your servant right now” I said sarcastically although in my heart I was cursing him.

Who the hell did he think he was to order me whenever he wanted? Apart from the fact that he's sexy and attractive but his personality is rotten. I'll just find another apartment!.

Silas’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second then hardened again. He released a low, humorless chuckle. “That’s more like it.” He shifted back into gear as the light turned green.

The rest of the drive passed in tense quiet. When he parked in front of the diner, he didn’t offer his hand, not like I expected him to,he was everything but not prince charming.. I climbed out and followed him inside.

Under the bright fluorescence, I caught my reflection ,red-rimmed eyes, pale skin, a girl beaten down by someone she trusted. I followed Silas to the booth,his quiet demeanor caught the attention of many people in the diner.

Silas slid into the booth across from me, boots scraping the floor. He folded his arms, staring me down. When the waitress arrived, he ordered black coffee and eggs his usual.

I stared at him, searching for a crack in his armor. “Will you… talk to me sometime?” I asked, voice small.

He snorted into his coffee. “Do you really want to know?” His gaze snapped back to me. “Because knowing the truth will hurt more than your precious paintings.”

I swallowed hard. “What…”

“Save it.” He slammed his palm on the table. The dishes jumped. “Some things are better left in the dark just like you.”

My heart shattered. I forced myself to nod. “I understand.”

He drained his cup, stood, and threw some bills on the table. “Good,” he said, turning toward the door. “Don’t embarrass me again.”

I watched his broad shoulders , his coat melting into the rain outside. My throat throbbed with unshed tears. The waitress hovered at my elbow.

I can't believe this is the Same person I flirted with before.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I forced a small smile. “Yes, thank you.” I managed to give her the money and slipped out into the rain.

Outside, the city felt indifferent. My art, my feelings, my very self they all seemed fragile under Silas’s cold contempt.

I pulled my coat tighter and walked home alone, footsteps echoing on wet pavement—each step a promise that I’d prove him wrong, even if he never cared enough to see it.