When you step out of the shower, the water is still clinging to your skin and, for a moment, you don’t notice anything is wrong.

Just the familiar space.

Then, standing near Aiden’s things, half in shadow, you see Cassian.

He doesn’t move, speak or even pretend to be startled for a second.

He just looks at you.

What you see in that look is not confusion, not embarrassment, not even the flicker of being caught... it’s calculation.

It's as if he's already adjusting to your presence, reworking something in his mind and deciding what you are and what to do with you.

It lasts barely a heartbeat.

Then it’s gone so smoothly that you almost doubt it happened.

His posture relaxes slightly, his shoulders dropping and his expression softening, like something more vulnerable has taken its place.

“Oh—” he says, taking a step back, “I didn’t know anyone was here… I thought it was empty.”

His eyes flick over you again, but this time it’s different. It's as if he doesn't want to look for too long, as if he's trying to be respectful.

Like he’s harmless.

But something in you doesn’t settle.

Because you saw it.

That first look.

The silence stretches just a second too long, and that’s all it takes. Cassian notices.

There’s a subtle shift in him – not as obvious as before and not something that anyone else would notice – but you do because you’re now looking for it.

His head tilts slightly. “You don’t believe me,” he whispers, and it isn’t a question.

He takes a step towards you, but you don't move quickly enough.

He closes the distance completely with his next step, and suddenly your back meets the wall.

His hands settle on your waist.

They are firm, placing you exactly where he wants you.

“You’re smart,” he murmurs, brushing his thumbs against your waist.

His eyes flick over your face, taking you in, like he’s placing every detail exactly where it belongs.

“Aiden didn’t mention you,” he adds, curling his lips.

“…you matter to him.”

The way his gaze settles back on yours afterwards makes it clear that he has already moved on from this realisation to consider what it means for him.

At first, he still looks like the same soft boy with impossibly wide, pleading eyes.

But then the corner of his mouth curls up, and all your beliefs about him suddenly crumble.

He is like a predator, and he doesn't need fangs to eat you.

He moves his hand towards your face, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. "You'd be so easy to devour, pretty bird."