Elara spun around at the sound of the voice, nearly losing her grip on the bulky box in her arms.
The interruption stood casually a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. A boy; Golden hair kissed by sunlight, a grin so effortless it looked like it was sculpted by Gods, and eyes… those brilliant emerald eyes that looked like they could see right through her.
She blinked, once, twice, realizing too late that she was staring.The slack-jawed, borderline-drooling kind of staring. Her mouth was slightly open. He probably thought she was weird.
He tilted his head, amusement dancing behind his lashes as he studied her.
"You okay there?" he asked again, a note of teasing slipping into his thick French accent.
Elara flushed, heat blooming across her cheeks. She jerked her head in a frantic nod.
"U-uhm no—I mean, yes—I'm okay," she stammered, her voice cracking slightly at the end.
She shook her head, trying to knock herself back into her senses.
Smooth. Real smooth.
The boy raised a golden eyebrow, glancing at the oversized box that looked like it would crush her.
"You sure about that?" he asked, a chuckle rising in his throat.
"Yeah...complete...ly…" she tried to smile, her arms trembling as she tried to adjust her grip,
"…fine." The last word came out as more of a gasp as the box began to tip forward.
She scrambled to steady it, and for a moment, it looked like it might win the battle.
And then he stepped in.
With one hand, he caught the box, steadying it easily like it weighed nothing. She blinked, stunned by how close he was now. He was so close she could smell the mint and woodsy shampoo he probably used.
Like a stalker
She shook her head violently, mentally lecturing herself.
"Let me help," he said, already sliding the box out of her arms before she could protest.
"No, it's okay, really—I've got it," she insisted, reaching for it.
"Doesn't look like you got it, to be honest" He said as he effortlessly placed the box on his shoulders and began walking towards the elevator.
Elara stood there, flustered, betrayed by her own limbs for not being cooler. She picked up a smaller box and rushed after him, her pace trying to match his own.
He pressed the call button, summoning the elevator as he hummed a little tune under his breath. A silence stretched between them—comfortable for him, agonizing for her.
"Moving in?" he asked casually, his gaze on the elevator door.
"Uh, yeah," she replied, quietly. Her face hidden behind the box she was carrying.
He nodded, clearly unsurprised. The silence stretched for a moment before he met her gaze, a grin on his face.
"I'm Nathan, by the way. Nathan Blake"He said.
His name fit him.
"Elara," she said quietly, still trying to make herself seem small.
"Elara," he repeated, trying it out. It rolled off his tongue far too easily. "Pretty name"
Before she could respond, the doors dinged open, and he stepped inside first, holding the box effortlessly.
She followed, still baffled at the turn her afternoon had taken. He set the box down carefully and turned back to her, hands in his pockets again.
"So, Elara," he said, "what floor are we heading to?"
"Second. ," she muttered, eyes flicking away from his face. "Room 207"
He pressed the button, the doors sliding closed with a soft whoosh.
For a moment, all she could hear was the hum of the lift and her own heartbeat. She snuck a glance at him.
He caught her looking and she just smiled muttering cute under his breath
Elara looked away, cheeks blazing. Maybe she was doomed. She cleared her throat and turned to face him.
"How do you know English so well" She asked, desperately trying to divert the attention from her flushed cheeks.
"My dad's American" He said with a smile, leaning on the railing.
Elara nodded, trying not to drown in his eyes. She barely noticed the way her gaze lingered until he let out a soft chuckle, amused by her dazed state.
"So, why Alès, Elara?" he asked, his voice teasing.
"It's a small town. My parents grew up here," she replied, her voice quiet as she inched closer to the wall—half hoping it would crack open and swallow her.
"Oh, so you're French?" His eyes lit up, his voice rising with excitement.
"Oh no, no-no-no. Not French. My family's American. They just… happened to grow up here." She gave a sheepish smile as he nodded in understanding.
The elevator dinged, saving her from having to say anything else stupid and the door opened, welcoming them into the open world.
"Room 207," he announced, lifting the box like it weighed nothing and strolling out.
Elara followed, gripping her own box a little tighter, trying to keep up with his long strides. They reached the room without a hitch. She blinked, surprised.
"Wait—how'd you know where my room was?" she asked, confused.
"I live here. Down the hall," he said, voice suddenly softer.
"Oh, so you work for th—"
"The Castelos?,Yeah I do." He smiled, cutting her off smoothly. "I'm guessing you do too?"
She nodded, "I just started." she said quietly
"And you're staying in their daughter's apartment because...?" he asked quietly as he stared at her, leaning on the wall besides the door.
She nodded" Mandy?she's my best friend" she said with a smile.
"you know her?" Elara asked to which Nathan responded with a simple nod.
She stared at him for a second, the pieces finally clicking into place. She stared at him before something dawned on her.
"Crap," she muttered, slapping her forehead. "I forgot to ask Mandy for the keys."
Nathan just laughed, a low sound that made her skin warm.
"This building's so secure they don't even bother locking the rooms half the time. If you're lucky, it might already be open."
She stared at him, torn between horror and hope. "That sounds wildly unsafe."
He grinned. "Welcome to Alès, Elara."
She stared at him quietly, the warmth returning to her cheeks.
"Welcome to Alès" she muttered to herself.