Grey Blood - Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Angelina followed Damien up the grand staircase, her feet hesitant against the marble steps. The house was too big, too quiet, too unfamiliar.
She felt small inside of it.
As if she didn't belong.
Damien walked ahead of her, his pace slow, careful—as if making sure she wouldn't trip. Every few steps, he glanced over his shoulder at her, his brows slightly furrowed.
"This is your room," he said, stopping in front of a large wooden door. He pushed it open, revealing a space that looked too perfect to touch.
Angelina stepped inside slowly.
Her heart hammered in her chest.
It was... huge.
A bed too soft to be real. A bookshelf lined with books. A window that overlooked the garden below.
Everything about it screamed luxury.
It didn't feel like hers.
She didn't know how to exist in a place like this.
Damien, still standing in the doorway, cleared his throat.
"There's extra blankets in the closet," he said. "The pillows are good, but if they're too firm, we can get you softer ones. And if it's too cold, just tell me—I'll adjust the heat."
Angelina blinked, surprised.
She wasn't used to anyone checking in on her.
She turned to look at him.
Damien's dark eyes were serious, yet warm. Protective in a way that felt different from the others.
"I put a water bottle by the bed," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't know if you'd be thirsty."
Angelina didn't know how to respond to that.
No one had ever thought about things like that for her before.
She wasn't sure if she could handle it.
So she just nodded.
Damien exhaled, studying her for a moment longer before sighing.
"Try to get some sleep, okay?" His voice was gentle—the kind of gentle that didn't feel forced.
Angelina nodded again.
She wasn't sure if she'd be able to sleep, but she didn't argue.
Damien hesitated, his hand lingering on the doorframe.
"If you need anything," he added, voice softer now, "my room's across the hall."
And with that, he finally left, the door clicking shut behind him.
Silence.
Angelina sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets between her fingers.
She had no idea what to do with this.
With the care.
With the warmth.
With the kindness.
And she had no idea if she would ever be able to get used to it.
She sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets between her fingers.
Her thoughts wouldn't stop.
Her body felt too tense, too aware.
She didn't—
A knock at the door.
Angelina flinched.
"Ange?"
Jace.
She hesitated before standing up, walking to the door, and slowly pulling it open.
Jace leaned against the frame, hands tucked into his pockets. "Can't sleep?"
Angelina shook her head.
Jace smirked. "Yeah. Figured. First nights are always weird."
Angelina tilted her head slightly. "First nights?"
Jace shrugged. "First night in a new place. It's always a little... disorienting."
She wouldn't know.
She had never been in a "new place" before.
Jace must have sensed her thoughts because his smirk faded slightly.
"Wanna walk around for a bit?" he asked.
Angelina hesitated.
But something about Jace's energy was easy. Light.
So she nodded.
Jace grinned. "Come on. Let's give you the unofficial tour."
The Mansion at Midnight
Jace led her through the dimly lit hallways, his footsteps casual, unhurried.
"The kitchen's down there," he said, pointing. "If you ever need a midnight snack, that's the place to go. Just don't let Elias catch you—he hates crumbs."
Angelina blinked. "Crumbs?"
Jace nodded, grinning. "He's kind of a neat freak. He'd probably disown me if he saw my room."
Angelina's lips twitched.
Not quite a smile.
But close.
Jace noticed.
His grin softened.
"Ah," he mused, "so you can smile."
Angelina's expression immediately fell back into neutrality.
Jace chuckled. "Damn. That was short-lived."
They kept walking.
The mansion was beautiful, but Angelina felt out of place. Like a guest. Like she would wake up and find herself back in that small, suffocating house with her aunt and uncle.
Jace must have sensed her unease because his voice lowered slightly.
"You don't have to be afraid here, you know."
Angelina stiffened.
Jace shoved his hands into his pockets, watching her carefully.
"No one's gonna hurt you," he said, serious for the first time. "No one's gonna yell at you for just... existing."
Angelina froze.
Because—
How did he know?
How did he know that was exactly how she felt?
Jace gave her a lopsided grin, but it was softer now. "We're all a little messed up, Ange. But we're not them. Okay?"
Angelina swallowed.
Her chest felt tight.
But—
For some reason—
She believed him.
Even if it was just a little.
Even if it was just for tonight.
Eventually, Jace led her to the library.
It was massive—walls lined with bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling.
Angelina's breath caught.
Jace noticed.
"You like it?"
She nodded slowly.
Jace smirked. "Yeah. Figured you would. You seem like the 'quiet bookworm' type."
Angelina ran her fingers along the book spines.
She had never been surrounded by so many books before.
Her chest ached.
Jace sat on one of the couches, stretching his arms behind his head.
"You can take any book you want," he said. "Leo won't care. He's the one who hoards them anyway."
Angelina hesitated.
She wasn't used to things being offered so freely.
Jace's smirk softened again. "Seriously, Ange. You don't have to ask for permission here. If you want something, just take it."
Angelina clenched her fingers into her sleeves.
She wasn't sure if she knew how.
After a while, Jace walked her back to her room.
She stood in the doorway, looking at him.
"...Thanks," she murmured.
Jace grinned. "For what?"
She hesitated.
For the walk. For the conversation. For treating her like a person instead of a stranger.
"For everything," she whispered.
Jace's grin faltered for half a second.
Then—
He ruffled her hair.
"Get some sleep, Ange."
And with that, he walked away.
Angelina stepped into her room, closing the door behind her.
The mansion was still too big.
The room was still too perfect.
But for the first time—
It didn't feel so cold.