Silent Circle: The Vow of an Heir

Chapter 11: Connection at the Hospital

In the small, sterile room, the young police officer recorded every detail of Darian's statement. Darian told everything honestly: how he witnessed the accident, how he saved the young woman from the burning car.

He emphasized his first-aid skills but carefully avoided details that might reveal his other abilities. He was just a young man who happened to be at the scene and acted on human instinct.

After giving his statement, Darian felt exhausted, both physically and mentally. He sat back down in the waiting chair, his mind still filled with the image of the young woman’s face.

Suddenly, Dr. Anita approached him, her expression friendly.

“Mr. Darian, right?” Darian nodded. “I’ve contacted the victim’s family. They’re very grateful for your help. They’ll be here as soon as possible.”

Dr. Anita smiled sympathetically. “You look tired. How about we grab a coffee together in the cafeteria? My treat.” Her voice was soft, full of warmth.

For some reason, Dr. Anita suddenly invited Darian to have coffee with her. It was rare for her to invite a man, especially one she had just met.

Maybe there was something about Darian that made her want to get closer, or maybe it was just her genuine humanity that compelled her to comfort a man who looked so weary.

Yet, there was something in her eyes—a hidden loneliness behind her friendly smile. Darian accepted the offer. He needed a break, and perhaps, a comforting conversation.

In the quiet hospital cafeteria, amidst the smell of coffee and hospital food, Darian and Dr. Anita chatted.

Dr. Anita talked about her work, the joy she felt when she could help her patients, as well as the pain that often accompanied her struggles as a doctor.

She also shared about her loneliness, about how her life felt empty. Darian listened attentively, occasionally offering comments and support.

Between cups of coffee and flowing conversation, a connection began to form between them.

Dr. Anita stirred her coffee slowly, her eyes gazing softly at Darian. "You said... you’re from the mountains and don’t have a permanent place to stay here in Javaris City," she said, her voice quiet.

She paused for a moment as if carefully considering her words before continuing, "How about you... join me for a while tonight at my apartment? I’d like to talk more. It feels like our conversation flows so naturally."

Deep down, Dr. Anita herself felt a little surprised. Why am I inviting him? she thought. This wasn’t like her. Usually, she kept her distance, especially from someone she had just met.

But there was something about Darian that made her feel comfortable as if there was an invisible bond pulling her closer.

Maybe it was the way he listened so attentively, or maybe it was his honest and calm eyes. Whatever it was, she couldn’t resist the desire to get to know him better.

She finished her sentence with a soft, slightly nervous smile, but there was a clear sincerity in it. That smile brought a warm feeling to the air, and in an instant, the atmosphere in the room felt more intimate.

There was a brief pause, only the sound of the spoon clinking against the cup filling the silence. Their gazes remained locked, the air between them thick with unspoken words.

The faint aroma of coffee mixed with the tension that was slowly building. Dr. Anita waited for Darian’s answer, but her heart was beating faster than usual, a nervousness only she could feel.

With a softer smile, Darian returned Dr. Anita’s gaze. His clear, deep brown eyes radiated sincerity, almost like a mirror revealing more than he intended to show.

"Aren’t you afraid of me...?" he asked in a quiet yet deep voice, hiding a bigger question behind his words. He tilted his head slightly as if inviting Dr. Anita to reveal what was truly in her heart and mind.

The tension between them felt almost tangible, a dance between attraction and hesitation, between hope and doubt.

Darian knew his answer would determine the direction of their conversation—and perhaps, the direction of their relationship.

Dr. Anita stayed silent for a moment her eyes still fixed on Darian. In her gaze, there was a faint confusion, but also a deeper curiosity. She exhaled softly as if searching for the right words.

"No," she finally answered, her voice gentle but firm. "I’m... not afraid of you. Maybe more curious, or intrigued... I don’t think you’re someone to be afraid of."

With those words, something warm blossomed between them, as if a bridge had been built between lingering doubts and faint hopes.

Dr. Anita smiled again, this time more freely, more confidently. And Darian, with the same smile, felt a little lighter—as if the heavy emotions from earlier were beginning to melt away, replaced by a warmer feeling.

They gazed at each other, momentarily at a loss for words. In that small space, there was only a flowing calm between them, an understanding that needed no further explanation.

That night, in Dr. Anita’s apartment, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the soft scent of red wine, filling the air.

The dim glow of table lamps, with their warm golden light, illuminated the room, creating a soothing and intimate atmosphere.

The gentle strains of classical music, a passionate piano sonata by Chopin, played softly from the music player in the corner, its rhythm seemingly in sync with their quickening heartbeats.

Books were neatly arranged on dark wooden shelves, mostly medical texts with worn covers that hinted at countless hours spent reading, alongside a few classic novels with intriguing titles, reflecting Dr. Anita’s intelligent, cultured, and mysterious personality.

Darian and Dr. Anita sat close together on a comfortable dark green velvet sofa.

A half-full glass of red wine, its contents shimmering under the lamplight, rested on the small table between them.

Dr. Anita, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the joy of the moment, looked at Darian with a meaningful gaze.

Her hair, loosely cascading over her shoulders, revealed a hidden feminine side beneath her professional demeanor as a doctor.

She had finished most of the bottle of wine, the strong aroma of the drink blending with her soft, slightly sweet perfume.

They shared stories about their lives, their voices mingling with the music. Darian spoke of his childhood in the cold mountains, the rigorous martial arts training that shaped his strong and sturdy physique, the sweat and pain he had endured, and the loss of Eyang Surya, his voice trembling as he recalled the cherished memories of his grandfather.

Dr. Anita listened intently, her fingers occasionally brushing against her wine glass, her beautiful eyes glistening with empathy and understanding.

She felt the warmth of Darian’s body drawing closer, his strong, calming masculine scent enveloping her.

She spoke about her work as a doctor, the deep satisfaction of saving lives, and the inevitable pain of facing death.

Her voice sometimes dropped to a whisper, revealing the fragile side behind her strong personality.

She also shared about the loneliness she often felt, her voice slightly faltering, exposing the vulnerability she usually kept hidden.

Between laughter and tears, the accidental brush of their hands, lingering meaningful gazes, and the mingling of their scents, a strong bond formed between them—a bond that transcended age and background, driven by shared experiences of loss and a longing for deep connection.

After hours of conversation, the atmosphere in the apartment shifted. A comfortable silence enveloped them, accompanied only by the soft strains of music that seemed to whisper of unspoken desires.

Their eyes met, longer than usual, filled with an unspoken intensity. In Dr. Anita’s glistening eyes, Darian saw hesitation mixed with burning desire, a flame ready to ignite.

In Darian’s dark, deep eyes, she saw a depth and sincerity that captivated her, an honesty she rarely encountered.

Dr. Anita reached out her hand, her soft, delicate fingers touching Darian’s. Her touch was light, but it sent a shiver through Darian’s entire body, an electric current flowing between them.

He returned the touch, his strong, warm fingers responding to hers, feeling the softness and warmth of her fragrant skin.

“I… I haven’t felt something like this in a long time,” Dr. Anita whispered, her voice slightly trembling. Yet, beneath her hesitation, there was a strong desire, a longing that had been buried for far too long.

She looked down slightly, nervously playing with her wine glass with her other hand, her movements awkward yet charming.

Darian leaned closer to Dr. Anita’s face, inhaling the soft, intoxicating scent of her perfume—a blend of lavender and vanilla that was both soothing and arousing.