When She Gets Burned

No Return Part 2

"New address, miss?" the cab driver inquired, glancing at her through the rear-view mirror.

"Yeah, change it to 327 Oakwood Street," Alani replied, her voice steady but her mind restless.

Owen arched an eyebrow. "Oakwood Street? Isn't that—"

"None of your business," Alani snapped, a sudden defensiveness taking hold. "Just drop me off there, please?"

Owen sighed, realizing he had struck a nerve. "Alright, alright. Just checking. You've been spending a lot of time at his place lately, that's all."

Alani felt the tension between them, her emotions bubbling beneath the surface. "Well, maybe I like spending time there. Is that such a crime?"

Owen raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, I'm just looking out for you. You barely go home anymore. Does he even let you?"

Alani's eyes flashed with irritation. "Don't make assumptions about Ezra. He's not some controlling monster. Just because he's older doesn't mean he's overpowering. You don't know him like I do."

Owen leaned back, sensing her frustration. "Okay, okay, I get it. I'll drop it. Just be safe, alright? If you need anything, call me."

As the cab pulled up to Owen's stop, he gave Alani a half-smile. "Take care, dreamer. Get to Ezra's safe."

She forced a smile, "I will. See you around, Owen."

Alani watched as Owen disappeared into the night, the cab pulling away toward Oakwood Street. The city's glow illuminated her face, revealing a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Tonight held the promise of both familiarity and uncertainty, and as the cab approached its destination, Alani couldn't shake the feeling that she was hurtling into a realm where lines blurred, and the consequences of her choices were becoming increasingly unclear. Ezra's apartment cast a warm glow over the scattered papers and half-empty bottles. Alani stepped into Ezra's sanctuary, the scent of old books and whiskey enveloping her senses. There he lay, sprawled on the sofa like a literary recluse, immersed in the shadows of his thoughts. She approached him with a quiet reverence, drawn to the enchanting chaos of his existence. He didn't acknowledge her arrival, lost in the labyrinth of his own musings. Alani smiled to herself, finding a peculiar beauty in his detachment.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice a delicate thread in the hushed atmosphere.

Ezra's eyes shifted to her, a smile breaking through the intellectual fog. "Hey," he echoed, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand stories.

Alani eased herself onto his lap, the worn fabric of the sofa yielding to her presence. Their smiles danced in tandem, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection that tied them together. As the conversation unfolded, Alani found herself navigating the labyrinth of their emotions. Each word spoken was a tentative step into the depths of understanding, a journey into the intricacies of their entangled lives.

"It's funny," she mused, her fingers tracing patterns on his shirt. "I could never describe us to anyone. They wouldn't get it."

Ezra arched an eyebrow, his gaze probing. "Is it the age difference?" he ventured.

Alani shook her head, her laughter a soft melody in the room. "No, it's not that. It's something else, something intangible. I can't put my finger on it."

Ezra's eyes held a mixture of curiosity and contemplation. The air between them crackled with the unspoken, the space where words faltered, and emotions lingered in the gaps. "Do you regret being with me?" he asked, his voice carrying the weight of uncertainty.