I'll wait for you (Dayasco)

The pool

-TW talks of SA-

In the tranquil quiet of Daya's apartment, I couldn't contain my excitement any longer. "Daya, you have a pool?" I exclaimed, my voice beamed with delight.

He looked up from the couch, his blue eyes meeting mine. "Yeah, it's on the top floor," he replied, a hint of reluctance in his tone. "But I don't really like swimming."

A shadow of concern crossed my face. "Why not? You love water."

"I just don't like how my body looks," he confessed softly. "And I hate so much of it being out, I only like you seeing it."

My heart melted with understanding. Daya had endured awful traumas in his past, leaving him with scars both physical and emotional. I would never force him to do something that made him uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, love," I reassured him. "We can just go up there and relax. No need to take your shirt off or get in the water if you don't want to."

A faint glimmer of relief passed over his face. We changed into our swimwear and made our way to the rooftop pool. To our delight, it was deserted.

Daya immersed himself in the cool water, his muscles rippling beneath the surface as he splashed and chased after a ball I threw for him. I watched him fondly, admiring his childlike joy.

As the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, casting golden rays upon the water, a couple of girls approached the pool. I noticed their appreciative glances directed at Daya. He, too, seemed to sense their attention and emerged from the water. And came back over to me, like I was his security blanket.

Without hesitation, he leaned over and kissed me passionately, a clear demonstration that he was taken. "Was that okay?" he whispered, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

"It was more than okay," I beamed back at him, making him smile.

We settled down on sun loungers, our bodies warm and relaxed. A sense of contentment enveloped us as we basked in the hot sun.

However, our peace was shattered by the insistent ringing of my phone. It was Irene, my sister, a woman most known for her stoic nature. But this time, her voice was laden with anguish.

"Bosco, please can I come,"she sobbed. "I need to see you."

Concern washed over me like a cold wave. "Irene What's wrong? What's happened?" I asked urgently.

"I'll explain when i get there," she replied, her voice trembling.

Daya sensed our unease and suggested we head back downstairs to await Irene's arrival. As we raced down the stairs, my mind raced with countless possibilities. Had something terrible happened to Irene? Was I a terrible sister for not being there for her?

When she finally arrived at Daya's apartment her knock on the door was so faint we hardly heard it, her face was streaked with tears. She collapsed down onto Daya's couch, her full body shaking.

"What is it, Irene? What's happened?" I asked, my voice thick with worry.

As Irene's sobs gradually subsided into trembling breaths, her tear-stained eyes met mine. Her grip on my hand tightened, seeking solace in the warmth of my touch. With Daya shuffling uneasily beside us, Irene began to recount the horrors of what she had endured.

"It started off so well," she whispered, her voice thick with anguish. "I met him on that dating app, and everything seemed perfect." Her words painted a vivid picture of a promising connection that had turned into a nightmare.

"I invited him back to my place, and it was going really well," Irene continued. "But then, out of nowhere, he attacked me."

A wave of anger and helplessness washed over me as I listened to her story. I wanted to lash out at the man who had violated her, to protect my sister from further harm. But all I could do was hold her hand and offer my unwavering support.