Only for You

6: This Thing Called Life

Zac plops down on the bed beside Fatima, both of them panting. "Damn," he mutters, still catching his breath.

"Yeah..." Fatima agrees, nodding as she tries to steady herself. For a moment, they lay there in silence, their breathing gradually calming down.

"Okay," Fatima says softly, signaling the end of their encounter as she begins to get up.

But before she can fully leave the bed, Zac grabs her wrist and gently pulls her back. "Zac," she scolds, her voice firm. "Stay here. Why the rush?" he asks, a hint of confusion in his tone.

She sighs, pointing between the two of them. "See this? It's not happening. I'm not doing this... I don't pillow talk," she says, her voice stern, drawing a clear line between them.

Zac frowns but respects her decision, letting her go. Fatima rises from the bed, wrapping a sheet around her body. "May I take a shower?" she asks, her voice more composed now.

He nods, sitting up against the headboard. "Yeah," he replies.

Fatima gathers her clothes and heads to the
bathroom, leaving Zac to sit in the aftermath of what just happened. He runs his hand down his face, sighing deeply, before getting up and slipping on his trunks.

After about 30 minutes, Fatima emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered, her hair up in a bun. The room is now tidied up, the bedsheets have been changed, but Zac is nowhere in sight. She steps out into the living area and sees him in the kitchen, sipping a drink.

"I'm gonna leave now," she says, grabbing her bag off the coffee table.

"Okay," he nods, not pushing the moment any further.

"This never happened," Fatima states, her tone serious.

He nods again, a small smile playing on his lips. "Got it."

She hesitates for a moment, the weight of their encounter still lingering in the air. "Okay..." she trails off, opening the door and stepping out, leaving Zac standing there, drink in hand, watching her leave.

Fatima closes the door behind her and slings her bag over her shoulder as she orders an Uber on her phone. As she approaches the elevator, the doors open with a soft ding. A young woman steps out, her vibrant curly hair bouncing slightly as she moves. She's dressed in a fitted black dress, radiating confidence.

Fatima offers her a polite smile, and the woman's face lights up in recognition. "Oh my god! You're Fatima Wilson!" she exclaims.

"Guilty," Fatima replies with a small nod.

The woman smiles wide. "Kiara. I'm a huge fan! You just designed that stunning collection for the fall season!"

"Guilty again," Fatima says, her smile widening.

"I'm a model, and I'd love to work with you someday," Kiara adds, excitement bubbling in her voice.

"Of course. I'm actually working on some new stuff. Come by my place sometime; give me a call and we'll set something up," Fatima replies, reaching into her bag to hand over a business card.

"Oh my god! This is insane! Thank you so much," Kiara beams, clutching the card like a prized possession.

"Nice meeting you," Fatima says, stepping into the elevator.

Kiara, still buzzing with excitement, turns to walk down the hallway, her smile uncontainable as Fatima watches the doors close.
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Zac places his glass into the sink, his thoughts still swirling around the intense interaction he just had with Fatima. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling the tension there, when he hears a knock on the door. His eyebrows knit together in confusion. Did Fatima forget something?