In Sync - ReynaBooks (short story)

Chapter 7 - Something real

I woke up to the soft glow of dawn filtering through the thin curtains, casting a gentle light across the room. My hair was tangled and wild, a reminder of the torrid night we had spent together. Lena's arm was draped over my waist, her warmth seeping into me even in sleep. The steady rise and fall of her chest was comforting, almost hypnotic.

I turned carefully to face her, not wanting to disturb the delicate peace of the morning. Her makeup, once flawless, was now smudged and faded, the dark lines around her eyes a testament to the night's passion. Her lips were slightly parted, and I could still taste the memory of her kiss, lingering sweetly on my own. The sheets were tangled around our legs, a chaotic mess that mirrored the intensity of what we'd shared.

I could not stop thinking about how yesterday was surreal. When she had looked at me from the stage, our eyes locking across the crowd, it had felt as if we were the only two people in the world. That connection that had carried us through the night..

A small part of me wondered if anyone nearby had heard us, if the sounds of our connection had carried through the thin walls. Was this normal for musicians, to make love to strangers they barely knew? Was I just another fleeting encounter for her, or did last night mean as much to her as it did to me?

As these thoughts swirled in my mind, I found myself studying her face, searching for some clue, some sign that might answer the questions that plagued me. Her brow furrowed slightly in her sleep, as if she were dreaming of something far away, something I couldn't reach. I wanted to smooth it out, to chase away whatever troubled her, but I hesitated, afraid to break the fragile moment we were in.

The clock ticked on, reminding me that time was not on our side. My next personal appointment was scheduled for the afternoon, and I needed to prepare, to pull myself together and face the world outside this small cocoon we had created. I didn't want to leave—not at all—but I knew I had to.

I closed my eyes, trying to hold on to the feeling of her next to me, to memorize the way her skin felt against mine, the scent of her hair, the sound of her breathing. The lanterns, the music, the way she had looked at me as if I were the only person who mattered – it all came rushing back, a flood of memories that made my heart ache with a bittersweet longing. I knew that whatever happened next, whether we saw each other again or if this was the end, I would carry this night with me always. It was etched into my soul, a beautiful scar that I would never regret.

With a heavy heart, I gently lifted Lena's arm from my waist, trying not to disturb her. She let out a sleepy, grumpy groan, her face scrunching up in protest as I slipped out of bed. I began to gather my things, moving quietly as I dressed, trying to delay the inevitable moment of departure for as long as possible.

As I fastened the last button on my shirt, I heard a soft rustling behind me. Turning, I saw Lena blinking up at me, her eyes still heavy with sleep but filled with a gentle warmth.

"You're leaving?" Lena's voice, husky and laced with disappointment, sliced through the quiet morning air.

I hesitated, my fingers lingering on the edge of my shirt, reluctant to confirm what we both already knew. "I have to," I replied softly, each word tinged with regret. "I have a meeting this afternoon, and I need to get ready."

Lena pushed herself up on one elbow, her hair a tousled mess from the night we had shared, yet she looked impossibly beautiful in the morning light. Her eyes, dark with a mix of emotions, searched mine, as if she were trying to find something—anything—that would make me stay, some reason to hold on to what we had for just a little longer.

"I don't want you to go," she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper, the words hanging in the air between us like a fragile thread.

Her confession sent a sharp pang through my chest, the ache of it almost physical. I had to resist the overwhelming urge to crawl back into bed, to lose myself in her warmth and forget about the world outside this room. But I knew that staying wouldn't change the reality of our situation, that our lives existed in two different worlds, and the magic of the night we'd shared couldn't bridge that gap.