ON GOING
18-year-old Aaliyah Leone Moretti
is the epitome of innocence and sweetness, she remains a timid girl, perpetually lingering in the shadows of her own existence. Her days are filled with daydreams, a refuge from her reality, that she prefe...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It had been two weeks since the panic attack. My parents thought it was best for me to stay home and rest, and honestly, I needed it. I missed classes, but it was a break I couldn't deny I needed. Mila had come over a few times, filling me in on all the latest school gossip while I updated her on everything that had happened—
Jonathan. The mere thought of him sent a rush of emotions through me. Ever since the hospital, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about him, about the way his hand had lingered on my cheek, the tenderness in his touch. I knew it shouldn't mean anything—but still, something about that moment felt so intimate. I couldn't shake.
I sat at the kitchen table, absently stirring my tea as I tried to calm my nerves. My mom was across from me, finishing her toast and eyeing me with that familiar worried look.
"How are you feeling about going back to tutoring today?" she asked, her voice soft but probing.
I kept my eyes on my tea. "I'm a little nervous," I admitted, unsure of how much to say. "It's been two weeks, and I feel like I've missed so much. I don't want to fall behind."
Mom smiled, trying to be reassuring. "You'll catch up. Mr.De Luca is a great tutor, he'll make sure you're back on track."
I nodded but didn't say anything. She had no idea about the real reason I was nervous. She didn't know that every time I thought about seeing Jonathan, my stomach flipped in ways it shouldn't. And yet, I couldn't stop.
"Don't worry yourself too much, sweetheart," my mom said, patting my hand. "Take it one step at a time, okay?"
I forced a small smile. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Mom."
She checked the time and stood up, grabbing her bag. "I have to get to work. You'll be alright today?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine," I replied, trying to sound confident. As she kissed my forehead and headed out the door, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.
Once she was gone, I grabbed my purse and left the house, making my way to Jonathan's office. The closer I got, the more my nerves kicked in.
For two weeks, I had replayed that hospital moment in my head over and over, wondering if it meant something, or if I had just imagined it. Did he feel anything for me? Or was he just being kind?
I stopped outside his office, taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. Hearing his voice call out for me to come in made my heart race. I had no idea what I was walking into.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside. Jonathan was sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair, looking as polished as ever. He was dressed in all black attire—and it clung to him in a way that made it hard not to notice the way his muscles stretched against the fabric. His sleeves were rolled up just enough to show the strength in his forearms, and I felt a lump form in my throat. He looked... intense.
