On and Off the Track

S I X T Y O N E.

When we finally arrived back at his apartment, the familiar space welcomed us with a comforting warmth. The soft lighting illuminated the sleek yet cosy surroundings, and I could already feel the subtle shift from the playful banter outside to the quiet intimacy that always seemed to surround them in these moments. Charles tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and immediately kicked off his shoes, stretching his arms above his head with a satisfied sigh.

I smiled to myself as I peeled off my jacket, watching him move through the apartment with a sense of ease. There was something so effortless about the way we fit into each other's routines, like two parts of a well-oiled machine. It wasn't forced or awkward—just natural. Comfortable. I made my way to the bedroom, slipping out of my dress and replacing it with one of his oversized t-shirts. It draped loosely over my frame, and I inhaled the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the fabric. I always loved wearing his clothes; it felt like being wrapped in a part of him. As I brushed my hair in front of the mirror, I could hear him moving around in the bathroom, the sound of water running as he brushed his teeth. The small, everyday sounds of life. I couldn't help but pause for a moment, letting myself take in the quiet harmony between us. It was in these simple moments—getting ready for bed, talking about nothing and everything, that I felt our connection most clearly. There was no rush, no pressure. Just the steady rhythm of two people who had found a natural flow together. Charles emerged from the bathroom, running a hand through his hair, now freshly tousled from washing his face. He gave me a small smile as he passed by, brushing his hand gently against my back in a brief but tender touch as he made his way to the bed. He climbed in and lay back against the pillows, his gaze flickering over to me with that same familiar fondness I had grown so accustomed to.
"You're wearing my shirt again," he observed, his voice teasing but soft. I glanced down at the oversized fabric hanging loosely on me.
"What can I say? You have better taste in clothes than me." Charles chuckled, resting his arm behind his head.
"Or you just like stealing my stuff."
"That too," I admitted with a grin, crawling into bed beside him. I nestled against him, my head resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. For a few moments, there was only the sound of the soft night breeze through the window and the faint hum of the city outside. I closed her eyes, feeling utterly at peace. I felt Charles' hand gently trace small patterns on my back, his touch soothing and unhurried.
"It's nice, you know," he said quietly, his voice low and reflective.
"What is?" I asked, her eyes still closed.
"Us," he murmured, his hand still moving slowly. "Just... this. Being together like this. It feels right." I opened my eyes and glanced up at him, seeing the sincerity in his gaze.
"It does," I agreed softly. I felt it too, in every unspoken moment between us. As we lay there, wrapped up in each other, I couldn't help but think about how far we had come. From the whirlwind of excitement and nerves when we first started seeing each other to the calm, steady rhythm of life we had now built together. I had never imagined it would feel so simple, so effortless to be with someone. But here I was, in his arms, and everything just fit. As I settled into the warmth of the bed, my head resting on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat began to lull me into a soft, drowsy state. I felt safe here, wrapped in the comfort of his presence, the day's events starting to fade into the background. Just as my eyes fluttered shut, I reached for her phone, intending to check it one last time before letting sleep claim me. As soon as the screen lit up, notifications flooded in. I scrolled through Instagram and saw a stream of posts and tagged photos from our day on the boat, and then at the restaurant that evening. Comments filled the feed—speculations, excitement, curiosity. I had always kept my relationship with Charles private, and we hadn't officially confirmed anything to the public. But now, with these pictures circulating, it felt like our private world was teetering on the edge of being exposed. I hesitated, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. Quietly, I shifted in Charles' arms, turning the phone toward him.
"Have you seen this?" I asked softly. Charles opened his eyes lazily, glancing at the screen. His brows furrowed slightly before a small sigh escaped him.