I stepped out of the back door, finally free from the suffocating air of the hotel. I was exhausted, ready to slip away into the quiet of my car, when I saw him—Marcus. He leaned against the side of my car, his arms crossed and his face twisted into that familiar expression, half a smirk, half an accusation.
“Isabelle,” he started, his voice oozing that same toxic charm that used to pull me in. “We need to talk.”
I clenched my jaw, holding my ground. “There’s nothing left to say, Marcus.”
But he didn’t budge. Instead, he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “Come on, Belle. You don’t mean that.” His voice dropped, that soft tone he used when he wanted something. “I know you. You need me.”
Every alarm bell in my mind went off. He didn’t know me. Not the real me. “I actually… I have plans tonight,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady.
He snorted, looking me up and down with a mocking tilt of his head. “With who?”
I froze, my mind scrambling for a name, any name. And then, as if on cue, I felt an arm slide around my waist.
“With me,” Louis said, his voice steady and sure. He pulled me in close, his presence radiating calm strength. I could feel Marcus tense, his grip tightening on my wrist.
Marcus scowled, clenching his jaw. “Let her go.”
Louis’s eyes darkened, and before I knew it, he punched Marcus, sending him stumbling back. “Come on,” he whispered, taking my hand and pulling me along as we broke into a run, leaving Marcus behind.
We ran until we spotted a bar just down the block, neon lights casting a soft glow on the sidewalk. “Let’s go in,” he suggested, breathless. I nodded, grateful for the chance to catch my breath and say thank you.
Inside, Louis spoke quietly to the bartender, who nodded and gestured for us to sit in a dimly lit corner, leaving us alone in the bar. Once we were settled, Louis looked at me, a mix of concern and curiosity in his eyes. “So, do you want to tell me who that guy was?”
I swallowed hard, looking down at my hands. “He’s… my ex. Marcus. He had me twisted around for too long. I just… I couldn’t leave.”
Louis nodded, his expression softening. “You deserve better than that. You deserve someone who’ll see you for who you are.”
A warmth spread through me, and I managed a small smile. “Thank you. Really.”
He looked at me, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I have an idea. How about you sing for me? As a thank you?”
I shook my head, laughing nervously. “I don’t sing.”
“Now I know that’s a lie,” he teased, leaning closer. “You’re too talented to hide that voice.”
“I’m not talented,” I whispered, but he gave me a look that said he didn’t believe me for a second.
“Impossible” he asked, his voice soft, as if he were trying to unlock a secret.
"You don't know me Louis..." I looked at him, the words slipping out.
"Then who are you? Tell me" he sad with a weird spark in his eyes.
“Just… Isabelle.”
He smiled, as if that was all he needed to hear. “That suits you,” he murmured, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from my face, his fingers lingering a moment longer than they needed to.
I hesitated, then spoke. “How do you do it, Louis? Pour yourself into your music like that? And share it with the whole wide world”
In response, he reached out his hand, his gaze steady. “Give me your hand.”
I placed my hand in his, and he held it gently, looking at me with a tenderness that made my heart race. And then, he started to sing, his voice soft and clear, as if the words were meant only for me.
“Beautiful, you are,
With a heart that you hide,
A voice buried deep,
In a world you survive...”
His voice wrapped around me, each note filled with a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. As the song faded, he picked up a guitar from the side of the booth, strumming a basic rhythm, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Come on,” he coaxed, nodding to me with an encouraging smile. “It’s just you and me here.”
I shook my head, but he leaned in closer, playfully adding lyrics.
“You’ve got that spark,
Hidden in your eyes,
Don’t let it fade,
Don’t say goodbye...”
I laughed despite myself, softly joining in on the final line. As the last chord faded, we both looked at each other, caught in a moment that felt fragile and perfect. Before I could think, he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, hesitant kiss that deepened, pulling me in until we were both breathless.
He gently caressed the back of my head, holding me close as he whispered, “I’ll make sure that beautiful voice of yours is heard, Isabelle.”
