When the fear of isolation pulls Ashton and Ria together, nothing can prepare them for the collision. An anomaly shatters the repetitive fabric of their lives, sending them on a journey of discovering themselves and one another.
Beneath Ashton's gen...
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STAINS OF INTIMACY LINGER BETWEEN RIA'S THIGHS. A fine layer of sweat clings to her flushed skin. She drags her trembling fingertips over her breasts and feels as her heart begs to be released from her rib cage.
Her body reflects every sign of pleasure, of being tainted by lust.
Though her heart, the one that pounds because of a man – who now slumbers next to her – that was buried between her thighs until he reached his climax, is empty.
The silhouette of New York looms along her ceiling, a jagged reminder of the steel corporations that surround her, contrasting the charming architecture of her hometown in Rome. Had she never left, would the dominoes of life tumble in this direction? Perhaps she'd be a well-renowned artist. A painter who could weave her emotions into every stroke of her brush. A mirror that could sketch anyone who stands before her. The people who stand before her now? They provide no food for the soul.
She finds herself staring at the stranger lying naked in her bed staining her sheets with his sweat.
What's his name again?
He should leave.
Regret claws at the pit of her stomach as she suddenly wants to rid her apartment of his presence, rid her skin of the fragments of himself that he has left on her, like crumbs falling from the mouth of a starving beast.
It's always like this after sex. Disgust. Regret. They linger so long after her affairs. Yet she finds herself letting another man crawl back into her bed every Saturday night.
Empty promises of pleasure, husky and desperate, fall from their eager tongues. For a moment, she'll let herself believe that they'll be different.
They never are. Never.
Her restless eyes travel to her window where thousands of city lights pierce through her sheer lavender curtains. Alone. She wants to be alone with these artificial lights, lights she stares at and pretends are stars, stars that don't exist in this city tainted with pollution.
The bed shifts as her expired lover stirs. A groan. Then his fingers find the soft flesh of her stomach. Ria fights the urge to recoil and shed her skin.
Don't touch me. "You should leave," she whispers instead. Heavy breathing follows. Sirens and horns blare in the distance. A pounding heart attempts to be tamed.
Then... "Okay," one word littered with hints of disappointment coming from the lips she allowed to touch her skin just moments ago.
After that, Ria loses track of time and space. There's no alert of him leaving her side or getting dressed. She glances over and he's gone. Another lonely soul finding comfort in her sheets and between her thighs for a brief moment leaves without carving a piece of himself into her memory.
