Chapter 2 No Turning Back

Almost deserted, the street outside the bar. Sarah's bare arms were brushed by a chilly wind, which raised goosebumps. She wrapped herself, feeling simultaneously oddly alive and afraid.

Alex strolled alongside her, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. For a moment, neither spoke. The city buzzed around them – cars in the distance, the faint hum of late-night music leaking from other bars – but between them, there was just heavy, breathless silence.

Sarah sneaked a glance at him. His face seemed softer, almost sensitive, in the faint glow of the streetlights. Not as though he was a menacing stranger, but more like somebody who was just as afraid as she was.

"Are you sure about this?" he paused under a flashing lamppost to ask suddenly.

Sarah paused. One might simply joke, shrug it off, or act like this was normal. But it was not. Both of them knew it.

She said, her voice soft, "I don't know. Still, I want to discover something."

Alex grinned – that slow, genuine smile once more – and extended his hand. Sarah examined it, at the open invitation.

She slipped her hand into his. It fit exactly like the last puzzle piece she had not realized she was missing. Fingers laced together, they strolled a few blocks in quiet. The city faded around them, becoming background to something more vital – something that felt personal, confidential.

Though small, Alex's apartment was tidy: a couch squeezed against a window, a damaged bookshelf packed with novels, a guitar leaning sideways against the wall. It had his scent: soap, something smoky, coffee.

Sarah walked in and turned slowly, absorbing everything. She listened for the door closing behind her.

She freaked out for a second. What was she engaged in? Walking into a stranger's house in the middle of the night? Had she gone crazy?

She felt Alex standing behind her then – just there, not crowding, not forcing – letting her make decisions.

She began facing him. And whatever terror she had vanished along with it.

He extended his hand and tucked a hair strand behind her ear. His fingers were soft, meticulously attentive. His gaze searched hers, seeking a response without uttering a word.

First, Sarah leaned in.

Their lips touched soft at first, hesitant as though they were scared of shattering something frail. But when Alex's hand moved up to cup her cheek and Sarah's fingers got entangled in his shirt, the kiss deepened and all the barriers they had both painstakingly constructed around themselves broke off.

Heat flashed between them: quick, starving, electric. Laughing breathless between kisses, they fell back toward the couch. Clothes vanished like fractured commitments.

Nothing else mattered but the sound of their breathing, the wild, frantic pounding of her pulse, and the feel of his skin against hers.

It was not only lust. It wasn't only loneliness. It was something more profound, something raw, real, and horrific.

Sarah rested with her head on Alex's chest, then tangled in the sheets. His fingers drew slow circles on her back. Neither of them talked.

It should have felt embarrassing. It ought to have felt inappropriate. It did not, though.

She felt like she had finally discovered somewhere to belong – even if just for one night.

Sarah closed her eyes and let Alex's heartbeat steady thump carry her into a kind of half-sleep.

Deep down, though, a small voice murmured: You could find yourself walking away from this. And for the first time in a long time, that frightened her more than anything else.