Chapter eight.
1135 Words
Renna's POV.
By the time I reached our apartment, the day was already clear.
I still smelled faintly of his cologne, still felt the warmth of that hidden place clinging to me, and stepping back into my own doorway felt like crossing worlds.
The lock clicked behind me.
“Finally!” a familiar voice called from inside.
Gia popped her head out of the kitchen, wearing an oversized hoodie and fuzzy socks. She had a coffee mug in one hand and a knowing grin spreading across her face.
“Well, look who decided to come home from the dead,” she said. “Miss Vanishing-Act herself.”
I tried to play it cool, dropping my bag onto the couch. “Good morning to you too.”
“It’s afternoon, babe,” she said, widening her eyes dramatically. “You disappeared the night of my birthday. I thought you’d been abducted or eloped or joined a secret cult.”
I laughed, mostly because I didn’t know how else to respond. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Am I?” She followed me as I walked toward my room. “Because I distinctly remember pushing you toward a dangerously handsome man in that club, and then... poof, you were gone. No text, no ‘hey, I survived,’ nothing. Do you know how many times I almost called campus security?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Zero?”
“Correct,” she said, grinning wider. “Because I knew you were probably somewhere having the time of your life.”
I rolled my eyes and opened the wardrobe, pretending to search for something just to avoid her gaze. “You’re imagining things.”
“Uh-huh.” She leaned against the doorframe, sipping her coffee. “So you’re telling me that after I shoved you toward Mr. Dark-and-Mysterious, you just talked to him for five minutes and came home like a saint?”
I turned, crossing my arms. “Exactly.”
She raised one perfectly shaped brow. “Renna.”
“What?”
“That face you make when you’re lying? You’re making it right now.”
I tried not to smile. “I am not.”
“Oh, you totally are. It’s the tiny twitch at the corner of your mouth.” She pointed accusingly. “That’s your guilty tell.”
I groaned and threw a pillow at her. “Stop profiling me like you’re in some detective show.”
She caught the pillow mid-air, laughing. “Come on, spill. What happened after I pushed you over there? I was a little carried away by my boo I didn't notice what transpired between you both."
"And you also didn't spend the night here too, because I did, alone."
She shook her head dramatically. "Okay, guilty, but why are you dodging the question?"
I hesitated, my fingers fiddling with the hem of my sleeve. “We talked.”
“Define talked.”
“Like… normal people talk.”
“Uh-huh.” Gia set down her mug on my desk and crossed her arms. “Normal people who make each other vanish for forty-eight hours?”
I winced. “Forty-eight?”
“Don’t act surprised. Do you even remember what day it is?”
She wasn’t wrong. The last two days had blurred together in a haze of heat.
Gia’s grin softened into curiosity. “So… was it him? The guy from the corner of the club?”
I sat on the edge of my bed, sighing. “Yes.”
Her eyes went wide, then she squealed so loudly I was sure the neighbors heard. “I knew it! Oh my God, you actually did it! He was like a movie character, Renna. You can’t drop a bomb like that and give me nothing. Details, woman!”
I couldn't hold back my laughter. “There aren’t any details.”
“Liar.” She plopped down beside me, tucking one leg under herself. “Okay, fine, maybe not all the details. Just tell me who he is. What’s he like? Did you get his name at least?"
“His name’s...” I suddenly trailed off as I suddenly realized that I didn't even know his name.
What the actual hell?
"It's complicated." I lied.
Gia groaned. “Oh no. He’s one of those mysterious, probably-dangerous types.”
I laughed softly. “He’s… not dangerous. Just… older.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Older how?
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “just older.”
She nudged me with her shoulder. “And you like that.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
We both laughed, the sound easing the tension that had been sitting heavy in my chest. But Gia’s curiosity wasn’t done.
“So what’s the catch?” she asked finally. “You have that look.”
“What look?”
“The I-like-him-but-I-shouldn’t look.”
I stared at the carpet, twisting my fingers together. “Maybe I just don’t know what this is yet.”
“That’s okay,” she said simply. “You don’t have to define it right now. Just… promise me he’s not some creep.”
“He’s not.” I said it a little too quickly, but the certainty in my voice surprised even me. “He’s… kind, actually. Gentle in a way that doesn’t feel fake, and also mysterious in a good way too, he's a lot, really."
Gia’s expression softened. “You sound like you needed that.”
I nodded slowly. “Maybe I did.”
For a while we just sat there, the quiet stretching comfortably between us. Gia reached for her mug again and took a sip before clearing her throat.
“You know,” she began, “whatever this turns into, just make sure you’re not losing yourself in it. That happens sometimes.. with guys who pull you in fast. They burn bright and leave smoke.”
“I know,” I said, meaning it.
She smiled. “Then I trust you.”
“Thanks, Gia.”
She stood and stretched, yawning. “Alright, mystery woman, I’ll stop interrogating you for now. But I’m holding you to brunch tomorrow. You owe me every non-R-rated detail.”
I laughed. “Deal.”
As she strolled back to her bedspace, humming under her breath, I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling.
The apartment was quiet again, but my mind wasn’t.
I could still hear his voice from that hidden place. "This is the only place we’re safe."
Safe from eyes, he’d said.
I wasn’t sure that safety and secrecy were the same thing, but for now, I didn’t let myself untangle it.
I just closed my eyes, and tried to believe that hiding could really feel this much like peace.
- Writer
