Tears fell from my eyes and I was glad I was under the water to hide them. Though my vision grew blurry, I was too scared to blink to break this connection.
Ollie turned and walked toward me. His bare feet took a step into my stall and closed the curtain behind him, his eyes never leaving mine. It wasn’t a primal look, but more of a look mixed with heartache and despair. Still clothed, he took another step toward me, and we were merely an inch apart. Ollie stood over me, both our chests unable to find a calm rhythm. Water drenched his joggers, but he seemed oblivious to the weight holding them down.
And I seemed oblivious to everything else around me.
There was so much we both wanted to say, but words could only make or break this moment, and neither one of us wanted to take the risk.
Each slow movement he made filled with hesitation, catching my reaction and relishing in the way it made him feel. His fingertips traced down the sides of my arms, and if it were the only touch I’d receive from him, it would be more than enough.
Ollie lowered his head and grazed his lips across mine, then pulled away to see me.
His green eyes laced with conflict, hopeless and hope-filled—only he could pull that off. Seconds passed us by in heartbeats hanging on by the movement of the other.
And I stood frozen with a conflict of my own, afraid of every damn decision, yet him taking each doubt away by every subtle touch. His closeness healed and tore me open with every anticipating second.
Ollie’s hands ran through my wet hair as his breathing staggered. I looked up for the first time under the water to catch his expression. Water fell over his lashes and lips, and the muscles along his jawline tightened. As if it were too much for him to bear, he pressed his forehead to mine, screwed his eyes shut, and his fingers gripped the back of my head.
He pulled me into him as his lips touched mine, hovering, pulling away, drawing near, and my hands shook from holding back for this long. Breathing turned into a song, our ultimate playlist in our sacred moments such as this. But even silence told stories, wants, needs, and we always understood the same melody.
The shape of his lips latched to mine, and a drawn-out breath of relief escaped through his nose. I grabbed hold of his waist to keep myself from falling as he breathed the one word that made time standstill.
“Mia,” he breathed, his tone struggled in a wave of emotion. Ollie fell back against the tile, taking me with him. We kissed like it was our first and last time, happily trapped in an inescapable bond, tethered by lips, hearts, and souls.
And the water turned cold, but we were on fire, knowing damn well this moment would burn into us until we could be together again.
His tongue tangled with mine in a slow, soothing cadence, hitting every nerve, each stroke healing every ache. I sucked the water from his lips before returning to our dance of give and take. The taste of him sent a buzz through my bloodstream, making me dizzy and drunk on him.
I moved my hands over his waistband, tugging it down when he pulled back and shook his head against mine. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but it closed just as quickly. Ollie licked the water from his lips and kissed me one last time before stepping around me and exiting the stall.
Motionless, I stood there, feeling empty and rejected.
Time passed, I don’t know for sure how long exactly. I left the shower and moved on auto-pilot. Dressing, drying, staring at myself in the mirror. Waves of people rushed around me as I brushed my teeth, unable to comprehend my own thoughts or the words of others—until Dean Lynch’s voice came through the intercom.
“We are on lockdown until further notice. I repeat, this is Dean Lynch, and we are on lockdown until further notice. Stop whatever you are doing, and retreat to your dorm for a headcount.”
“Alright, turn off your shower, you know the drill,” a security guard called out after a single clap of the hand before he ushered people out the door.
Questions and theories buzzed through the hall until I reached my door.
It was nearly three in the morning when Ethan woke me. This time, he was already in bed behind me with arms clutched around my waist. I knew it was him by the way his stubble grazed my shoulder, and his warm breath hit my neck. Your body tends to remember the familiar presence of another before having to see with your own eyes.
It was a sixth sense telling you when you should be scared and take action, and when you are safe in the arms of another. Everyone has it. Few choose to listen to it.
My sixth sense confirmed Ethan had always belonged in my life one way or another. I just didn’t know what role he was supposed to play. Regardless, my mouth still opened and said, “Ollie,” attached with a denied hope.
And as always, Ethan corrected me with a sigh, “Ethan. It’s always Ethan.”
“What happened tonight?” I asked without turning around.
Ethan let out a breath and dug his fingers into my waist.
I didn’t feel guilty for the relationship we had, if anything, I was grateful for it. No one knew the depths and it was better that way. Around Ethan, I never had to identify what we had or put it into a box. He was a friend. He was my hero. He was everything when Ollie was gone. And he was everywhere when I needed him. He was my only anchor when everything else turned to chaos.
But the sad part was, if it came down to Ethan and Ollie, I’d choose Ollie. Ethan understood this, too, yet he still held on, taking the time we both had until Ollie came back around, allowing me to use him in ways I needed. Perhaps Ethan used me too.
We killed each other’s loneliness.
“There was a suicide in a dorm room in second wing,” Ethan said dryly. “Lynch wanted to make sure we had a headcount and clear the area for police presence.”
