His mouth opens, closes, and I watch him run a hand through his hair—that old nervous habit that used to make me want to kiss the worry lines from his forehead.
I can't stand there and be introduced as his past, as someone he used to know.
"I, uh, I need to find Camilla," I say quickly, already turning away.
"Wait!"I hear him call behind me, and the desperation in his voice makes my steps falter for just a moment.
But I'm already pushing through the crowd, fighting my way toward the exit.
I don't look for Camilla.
Instead, I pull out my phone and text her.
Nora
Hey, I’m not feeling well.Heading back to hotel.Have fun tonight, I'll see you tomorrow.So proud of you x
Camilla
What happened?Are you okay??
Nora
I'm fine.Just have a bit of a headache.I'll see you in the morning x
The night air hits me like a wall when I step outside.European summer nights are supposed to be romantic, but this one feels humid and heavy.
I look around for a taxi, but the street is empty except for groups of drunk tourists stumbling between bars and locals who seem to know exactly where they're going.
Screw it.
I start walking, my heels clicking against the cobblestones, and realize very quickly that I have no idea which direction leads back to our hotel.The streets all look the same in the darkness—narrow and winding, lined with buildings that could be centuries old or built last week.
"Nora!Wait!"
I turn to see him running toward me, and my heart does that thing it's always done—that stupid, traitorous flutter that ignores every rational thought in my head.
"I'm fine" I call back, but my voice wavers.
He reaches me, grabbing hold of my arm, and the contact sends electricity shooting up to my shoulder.
I stumble slightly, and he steadies me, pulling me closer until I'm almost crashing into his solid chest.
He's only slightly out of breath, his eyes dark and intense in the streetlight, and he shakes his head.
“You’re insane if you think I’m letting you walk home alone at 2 AM."
"I can take care of myself."
"I know you can.”His thumb brushes against my wrist where my pulse is hammering.“But I'm still walking you home."
We stare at each other, and the air between us feels charged, dangerous.I can see the exact moment he notices how close we are, the way his gaze drops to my lips for just a fraction of a second before snapping back up.
"Fine, whatever."I say.
We start walking side by side, and I'm thrown off by how calm he seems on the surface.
His hands are in his pockets, his stride easy and relaxed, like running into your first love on a random street in Barcelona is something that happens every day.
