Zane woke up to the quiet hum of the city filtering through the half-closed blinds, the sunlight washing over his bare chest in pale strips. For a few seconds, he just lay there, blinking up at the ceiling, mind blissfully blank.
Then it hit him.
Last night.
Lyra.
Her scent still clung to the sheets. Subtle and warm — like vanilla with a hint of something floral, something soft. He turned his head slowly toward the other side of the bed.
Empty.
No note. No text. Just a faint impression where her body had been, already fading.
His heart dipped — not into panic, but confusion. Maybe a little disappointment. Part of him expected her to be there, tangled in the sheets, still asleep, breathing softly like she had against his chest just a few hours ago.
But she was gone.
He sat up slowly, rubbing a hand across his face, as flashes of last night came rushing back. The laughter. The kiss. The way her hands had trembled the first time he touched her. And the way her walls crumbled — not all the way, but enough — just enough for him to see the real Lyra. The vulnerable one. The one hiding behind sarcasm and pride.
He exhaled deeply and got up, tugging on a shirt and walking barefoot into the kitchen. Everything still felt surreal. It wasn't supposed to go this far. That night was meant to be just a release — for both of them. No strings, no expectations.
But now?
Zane leaned against the counter and stared at his phone lying next to the fruit bowl. It felt heavier than usual, like it was daring him to make the next move.
Should I call her? Text? Leave it alone?
He wasn't used to feeling this uncertain — especially not after a night like that. Usually, he knew where things stood. But with Lyra… it was different. She was different.
Every time he thought he had her figured out, she surprised him. She didn't cling. Didn't chase. In fact, she was the one pulling away — like last night had meant something, but she didn't want to admit it. Like she was afraid to.
Zane rubbed the back of his neck, remembering the way her fingers had traced the line of his jaw as if memorizing it, and then — the way her expression had changed when it was over. That quiet tension in her eyes, like she was slipping back behind her wall before he even had a chance to reach her.
What was she thinking now? Regret? Relief?
God, he hated not knowing.
He walked to the window and stared out at the city, alive and indifferent. Down below, people moved on with their day….probably sipping coffee, catching buses, going to work ….unaware that somewhere above them, a man stood thinking about a woman who had left in the early hours of the morning and taken something with her.
Something that felt important.
His thumb hovered over his phone screen again. He could keep quiet, wait for her to reach out. But a part of him — the part he usually kept buried — didn't want to risk silence turning into goodbye.
So he opened their message thread.
They hadn't texted much. Just one line here and there before things got complicated. He hesitated, then started typing:
"Hey. Just wanted to say… last night meant more to me than I thought it would."
He stared at the message for a second longer, then hit send before he could overthink it.
Done.
The moment he set the phone down, anxiety gripped him in a way he hadn't felt in years. What if she doesn't reply? What if she regrets everything?
But deep down, Zane didn't believe that. Not after the way she looked at him last night. Not after the way her body melted against his, like she wanted to stay but didn't know how.
And maybe… maybe she just needed a little time. Maybe she was scared — not of him, but of everything she'd spent years trying to avoid.
He ran a hand through his hair and sat on the edge of the couch, letting his thoughts wander.
He remembered the first time he met Lyra. She'd walked into the room like she didn't need anyone, like she was perfectly fine on her own. And yet, even then, he noticed the way her smile never quite reached her eyes.
He saw through it.
And now, after last night, he was sure of one thing — Lyra Lawson wasn't a one-night kind of woman. Not for him.
The city outside moved on.
And Zane waited — phone in hand, heart cracked open — hoping she would choose to step back into his life.