So why would her mind imagine him like this, disheveled, breathless, undone?
And worse, why on earth did she feel… attracted to this rough version of him?
Was she a pervert??
Something is seriously wrong with me, she concluded.
But the "dream" refused to stay a dream.
People around her started pulling out their phones. One by one. Then more. She noticed the movement, the quiet excitement, the whispering. Cameras were pointed in her direction, no, at him, at the man walking straight toward her.
Toward her seat.
Wait… what's happening? she thought, her heart racing.
Before she could make sense of it, he was already there.
"Olaedo," he said, bent slightly forward, trying to catch his breath. "Don't leave. Please… don't leave."
Her chest tightened.
"Wait," she said quickly, standing halfway but reaching out to steady him. "Calm down."
She glanced around. People were openly recording now. This was not the place. Not with all these eyes.
