HANNAH
The wind whipped through my hair as I leaned over the railing, the ocean stretching endlessly before me. The sun was sinking into the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. It was breathtaking—quiet, untouched by the noise of the world I had left behind.
Days had passed since the performance, and life had moved on in the way it always does. I didn’t open my phone anymore. I couldn’t. The messages, the notifications—they were like tiny needles, pricking at the corners of my mind. Some people praised me, called me a revelation. Others were less kind, accusing me of coasting on my looks, saying I lacked true skill.
It didn’t matter. Not anymore.
I told my mom I needed a break, a few days to “celebrate.” She had looked at me with concern, but I had brushed it off, kissed her on the cheek, and packed a bag. Now I was here, standing on the edge of something vast and unknowable, trying to figure out what I wanted next.
The sea was calm, its waves lapping gently against the shore. It reminded me of the little moments I’d been stealing for myself recently, the rare pockets of peace amid the chaos of my life.
But the ache in my chest was still there, an unwelcome guest I couldn’t shake. It wasn’t just the criticism or the pressure—it was Jeremy.
I hadn’t seen him since that morning. Since I knocked on his door, invited him to my performance, and left with a piece of my heart still tethered to him. He hadn’t come. I told myself I didn’t care, that his absence didn’t matter, but it did.
It mattered too much.
I closed my eyes, letting the wind cool my skin, the salty air filling my lungs. Somewhere in the distance, I heard the faint hum of a boat engine and the calls of gulls overhead. It was a perfect picture of solitude, the kind I had been craving. But it didn’t feel like enough.
For so long, I had been chasing perfection—on the stage, in my relationships, in myself. And now that I had reached the pinnacle of what I thought I wanted, I realized how much of myself I had lost along the way.
The sound of footsteps on the wooden deck startled me. I opened my eyes and turned, expecting to see a stranger passing by. Instead, I saw him.
Jeremy.
He stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his hair ruffled by the wind. He looked out of place here, his broad shoulders and tall frame cutting a stark silhouette against the gentle backdrop of the ocean. But his eyes—they were fixed on me, steady and unyielding.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.
He took a step closer, and then another, until he was standing beside me. Your mom told me where you went.”
Of course, she did.
"You were great," Jeremy said, his voice low, carrying easily over the sound of the waves.
I blinked at him, confused. "What?"
"At your performance," he clarified, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
I crossed my arms and turned back toward the horizon. "You weren’t there."
Jeremy chuckled, a soft, rich sound that made my chest tighten. "And how would you know that? You were too busy being the Black Swan to glance at me even once."
I whipped my head toward him, searching his face for any sign of a joke. His expression was calm, but his eyes held that familiar glint of mischief. "You… you were there?"
He shrugged, looking out at the ocean as though it held all the answers. "Front row."
I didn’t know what to say. The thought of him watching me perform, of him being there when I thought he wasn’t, made my heart race. "Why didn’t you tell me?"
"Would it have mattered?" he asked, his voice soft but tinged with something I couldn’t quite place.
I opened my mouth to respond, but he spoke again, cutting me off.
"You were incredible, Hannah," he said, his eyes locking onto mine. "Every move, every turn… you owned that stage. Seductive, dark, powerful. It was like watching someone completely untouchable."
My throat tightened, and I forced myself to look away. There was something in his tone, something almost intimate, that made my stomach flutter.
"You don’t have to say that," I mumbled, my cheeks heating.
"But I mean it," he said, his voice dipping lower. "The way you moved… it wasn’t just dancing. It was... something else."
I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening. "Jeremy—"
He cut me off with a soft laugh, stepping back and shaking his head. "Relax. I’m just complimenting you."
Silence stretched between us, heavy and charged. I glanced at him, but his expression was unreadable now, his teasing smile gone.
"Thanks," I said quietly, staring down at my hands.
I turned to leave, desperate to escape the weight of whatever this was. But before I could take a step, Jeremy’s hand shot out, catching my wrist.
"Wait," he said.
I stopped, my heart pounding in my chest. Slowly, I turned back to face him.
The sea breeze carried a chill, but it wasn’t enough to calm the fire roaring in my chest. Jeremy’s light blue eyes were fixed on mine, steady and unrelenting. His gaze felt like it could pierce through every barrier I’d built, leaving me vulnerable and bare.
The world around us seemed to slow. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden light that glimmered on the waves and painted the horizon in fiery reds and oranges. The soft rustle of the wind and the distant cries of seagulls were the only sounds filling the charged silence between us.
"Can we try?" Jeremy’s voice was soft, yet it carried an intensity that made my breath hitch.
I stared at him, my throat suddenly dry. His words echoed in my mind, looping endlessly. My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it.
"You and me," he added, stepping closer, the sunlight catching the sharp lines of his face. His expression was calm but earnest, and it made everything feel so... real.
I swallowed hard, desperate to find some way to break the tension. "Try what? A new flavor of ice cream? Because I’m partial to mint chocolate chip," I blurted out, forcing a shaky laugh.
Jeremy raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been amusement.
The moment felt too big, too overwhelming. Without another word, I turned and walked away, my steps quickening as if I could outrun the weight of his question. The sunlight spilled over me, long shadows stretching behind me as I hurried down the wooden deck toward the street.
But I could feel him behind me, his presence as steady and unwavering as the tide.
By the time I reached the bus stop, my heart was a chaotic mess. I didn’t know why I kept looking over my shoulder, but each time I did, there he was—silent, his strides unhurried but purposeful.
When the bus pulled up, I stepped inside, fumbling for my fare. I found a seat near the back and stared out the window, willing my pulse to slow.
And then I saw him again. Jeremy boarded the bus like it was the most natural thing in the world, his tall frame moving effortlessly through the narrow aisle. He sat down beside me, his presence grounding and unshakable.
The ride was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the chatter of other passengers. I kept my gaze glued to the passing streets, but I could feel his eyes on me, his closeness a constant reminder of everything I was trying to avoid.
When we finally reached my stop, I hurried off the bus, my legs moving on autopilot toward my apartment.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside, fully expecting the moment to end there. But when I turned, Jeremy was standing in the doorway, his face calm and serious.
"You..." he started, his voice low and steady. "You remember in grade school, when you farted in the middle of class and you almost cry?"
I froze, my eyes widening in disbelief.
"And I took the blame," he continued, his expression completely stoic, "so no one would laugh at you."
A laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop it. The memory was embarrassing, yes, but his deadpan delivery made it impossible to feel anything but amused.
Instead of crumbling under the weight of the moment, I stepped forward, closed the gap between us, and stretched up on my toes. My hands slid up to the back of his neck, and without hesitation, I pulled him down.
The kiss was instant and electric, like we had been building to this moment for years. Jeremy didn’t hesitate. His lips moved against mine with a hunger that sent sparks through my veins.
His hands found their place—one tangling in my hair, the other firmly on my waist. He stepped forward, closing the door behind him without breaking the kiss, his movements confident and seamless.
Before I knew it, he had guided me to the sofa, his lips still moving against mine, the world outside forgotten. The feel of his touch, the way he kissed me—it was consuming, intoxicating.
When he finally pulled away, his lips lingered close to mine, his breath warm against my skin. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of the universe.
"Is that a yes? Can we try?"
I nodded, unable to find the words.
And just like that, the walls I had built around my heart crumbled.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn’t running anymore.
*****
END