Chapter Nine: Catching Feelings by Rosaline Saul
Christopher’s set came to an end with a crescendo that left
the crowd buzzing, their energy electric as the final beats echoed through the
club. He stepped back from the booth, his heart pounding—not from the music,
but from the anticipation coursing through him.
His gaze swept across the room, and there she was, still
seated at her table.
Isabel had waited.
Taking a deep breath, he made his way over to her. The sea
of clubgoers thinned as he approached, their thank-yous barely registering in
his ears. When he reached her, she looked up at him, her expression warm but
tinged with nervousness.
“You stuck around,” he said, a smile playing on his lips.
“I said I would,” she replied, her smile soft but sincere.
“Want to get out of here for a bit?” he asked. “The beach is
quiet this time of night. It’s a nice change from all this.” He gestured
vaguely to the pulsing lights and lingering crowd.
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. That sounds
nice.”
As they walked toward the club exit, Isabel’s mind drifted
back to the first time she had seen Christopher on the beach.
That night, she had stumbled onto the sand, hoping the ocean
breeze could soothe her turbulent thoughts. She had not expected to see anyone.
He had been standing just shy of the waves pushing onto the beach, silhouetted
against the moonlight, and the faint glow turned his hair into threads of
silver. When he spoke to her, telling her that it is okay not to be okay, the
intensity of that moment had stolen her breath. There was something about his
gaze—gentle but piercing, like he could see straight into her, past the walls
she had built around her heart. She remembered thinking how strange it was that
a stranger could make her feel so seen and had wondered often why he lingered in
her thoughts.
The two of them slipped out of the club, leaving the
thrumming bass and chatter behind. The night air was cool against their skin,
carrying with it the faint tang of salt from the sea. The streets were quieter
now, the distant hum of scooters and late-night revellers blending with the
soft rustle of palm trees swaying in the breeze.
As they reached the beach, the world seemed to expand. The
sand stretched out in a moonlit expanse, shimmering under the pale glow. The
waves lapped gently against the shore, their rhythm soothing. Above them, the
stars scattered like diamonds across the velvet sky.
“Wow,” Isabel breathed, taking in the view. “It’s…
peaceful.”
Christopher glanced at her, captivated by the way the
moonlight caught in her hair. “It is.”
They walked in companionable silence, the sand cool beneath
their feet. The scent of the ocean mingled with the faint perfume she wore—a
subtle floral note that lingered in the air between them. Every so often, their
hands brushed as they walked, each accidental touch sending a jolt through
Christopher’s chest.
“Do you come here often?” she asked after a while, her voice
breaking the quiet.
“More than I should,” he admitted. “The music, the
nightlife—it’s part of me, but this… this feels more real sometimes.”
She glanced at him, her brows furrowed slightly. “Why does
that sound like it means more than it should?”
He paused, debating how much to say. “Because sometimes,
it’s easy to lose yourself in everything else. The noise, the expectations…
even the things you’re supposed to be good at.”
Her steps slowed, and she turned to face him. “That’s… surprisingly honest.”
“Not something I’m known for?” he asked, a teasing lilt in
his tone.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But most people aren’t.”
They reached a cluster of rocks near the waterline and sat
down, the waves whispering just feet away.
Isabel drew her knees to her chest, gazing out at the water.
“I don’t know why I agreed to come here with you. I don’t usually… I mean,
after everything…”
Christopher leaned forward, his forearms resting on his
thighs. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”
She turned her head to look at him. “Do you?”
“I think so,” he said softly. “Sometimes, the past feels
like it’s gripping you so tight, you can’t breathe. And trusting someone new…
that’s terrifying.”
Her breath caught, and she turned away, focusing on the
horizon. “It is,” she whispered.
Christopher wanted to reach out, to touch her hand, to tell
her that he understood more than she realized but the truth he held was too
dangerous, and the risk too great. Instead, he said, “You’re here, though. That
says something.”
She met his gaze, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of
the world disappeared.
Their hands lay close on the sand, fingers almost touching.
Christopher could feel the pull, the almost magnetic urge to close the gap
between them. His shoulders brushed hers as he shifted slightly, leaning just a
little closer.
Isabel’s breath hitched, her lips parting as if she were
about to say something but the moment stretched too long, and Christopher felt
the weight of his secret pressing against his chest.
He pulled back abruptly, looking away. “It’s getting late. I
should probably—” He hesitated, his mind racing. For a split second, he
considered telling her everything—the truth about who he was, what he was but
he stopped himself, the gods’ warnings ringing in his ears. Forcing a small
smile, he said, “Don’t want to keep you up all night.”
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