Don't run away

"So, how about it?"

Diana almost wanted to yawn, hearing this so early in the morning. She was still tired from last night.

That night was literally etched in her memory and in the lines of her body, maybe that was one of the reasons for the looks of desire lately.

Either she was thinking too much, or she had finally become aware of them.

But it was strange. Her thoughts were conflicting because she felt that she had started to shine lately, she felt lighter, freer and more confident.

And this was reflected in her world, something that seemed to stir up the sense of competitiveness in men, but...

"Sorry, I'll have to decline," she spoke in fluent French that drew surprised looks. She smiled peacefully.

The trio of young men were handsome, their looks seemed clouded by youth and masculinity, but they were something close to her age.

They just seemed to live miles away from her reality, to the point that receiving that offer seemed almost cute...

Compared to the man she left in bed, Diana could imagine herself saying she found three bunnies on the way home.

The interested party's friends smiled, they were taller than her, Diana looked at them and the young man did the same. In his trembling smile, she could almost feel a wounded ego.

Much more from the mockery of his friends, than from his own rejection.

Diana also had some pride. She would not participate in that. So she walked between them.

"Don't be shy. I'd like to go out with you someday, how about that?"

Following her at a slow pace, Diana wondered if she would ever like to have bodyguards.

"Sorry. I have to go," looking into the bunny's eyes she smiled like an older sister and lifted the paper bags in her arms.

Yes, she had overdone it with the snacks and sweets.

The bakeries in Paris were simply too attractive.

"Oh! You know this place, I always stop by to get some... How about we stop by, um... tomorrow morning?"

Diana quickened her pace.

Her only comforts being the comfortable scarf and the view of the apartment. Meanwhile, the young people started an ideal conversation.

His friends decided to support him, while Diana tried to remember if she had spoken another language besides French today.

"Huuf..."

Suddenly she heard something she recognized. The sigh of a voice she knew well.

"You can't resist sweets, can you?"

The young woman looked back. She barely noticed that she was smiling. Her lips had a life of their own, her voice followed suit.

"I bought some for us to share," Diana sang on impulse, like a little bird, half offended, half amused, half relieved... Happy.

Approaching as if he didn't want anything and breathing heavily, he took the bags. Almost like a loyal dog, towering over her a head taller.

Diana's friends had already frozen the moment they heard another language besides their own, with surprised expressions at her answer, they moved away step by step.

Nero finally looked around, he was so close that the young woman could see the drops of sweat running down his chin to his T-shirt, in shorts and sneakers, Diana observed that body, the tense and revealing muscles through the thin fabric were a good reminder.

His wet hair, his striking eyebrows on his white skin, his face with tears of sweat and his smell... The smell mixed with the perfume of his clothes.

Diana wouldn't admit it, but she liked to see him like that, like a wet dog, and to feel him so close...

She had already noticed that Nero was tall. Around six feet and eighty-five. But for some reason he looked like a tower, mysterious, imposing and nostalgic, standing out in the middle of that group.

It didn't take long for the others to notice it too.

...

..

.

As they approached the building, he took advantage of her again and spoke in soft French in her ear.

"Miss, how about you give me your number, too?"

Her lips trembled so much that when she turned around, she started hitting him. He dodged most of the slaps by laughing lightly, but she still felt justified in hitting him hard.

After an amused look from an elderly couple, they both entered the building. With the doors closed and the luxurious hallway empty.

Diana took advantage of him a little too, the bags in her arms were her accomplices.

Then, holding his face between her hands, she stole a long kiss and quickly turned to hide her smile.

"Why didn't you tell them you had a boyfriend?", he asked without a care in the world on the stairs.

She rolled her eyes, observing the details of the ceiling. Like a fox looking at grapes, she searched for the right words.

"Do I have a boyfriend?" Diana sounded as convincing as she could. She only stopped on the stairs when she heard footsteps moving away.

"Hey!" an eyebrow raised, and they both fell silent as he looked up.

Diana felt that moment had an important meaning, perhaps a childish doubt.

He was so close, yet so far away. Would she lose him again? Was that her fear? The doubt of her inner child... As an adult, wouldn't it be better to ask?

'Are you going to run away again?', her voice wouldn't come out.

In the end, her childish self took over, leaned on the balcony and asked:

"At least give me my bags back."

Going down a few more steps, Nero looked at the bags full of his arms. His look was one of surprise and confusion.

Diana almost believed his innocent act, but he took one last step to the floor below, sniffed the air lightly... The young woman felt her mouth go dry.

'My sweets...'

His eyes returned to her, serious, silent. His head tilted and he looked like an owl, his charm only broken by the click of his tongue and the pursed lips.

"Only half."

A vein appeared on his forehead as the young woman smiled 'gently'.

"Okay. Put the bags down very slowly..."

It was at the moment he began to separate half of the bags that something seemed wrong. Slowly he took another step down the floor. The elevator had just stopped on the floor, a loud "clunk" sound reverberated through the place.

Diana's jaw dropped. Her eyes squeezed shut. Her legs moved, and the bastard ran like a sly feline. Sliding down the hallway and entering the elevator in an instant.

Diana got there seconds after the doors closed and felt the urge to kill that man. Her desire was so strong that an excited smile appeared on the tips of her lips.

She could run too.

.

..

Her steps first took her to the apartment door. Her breathless voice wanted to curse him when she felt the locked doorknob, but she realized he wouldn't do that.

'The elevator.'

She took a deep breath and walked to the elevator. If this was a hide-and-seek, there would be no point in entering the apartment.

The numbers on the screen above the metal door were still counting and going up. Diana felt her sixth sense beeping, making her continue to observe those numbers with intensity.

Her heart had all the time in the world and the patience of a predator.

That was when the last number appeared.

It was almost an invitation.

'The terrace.'