Chapter 2: The Night That Shifted Everything

Arya had never believed exhaustion could feel so... blissful. Yet, tonight, his body was weightless, his mind silent. It was as if the world had finally granted him permission to rest. 

His breath still came in slow, measured rhythms after their heated encounter, his chest rising and falling gently. The lingering scent of red wine on the small table mingled with the faint fragrance of Nayara's hair. The hotel room was dim, illuminated only by the city lights filtering through the large window. 

Beside him, Nayara lay with her face half-buried in the pillow. Her long hair was a tangled mess on the white sheets, but there was a sense of tranquility about her, as if she were accustomed to intimacy without strings. 

Arya reached out, gently cupping her shoulder and placing a soft kiss there. Nayara sighed, shifting to press her back against his chest, allowing him to wrap his arms around her. 

"What is this?" Arya whispered, his thumb tracing the nape of her neck, just below the hairline. He found a series of numbers tattooed there. 

"Hm?" Nayara echoed, her hand instinctively going to her neck. "Oh, this? I got it when I was really drunk, tattooed there at my own request." 

She chuckled softly. Arya, fighting the drowsiness that was slowly creeping in, tried to decipher the numbers. 

"03031997, what are these numbers?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep. 

"My birthday." Nayara replied, turning to face him, a soft smile playing on her lips. 

Arya stared at the ceiling, trying to grasp something he couldn't quite name. 

He shouldn't be feeling this way. 

Peaceful. Comfortable. And, most surprisingly, sleepy. 

A cool hand touched his cheek. Nayara gazed at him with a knowing smile, her eyes holding secrets too deep to unravel in a single night. 

"Sleep," she whispered. 

There was no coercion in her voice, only a strange calmness that was impossible to resist. And for the first time in his life, Arya closed his eyes and truly drifted off. 

Darkness. 

Silence. 

Warmth. 

There was no static in his head, no anxiety gnawing at his thoughts. No minutes stretching into endless hours, no consciousness fighting to escape his body. 

For the first time, sleep was not a battle. 

He sank into an unfamiliar peace. 

When Arya awoke, sunlight was streaming through the gap in the curtains, gently illuminating his face. His body felt different. Light. 

There was no throbbing in his head, no accumulated weariness. He took a deep breath, savoring the feeling for a moment. Until he realized something. 

The space beside him was empty. The crimson dress that had been discarded on the floor was gone. No trace of perfume lingered. No sound of running water came from the bathroom. Only crumpled sheets and an empty chill remained. 

Arya frowned, rising slowly. His gaze swept across the room, searching for something, anything, to prove that Nayara had truly been there. And then he found it. 

A small piece of paper on the nightstand. The handwriting was elegant, neat, containing only one sentence. 

"Thank you for the night." 

No name. No number. No address. Just simple words that felt like a riddle. 

Arya stared at the paper for a long time. Something was bothering him, something that left an odd emptiness in his chest. 

Why did she leave without a trace? Why didn't she wait for him to wake up, to say goodbye properly? 

More than that, something else felt more urgent within Arya. Something that felt profoundly important, life-altering. 

Why, after years of suffering from insomnia, could he finally sleep soundly, and only in Nayara's presence? 

His mind raced with unanswerable questions. It didn't make sense that the cause was the afterglow of their lovemaking. He had been with other women, and he still couldn't sleep afterward. 

Unlike after being with Nayara. He had been swept into a dreamless abyss, as easily as a leaf falling on a breeze. 

And what troubled him most was the ache in his heart. Why did this feel so wrong? 

He rose from the bed, deciding to leave as well. He should move on with his life. He should be grateful that he could finally sleep, even for one night. But instead of feeling satisfied, he felt a profound sense of loss. 

Who was Nayara? Why could he only sleep with her? 

His mind was filled with images of her, her soft, mesmerizing eyes. Her melodious voice, the way she touched him as if understanding something he didn't even comprehend. 

Arya shook his head, trying to dispel the nagging curiosity as he drove back to his apartment. But it was futile to try to forget Nayara. Her image was etched into his mind, impossible to erase. 

After a grueling day at work, his thoughts still consumed by Nayara, Arya made a decision. He returned to the bar where they had met, questioning the bartender, describing Nayara's features. 

But the answers he received only deepened his frustration. 

"Nayara?" The bartender frowned. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't recall a woman like that being here last night." 

Arya paused. Perhaps the bartender had trouble remembering specific female patrons from one night. So, he tried another approach, "Could I ask your manager to check the CCTV footage?" 

The bartender shook his head, "I'm afraid that's impossible, sir. Unless you have a legal reason." 

Arya was reluctant to give up. Frustrated by the bar's lack of assistance, he returned to his apartment without ordering a single drink. 

Back in his luxurious apartment, he searched for Nayara's name on social media, hoping to find any digital trace. 

The results were disheartening. There were many Nayaras, but none of the faces matched the woman he had spent the night with. No Nayara with soft features. No petite beauty in a crimson velvet dress. No trace of her existence. 

He sighed heavily. Should he give up, stop searching? 

Arya stood by his apartment window, holding a glass of cold milk. His eyes were fixed on his own reflection in the glass, his mind replaying the night with Nayara. 

No. He had to find Nayara. He had to prove, once and for all, if she was truly the cure to his insomnia.