Waltz Time — Entry 17: The Morning After (continued)

 Waltz Time — Entry 17: The Morning After (continued)

“The hardest goodbyes are the ones that pretend to be casual.”

I sat there for a while after he walked away, stirring my coffee though it had long gone cold.  The others were buzzing with stories from the night before,  someone had snuck into the pool after hours, someone else had lost a shoe on the dance floor. Everyone looked tired but happy. I smiled when I was supposed to, nodded when I had to, but my mind was somewhere else entirely.

When I finally stood to leave, I caught sight of you outside, near the shuttle that would take us to the airport. He was talking with the stage manager, lifting his bag into the back compartment. The morning air was crisp, that familiar end-of-trip melancholy settling over the group, laughter mixed with yawns and the scraping of suitcases across pavement.

As I approached, he turned just slightly, enough to see me but not enough to draw attention. For a moment, neither of us spoke. There was too much to say and no way to say it.

“Good morning,” he said softly, that careful tone meant for my ears only.

“Morning,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

We both knew we were surrounded, castmates chatting, crew loading gear, yet the space between us felt suspended, fragile, sacred. He shifted his weight, the way he always did when trying to keep emotion in check, and looked at me with that quiet steadiness that undid me every time.

“Safe flight back,” he said finally, his eyes holding mine for a heartbeat longer than they should have.

“Yeah… you too,” I answered, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, anything to disguise the heat rising in my face.

And then he smiled, that knowing, secret smile, before turning to help someone with their bag.
I walked onto the shuttle, heart pounding, replaying every glance, every word, every touch from the night before.

As the bus pulled away, I looked out the window and saw him still standing there, hands on his hips, watching the road ahead.

It struck me then that something had shifted. Whatever this was between us, it wasn’t just a fleeting moment. It was a spark that refused to fade, quietly burning beneath the surface, waiting for its next cue.

💗

Comments

  1. This is great! I need to start from the beginning.

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