The rain had finally stopped falling, and its rhythmic patter was replaced by the sounds of the street coming to life in the morning.
Belinda opened her eyes for the millionth time, her head slumping forward from exhaustion. She hadn't wanted to sleep; she was still terrified. As soon as she closed her eyes, the terrible images came back to life in her head, making her jump in fear.
Bill had helped her lie down and shielded her with his body against the cold that was trying to reclaim her and the fear that kept coming back.
She wasn't entirely convinced that Alex hadn't been real: she felt his physical presence, painful and creeping.
The emptiness that had gripped her when she feared losing Bill had made her realize how much she cared for him, and she couldn't hold back the tears. She no longer knew whether they were coming because of the dream or because she had realized she was in love with him. It had all started with glances, gestures, and those daily tender moments.
With her first boyfriends and then with Alex, it had started gradually, with the right amount of contact and glances.
With Bill, however, she had been faced with a reality she had been unaware of until five minutes earlier.
The boy moved slightly beside her, and she tried to make herself smaller to give him more space in bed. He hadn't left her side for a moment, he had been present without being intrusive, reassuring her the entire time with his warm embrace and light kisses on her hair.
A tear rolled down her lashes as she thought of all that tenderness and attention.
He didn't seem like the same distant boy she'd met three weeks ago, the one she would have gladly thrown off the stage, but someone who threatened to take a huge place in her heart.
She blinked and found herself staring into dark eyes: he hadn't uttered a single word, and she didn't know what to say other than thank him.
"You're hurting yourself needlessly, Bel," she whispered softly.
"I can't stop," she apologized, her voice trembling.
"Would it make you feel better if I talked about it?"
Belinda shook her head, terrified at the thought of confessing that she'd seen him die in such a horrible way. Also because she felt deeply guilty, given that Alex had done it because of her.
"It's okay," Bill sighed, caressing her cheek, pulled her into his protective embrace, and closed her eyes.
The pain she felt threatened to overwhelm her, but she felt the growing awareness within her, like a ray of sunshine piercing the fog, that she had to talk to him. She could no longer hide, not when he was giving her all the support she needed.
I love him... she said, surprised at her own thought. I can't lose him, I don't want to! I have to tell him, he has to know, before something happens.
It was a few hours before dawn, and she knew he had to go to the recording studio. He'd been awake all this time and needed to rest, but she couldn't put it off. The mere thought of never seeing him again made her feel lost.
She raised her arm and slowly caressed his cheek, sitting up. Bill instantly leaped up, trying to hold her back.
"I'm not running away, I just want to go wash my face," she said with a faint smile.
Bill frowned, his gaze piercing the gloom.
"Really, I'll be right back."
She kissed his restraining hand and freed herself, heading for the bathroom.
Her reflection in the mirror was unrecognizable: her hair was disheveled, her eyes red with traces of dark eyeliner that had melted from tears, her lips swollen. She was unwatchable and felt devastated.
She washed herself by scrubbing her face with soap, dried herself, combed her hair until it was static, and tied it in a ponytail. More calmly, she returned to the bedroom.
She lingered at the door, thinking about what she would say to the boy when he returned. She took a deep breath and entered.
Bill was still sitting on the bed, stiff, ready to spring at the first suspicious sound.
She gave him a weak smile and clung to him, letting herself go into his arms, which immediately wrapped around her protectively.
"Bel..."
"It's not that I don't want to tell you what I saw, but just thinking about it makes my blood run cold. I know it was just a nightmare, but it was so real to me."
"I know."
Those two solemn words made her realize that perhaps she had intuited something.
"Everything that happened has made me come to a conclusion..."
"What?" he asked, a wary tone in his voice.
Belinda raised her face to him. "Whatever happens after today, whether you and I see each other again or lose each other, I want you to know how I feel for you."
She spoke the words simply, savoring the feeling of being safe and protected.
She leaned her face toward his and kissed him tenderly.
Bill's lips yielded to her pressure, and with a rush, he laid her down on the bed, laying her on her back.
After an initial moment of relenting, Bill pulled away slightly, searching for certainty. "Who are you really kissing, Bel?"
"You. You asked me, remember? I can't hide the fact that, despite all my struggles to resist you, you've destroyed my defenses," he admitted, feeling emotion flooding through him. "And I don't want Bill Kellar. I want you, the real you."
He leaned in to kiss her again, more passionately, but not for long enough.
"Are you sure? Aren't you just doing this because of what happened last night?" she asked, still unconvinced.
"Yes," she replied seriously. "You warned me it would happen and that I just had to decide when. I don't want to put it off any longer, I… I was afraid of losing you."
"Bel, what…"
"I won't tell you now, Bill, don't push me. Just know that after what I dreamed, I'm very clear about how I feel about you."
"And what?"
Belinda smiled, realizing that wouldn't make things easier for her: she had wanted his surrender and now she was waiting for victory.
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully.
"I like that slightly complicated boy like you, with those long gazes that make me feel like I'm the center of your thoughts. I adore your smile, your stubbornness, but above all that you can read me… I don't want B.K., the big star: I really don't like him." I'll never be able to digest your character, you know that, but I can't help but feel a deep affection for you.
"You might not like me, you know? Away from the lights, I might not shine anymore," Bill whispered, his lips on her cheek.
"I don't care about your light, I love your shadow," she confessed, nuzzling his nose.
Bill smiled, and the darkness seemed to glow with an intense light, as his lips sought hers and his hands caressed her body.
Bill Kellar, the singer, the artist, the idol of the crowd, was no longer there; Belinda, the girl with the great voice, the sad smile, had vanished: there were only two young people who, in the pale light of a rising dawn, met each other.
The splendid light of a star and the pale light of the moon merged, primitively, in a single great embrace, as a timid sun greeted the new day.