I didn't sleep. I spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, replaying the sound of my own voice saying that word.
SORRY.
It tasted like a weakness. And to make matters worse, I'd run away, just because I got spooked by a syllable.
I'd been in the kitchen since 6:30 AM, nursing a black coffee and checking the Obsidian Award metrics. Her numbers were still climbing, but so were the "Boycott Elara" hashtags.
My head was a mess of legal jargon and the memory of her eyes with those glasses didn't seem like it was leaving anytime soon.
Elara walked into the kitchen by 7:25 AM, wearing an oversized hoodie and an expression that said she was ready for war.
She didn't look at me. She went straight for the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and winced as she tried to lean against the counter.
"How's the hip?" I asked, my voice filled with unnecessary concern.
"Oh, so the Fixer has a memory?" She didn't look up. "It's fine. Just a giant purple reminder that Isla Matthews is dangerous when she's being 'polite.'"
I set my coffee down. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to..."
"To let go? Or to apologize?" She finally looked at me, and the fire in her eyes was back. "Because I think the apology hurt you way more than the floor hurt me."
I went back to my laptop in the dining room and she followed after. "We have a briefing at ten. The court case is in a week and Chris..."
"I don't care about Chris right now, nor the court case." She walked over and slammed my laptop shut. I stared at her hands on the lid, then slowly looked up.
"Ms. Jones-"
"No. You owe me." She leaned in, her face inches from mine. The smell of mint and frustration rolled off her. "You dropped me. You fled the room. And you still haven't done that exercise with me."
"I have work to do."
"This is work," she said. "I can't write, Isla. I told you, I'm foggy. lf I don't finish this song, then I could as well be regarded as every other jobless Hazanian without a future in this country. You're my manager. Fix my brain."
I looked at her, really looked at the bruise-like shadows under her eyes and realized she wasn't just being annoying. She was desperate.
"Fine," I conceded, pushing the chair back. "What do you want to do?"
"Ever heard of the mirror exercise."
"You have five minutes. So more showing and less talking"
"Ten minutes," she bargained, a tiny, victorious smirk playing on her lips. "And you have to take your contacts out. I want to see how 'practically blind', you really are."
"Really funny"
"I'm dead serious, take it off" her tone changed and I reluctantly got up, not because she said so but because I felt bad that I had let her fall.
She better enjoy this while it last. After taking my contacts off, I came back to find her standing in the middle of the living room.
This was confusing.
"Come here" she ordered gesturing for me to come when she noticed me staring.
I approached her, hands crossed together.
"Like I said, this is an exercise I did a while back in drama class. It helps know how compatible you are with a person and if you truly trust them. Now bring your hands up, and hold them to your chest level with your palms facing me."
Compatible? Trust? Was she okay?
"Isn't this for like couples?"
"It's for many things Isla" She gave me a pointed look, her jaw set in a way that made it clear she was answering the question only to shut me up, but the sudden pink tint on her ears betrayed her.
All this because I was complying. I should have shut her down earlier. Not to mention the throbbing pain I felt on my forehead and wrist.
She brought her hands up too to my level. She was short and it was really obvious from the way she stretched. I lowered my hands a bit, she let out a half smile before finally talking.
"Now," she whispered, lowering her hands to my level. She didn't touch me, she kept about an inch of space between our palms which was still close enough to feel the radiating heat of her skin, but far enough to keep my spiralling brain at bay.
"The rules are simple. One of us is the leader, the other is the mirror. You have to follow my movements exactly. No lag, and no hesitation. Don't look at my hands look at my eyes."
"Ms. Jones, this is...""
"Focus, Isla. Mirror me."
She began to move. She slid her right hand slowly to the side, her fingers trailing through the air like they were moving through water. I followed instantly, mimicking the path.
She moved her left hand upward, then tilted her head. I matched her beat for beat. The only sound in the room was the low hum of the AC and the rhythmic thud of my own heart.
"You're looking at my hands," she scolded softly. "Eyes on me."
My gaze snapped up to hers, big mistake.
I really was scrap metal and resisting closing this distance was the hardest thing I'd ever done.
Lately I've been thinking. Elara Jones AKA Lara J is a freaking public sensation. I'd watch most of her concert videos and I got a little idea of what every fan was hyped about.
I'd done worse without hesitation. But hurting her even accidentally didn't sit the same. The irony, I scoffed inwardly.
We were both women to begin with, I could live my life and not give two shits about what others thought of me whereas she couldn't.
"Has anyone ever told you…" her voice cut through my thoughts. I blinked a few times to be able to see her again. "You, you're" she stuttered, my brows rose slightly. "You make me uncomfortable when you stare like that"
"I'm really trying to look away, believe me" I said barely audible and suddenly my mind got quiet, all my thoughts had left me. I was trying to process what I had just said, but nothing logical was playing.
"Isn't it unethical to have you, a homosexual handle her at such a time" the question rang in my mind suddenly.
I stepped back "I'm sorry" I said it again like it was an easy word. she caught hold of my hand and I looked at where she had grabbed me, she let go when she noticed the bandage and I widened the distance between us in seconds.
"And why can't you look away?" She blurted out the question instead of apologizing.
"You do not need to know" I answered picking up all my things from the table.
"I'm not going to pretend you didn't say anything"
"I regret accepting your invitation last night" I added heading for the door.
"Isla?"
"Let's just forget last night ever happened and forget I said anything today."
I shut the door behind me and just stood there. The cool morning air doing nothing to dampen the heat in my face. The alarm bells that had been ringing in the back of my mind since the pool were suddenly deafening. They weren't just warning me anymore; they were mocking me for my indecisiveness.