Friday กรุ่นไอกลิ่นไร่ชา

“Another glass, please,” Belle whispered, her voice trembled slightly as she pushed her empty glass toward the bartender.

Her eyes were red, and her heart felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces.

“You okay, miss?” the bartender asked, eyeing her with concern.

“I’m fine,” she forced a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Just… celebrating the end of something.”

She downed the next drink quickly. The burn of the alcohol was the only thing that numbed the pain of the betrayal she had just discovered.

She felt dizzy, the room seems to be spinning around her. Needing air, she stumbled away from the bar, weaving through the crowd. She wasn’t looking for anything other than a quiet place to breathe, but her feet seemed to have a mind of their own.

Without realizing it, she pushed open a heavy door and found herself in a corridor. She opened another door, thinking it was a restroom, and stepped inside.

It was a private lounge, smelling of expensive sandalwood and cigar smoke. And there, standing near the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city lights, was a man... Draven Blackwood.

He turned around slowly. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a face that looked like it had been carved by gods. A sharp jawline, piercing grey eyes, and hair as dark as midnight.

She froze, her breath caught in her throat. “I… I’m sorry! I didn’t know this room was occupied.” She tried to turn back, but her legs felt weak, making her swayed slightly.

Strong arms caught her before she could fall. His touch sent a jolt straight through her body.

“Easy there, woman...” his voice was deep. “You’ve had too much to drink, little one.”

“I’m not little!” she mumbled, looking up into his eyes. She should have been afraid, should have pulled away, but there was something magnetic about him. Something that made her forget everything else. “I just… I wanted to forget.”

“Forget what?” he asked, his gaze is intense as he held her firmly.

“Everything,” she whispered, tears started spilled over. "All the pain because of his fucking betrayal!"

He studied her face for a long moment. Usually, he would have security escort anyone who trespassed out immediately, but seeing her tears, seeing the raw vulnerability in her eyes, something in his cold heart shifted.

“You don’t deserve to be sad,” he said softly, his thumb brushing away a tear on her cheek. The gesture was gentle. It's completely unlike his usual demeanor.

“Who are you?” she asked, leaning into his touch instinctively.

“Someone who wants to make you forget tonight,” he replied, his voice dropping an octave. “And you?”

“B-Belle,” she breathed out. “My name is Aurelia Belle.”

“Belle,” he repeated, as if tasting the name, and memorizing it. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

The alcohol blurred the lines between right and wrong, and the chemistry between them was too powerful to ignore. The world outside ceased to exist. There was only him, and only her.

It was wild, passionate, and felt strangely like coming home. For one night, she wasn't the broken-hearted girl; she was desired, she was loved, and whole.

~

The morning sun was harsh, streaming through the curtains and hitting her face.

She woke up with a throbbing headache and a dry mouth. As consciousness returned, so did the memory of last night. Her eyes flew open, and she turned her head slowly.

Lying next to her was the man from the party. He was sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling. He looked even more handsome in the daylight, but panic instantly seized her chest.

What have I done?

Shame washed over her. She was naked in a stranger's bed. She didn't know his name, his job, or anything about him. She had acted impulsively, driven by heartbreak and alcohol. What if he thought she was just another gold digger? What if he judged her?

Her heart hammered against her ribs. She couldn't face him. She couldn't stay here and have the awkward conversation. The only thing her terrified mind could think of was to run.

Moving as slowly and silently as possible, she gathered her scattered clothes from the floor. She dressed quickly, while her hands shaking. She glanced back at him one last time. He looked so peaceful, and perfect. She felt a pang of regret, but fear was stronger.

She slipped out of the bed and crept toward the door. Just as she was about to leave, she hesitated. It felt wrong to disappear completely, like a ghost.

She spotted a notepad and pen on the desk near the door. With trembling hands, she wrote just some word:

Thank you for making me forget all the pain just for one night.

—Aurelia Belle Crawford

That was all she could give him, nothing more.

She opened the door slightly, checked that the hallway was clear, and slipped out, running away from the hotel room, away from the man, and away from the best and worst night of her life. She didn't look back, not knowing that this decision would shape the rest of her destiny.

Inside the room, Draven stirred. The sound of the door clicked shut pulled him from sleep. He opened his eyes, reaching out instinctively to the side, expecting to feel warmth, but his hand met only cold sheets.

He sat up abruptly, scanning the room, but it was already empty. He ran a hand through his messy hair, a frown formed on his forehead. The memories of last night flooded back, the teary eyes, the soft skin, the name she had whispered. Belle.

He stood up and walked to the window, naked and powerful. His eyes caught the piece of paper on the desk. He walked over and picked it up.

Just simple gratitude words and her full name, written in delicate handwriting.

“Aurelia Belle…” he murmured, a dark, possessive glint entered his grey eyes. “You left me with just a name… but you can’t run from me. I will find you.”

He crushed the paper slightly in his fist, his jaw set tight. He didn't know who she was, or where she came from, but one thing was sure.

He wasn't going to let her disappear forever.