One Night with the Hybrid King

 My breathing is still heavy, feeling Alexander's strong, firm arms beneath me, embracing my shoulders. I rest my head on his chest, feeling safe and blissfully happy in this moment after sex. Nothing could be more perfect than this. The room is saturated with our passion; I watch the afternoon light filtering through the curtain, dancing across the messy bed.

“Aria, I need to talk to you,” Alexander suddenly says, his deep, hoarse voice laden with regret.

I lift myself up, turning my head to look at him, noticing in his dark blue eyes, like the ocean at dawn—deep and mysterious—something that seems to be eating away at him.

“Yes, my love, what is it?” I encourage, brushing a strand of his wavy brown hair, a gesture that always brings me peace.

But Alexander takes my hand, gently moving it away from his face. He sits up on the bed and takes a deep breath. I look at him, worried, not understanding what’s happening.

“It’s not working, Aria,” Alexander states, his voice cold and serious. I raise my eyebrows at him, not fully grasping what he means.

“What do you mean, Alex? What’s not working?” I ask, confused. Alexander gestures between us, indicating the space between him and me.

“This—us. I thought things might get better, but they haven’t…” Alexander replies with a tone of calm finality.

I sit there on the bed, pulling the sheet up to cover not just my body, but also my heart, which is now breaking.

“You’re breaking up with me? Why? What’s wrong? What did I do?” I ask, a lump forming in my throat as I feel my eyes sting with unshed tears.

Alexander stands up from the bed, the distance he puts between us cutting me even deeper. He begins dressing, and I just watch, trying to process what’s happening.

“Alexander, why? Let’s talk, try to work out what’s bothering you,” I insist, standing up too and wrapping the sheet around myself.

“It’s too late, Aria. We just don’t fit anymore, I don’t know… I just need you to leave, okay?” Alexander responds, walking around the room, gathering the clothes we’d tossed aside so passionately.

“You don’t love me anymore? Is there someone else?” I ask anxiously, my heart pounding with the fear that there’s someone else Alexander has feelings for.

Alexander quickly hands me my clothes, leaving me feeling stunned by the way he’s handling the situation.

“Aria, don’t make this more complicated. It’s just not working, okay?” Alexander says finally, now fully dressed.

I stand there in the middle of the room, clutching the sheet and my clothes, unsure of what to think or say. Alexander looks at me with those deep ocean eyes that I feel I could drown in, his expression full of pity and compassion, but there’s something else I can’t quite decipher.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask again, unable to comprehend. We had just made love, something that had always been amazing for both of us.

“Because it's just not working anymore, that happens, Aria. People break up and move on,” Alexander responds, looking away and shrugging. “I'll leave you alone to change, and when I come back, please... don't be here anymore, please.”

I open my mouth to argue, to insist, even take a step toward Alexander, but he dodges me and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. I'm left alone in the room, not knowing what to do. Tears start to fall down my face, and everything around me feels small and unfocused. I put on my clothes amidst sobs and the trembling that shakes my entire body.

My world seems to collapse, and I don't know what to do. I look at the small bedroom in Alexander's apartment, there are photographs of us scattered around, tempting me to throw them on the floor. Eventually, not knowing how much time has passed, I decide to leave the room.

Alexander's small loft is empty; he left without saying where he was going. My keys are on the kitchen counter, along with my purse. I take one last look at the place, trying to memorize everything before I leave. The blue sofa where Alexander and I spent so many nights just cuddling while watching a movie, the kitchen where I prepared most of our meals. Everything begins to transform into painful memories, a longing and a farewell that blend together and hurt.

I take only my purse and leave my spare key where it is. I close the door behind me, feeling a wave of confusion wash over me. What do I do now?

Night is already falling outside Alexander's building, and I don't want to go back home; my mother will ask questions, and I don't want to answer them, because the truth is, I don't know how to answer them. I walk down the sidewalk automatically, with no destination in mind, bumping into people in a hurry, and I realize that the tears have stopped falling, replaced by my body telling me I need to eat something.

Without paying attention, I enter the first bar I find open and order a plate of fries and two mugs of beer.

“Tough day?” the bartender asks, and I just nod in response.

I rest my arms on the counter, feeling the urge to cry return, but I control myself. I won’t play the role of the needy girlfriend who got dumped and cries in public places. I'll maintain whatever dignity I have left.

The bar begins to fill up, the music grows louder, and I get more drunk with each mug I finish. The alcohol starts to numb my heart, and gradually I forget the reason I started drinking.

“Are you alone?” a deep male voice suddenly asks.

I lift my gaze toward the voice and find a tall man, over six feet five inches, with dark blonde hair slicked back to match his full beard, two shades lighter than his hair. His green eyes look like two precious stones, gazing at me with desire and curiosity.

“For your luck, yes,” I respond, a bit too cheerfully.

“Two shots of tequila,” the man orders from the bartender, who quickly serves him. He offers one of the shots to me, and I accept gratefully. “What are you doing here alone?”

“Waiting for you, handsome. You took your time, you know?” I reply with humor, causing the man to laugh.

“Sorry, the traffic. I came as fast as I could,” he plays along, and I feel happy about that.

“I’ll only forgive you if you keep me company until dawn,” I suggest, with mischief in my voice.

I want to forget about Alexander, his defined abs, his goofy smile, his ocean eyes, and the way he kissed me. I want to forget everything about him, and this man in front of me, he can surely do that for me.

    “Challenge accepted,” the guy replies with a mischievous smile on his lips. His presence ignites desire and arousal in me, mixed with the high alcohol content already coursing through my veins.

***

      My house is quiet; my mother must have already gone to her bed. As soon as we get to my room, the man who seems like a Greek god advances to kiss me. His lips are thin and soft, I feel the roughness of his beard against my skin, but it doesn’t bother me. My hands are quick, and I soon begin removing his shirt, feeling every muscle of his chest with my nails. The Greek god kisses my neck, and his big, soft hands are quick as he lifts me into his arms. I cross my legs around his waist and wrap my arms around his neck, feeling the strands of his silky hair winding around my fingers.