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Chapter 3
Luka noticed her before she did him. He bowed his head slightly and looked down into his drink, unsure of why he didn't want her to see him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the blurred motion of someone sitting down next to him.
'Hi.'
He looked up to see her smiling tentatively at him. Her eyes betrayed the anxiousness she felt behind the seemingly confident action of approaching him. He forced himself to smile back and this seemed to ease her awkwardness. She didn't seem to notice his own discomfort.
'You left in a hurry the other night.' She said, her voice forcibly light.
Her words surprised him and the underlying question in her words hung in the air between them.
'It's okay.' She said quickly, clearly worried by his lack of immediate reply. 'I'm glad I bumped into you again.' She paused again, embarrassed. 'I'm afraid I don't remember your name.'
'Luka.' Had this been their first meeting he would have found her shy, awkward ramble rather sweet. Instead it only made him feel more uncomfortable. This was not a woman he normally spent the night with, and nor was it the woman she had been last night.
She smiled again. 'I'm Kate.'
'I know,' he lied.
She averted her eyes, embarrassed. 'You know, I was pretty drunk the other night.'
The apologetic tone of her voice confused Luka. It wasn't that he hadn't had a one-night stand with a woman who later regretted it, because he had. It was just that on these occasions he had found that if he did happen to speak to her afterwards, which in itself was rare, her guilt was usually in the form of anger towards him. He had always found that quite understandable. He too felt anger at himself for doing what his conscience constantly reminded him was a disgraceful act, and one which he used to think himself was incapable of. It struck Luka that not only was Kate embarrassed about what had happened between them because it was not something she usually did, but also that she assumed it was the same for him. He found her misguided faith quite endearing, but it also deepened his own feeling of guilt.
'I mean, I'd had a huge fight with my boyfriend and . . .' She trailed off, seeming surprised herself by the unintentional revelation. Her natural honesty made him smile. She noticed this and continued to stammer in her embarrassment. 'Not that that matters, it's just . . . I didn't want you to think I normally took complete strangers home. Not that I'm suggesting you do . . . I mean . . . I'm sure you don't . . . I just . . .'
'Can I buy you a drink?' Luka interrupted her, almost as desperate to end her unease as she was. He was rewarded with a grateful smile.
'Yes, thank you. I'll have a dry cider.'
Luka called the waiter over and ordered their drinks.
There was another awkward pause in which both of them drank at quite an alarming rate.
Feeling he should give her a break and take his turn at filling the silence Luka blurted out 'Why did you fight with your boyfriend?'
Kate looked up at him, startled at the question. 'Oh, it was just . . . nothing.' She laughed wryly. 'We had a lot of arguments about nothing. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. It's over.'
She smiled nervously. 'What about you?'
'Huh?'
'I mean, are you in a relationship?'
'No,' Luka said. 'No I'm not.'
Luka looked at her and she smiled. It was still a shy smile, but was unforced and genuinely warm. He noticed how her smile heightened her cheekbones and the way the warmth of it spread to her eyes. She saw him studying her closely and she blushed slightly. He admired the way it brightened her pale skin. Luka found himself remembering all the reasons he had found her so attractive the night he had met her in this same bar. Upon realising that he was still watching her, he quickly turned away. His rational mind told him he should leave now, but he made no move to do so. He instinctively knew that if he suggested they leave together she would not refuse him, and yet he couldn't help but feel she would be left with a different idea of their situation. Making his excuses now would be the only way to ensure he didn't end up hurting her, and after their short but oddly intimate conversation the thought of doing that pained him even more so.
Luka stood up abruptly and she looked up at him surprised. Her eyes questioning.
'Have you eaten?' He asked.
Luka froze when he saw her. About a hundred yards away and walking in the opposite direction. Only short glimpses of dark hair cascading over a scarlet red coat as she weaved in and out of the bustling crowd, and yet it was unmistakably her. He began to run. Pushing his way through swarms of people, unselfconsciously calling to her. Seeing that he had already halved the distance between them he shouted her name as loud as he could. She didn't turn. Nobody turned. Even as he forced them aside violently the people seemed unaware of him, unaware of anyone else as they hurried away. Shoving his way through, he momentarily paused as a woman fell to the floor. She picked herself up and carried on without a glance at him. As he looked up he was startled to find she was no longer there. She had disappeared, having been only yards away from him, and now the street was deserted. He was standing completely alone, and with only a quick glance up at the houses which lined either side of the road, he instinctively knew that they too were void of life. He began to cry.
Luka was woken by the sound of soft moaning. He lifted himself up onto his elbows and squinted in the darkness at the motionless form occupying the other half of the bed. As his eyes adjusted he could see her sleeping calmly. He fell back down onto the pillow and felt it's dampness against his cheek. Had he imagined the sounds? Dreamed them? Or had he been making them? As his mind began to recall vague, slightly disturbing images from the dream, Luka quickly decided against it and squeezed his eyes closed tightly, shutting out the memories. When he opened them again he studied the familiar surroundings. He was pleased to note that it was her bed they were lying in, having recalled a time in the evening when she had suggested they go back to his. Had she been thinking the same thoughts as he had? He couldn't leave in the night if they were at his place. He rolled onto his side and looked at her. She lay on her back, her hair splayed across the pillow. Her face was turned towards him slightly and she was in a deep, restful sleep. He tried to remember what that felt like, but failed. He wondered what it was that allowed a person to sleep so calmly. Was it happiness? She hadn't seemed happy. Maybe it was a clear conscience. That was another thing he beginning to lose the memory of entirely. Well, whatever the reason, he knew he would not sleep again tonight.
He glanced at the clock on the beside table behind her. 2.49. He rose and dressed.
He stood at the end of the bed and watched her sleeping. So calm. So still. If it hadn't been for her soft, steady breathing he might have wanted to check her pulse. For a few minutes he stood there, watching her, unable to pull himself away. She looked so beautiful as she slept.
He was careful to close the door quietly as he left.
