Dissonance of Desire

Chapter Eleven

2:14 AM.

I was on my couch, wearing a hoodie that didn’t belong to me. Obviously, it smelled like Tristan. And another obviously, I hated how comforting it was.

Nagtext siya.

Tristan:
“gising ka pa?”

Azalea:
“hindi. multo ‘tong kausap mo.”

Tristan:
“tara, drive tayo. ayokong matulog.”

God knows I should’ve ignored that.
Pero ang sagot ko?

Azalea:
“saan tayo?”

Now here we are—on the rooftop of some condo owned by a friend of his.

The city’s a blur of lights below us. No words. Just silence and the faint glow from his cigarette.

He exhaled. “Do you ever think about what happens after all this?”

“After what?” I asked, hugging my knees.

“After fame, after the spotlight, after… whatever this is between us.”

I looked at him. Just a profile bathed in smoke and neon.

Medyo natahimik ako. I looked at him, sa gilid ng mukha niya habang nakatingin siya sa langit.

“Akala ko ba no-attachments?” I said, half-joking, half-praying he’d drop it.

He smirked. “Yeah. But sometimes, I wonder about the what-ifs.”

A pause. Then—

“What if we met before all this? Before your scripts and my setlists?”

I snorted. “Baka hindi rin kita pinansin.”

Tumawa siya, but it was hollow. Like he knew that would’ve been safer.

“I don’t want to ruin this,” he whispered.

“Then don’t,” I said. “Let’s not define it. Let’s just… be in it.”

We let the silence stretch. Then he leaned his head on my shoulder. No innuendo. No prelude. Just him, resting. Like he needed that second more than air.

And that terrified me more than any kiss.

Because it felt real.

Pagkababa namin mula rooftop, he glanced at me.

“Gutom ka ba?”

“It’s three-freaking-AM.”

“Perfect. May bukas pang lugawan.”

I blinked. “You’re taking me to lugaw like it’s a five-star date?”

“Excuse me,” sabi niya, placing a hand on his chest. “Lugaw is love.”

So we sat on plastic chairs, steam rising from our bowls. May pusa sa ilalim ng mesa at konting amoy ng tambutso sa hangin.

“Dito ba napupunta lahat ng successful bar owners at film stars sa disoras ng gabi?” tanong ko habang inaayos ang buhok ko, clearly annoyed by humidity.

“Dito napupunta ‘yung mga taong ayaw matulog dahil baka panaginipan nila ‘yung gusto nilang kalimutan.”

Tahimik ako. Natigilan. Because same.

I met his gaze.

Too long. Too honest.

“‘Wag mo akong tingnan ng ganyan.”