"Then she smiled, that smile that only comes from a woman who has chosen to face things, and said with quiet confidence that cut through the silence: 'If you want me with you... I will be that hope that absorbs the storm until it calms.'"
Rina and Sera sat on Sera's bed, the room bathed in a soft glow from a small table lamp, casting warm colors on the walls. The window overlooked the city, alive with its lights, as if the sky whispered its secrets through a shimmering star.
Rina looked at her sister with eyes full of worry. "Aiden... have you met him before?"
Sera sighed, her gaze fixed on her sister's face. "The police officer on the bus... you remember him, don't you?"
Eileen suddenly interjected, sitting on the doorstep, looking stunned as if she'd heard something strange and unbelievable. "Sera... the police officer? The man with the Lamborghini Huracán Evo?" She looked at her sharply, as if trying to understand what was happening, then added, "What's going on with you, girl?"
Sera was silent for a moment, looking at the ground as if reordering her thoughts. Then she looked at Rina and said in a low voice mixed with confusion, "Who is Aiden really, Rina?"
Eileen smiled with childish admiration, as if hearing a musical name calling to her. "Aiden... a name that truly fits."
Sera gazed out the balcony, watching the city lights blend with the sparkle of stars in the sky, the distant sound of the streets like a musical backdrop to her thoughts. She said in a voice almost choked with emotion, "Aiden..."
Then she continued in a hushed tone, almost a secret confession, "A storm... a storm I loved."
She looked directly at her sister, her eyes filled with a sea of memories, and spoke words that pierced the silence: "I looked into his eyes... his eyes that tell a thousand stories, his eyelashes, his hair that played with the breeze, his scent that filled my soul with warmth, and his smile that paved my way in the darkness of nights. I was filled with all his details overnight, and Aiden became a part of my life... a part I cannot give up."
Rina sighed deeply, as if trying to balance emotions and reality, then said with a sad smile, "The girl is drowning... drowning in her feelings."
But her tone quickly changed, becoming sharp and serious, her words echoing as if carrying the weight of the world: "But he is broken, Sera... broken inside. Can you really save him? Save someone the whole world failed to save?"
At that moment, Aiden stood before a mirror, adjusting the collar of his dark police uniform with the discipline befitting someone who allowed no randomness to infiltrate his demeanor. The lamp's light reflected on his black earring, which swayed lightly beneath his ear, like a seal of his sharp style. His black hair fell in neat strands across his forehead, adding to the coldness of his gaze.
He ran his hand over his chest to ensure his metal badge was secured, then left. Inside the elevator, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to Sera. An automated voice announced, "Ground floor," followed by a slight tremor.
He exited with steady, taut steps, as if going to command a storm. He put on his black helmet, and then the roar of his motorcycle engine echoed, a deep growl like a predator just awakened from its slumber. The motorcycle sped past the city lights, and between his eyes was a storm... forming, growing, and preparing to strike.
Shortly after, he stood before an old lodge surrounded by police cars from every direction. Their red and blue lights reflected the tension of the situation, dancing on his face like a pre-storm warning. He dismounted his motorcycle, slowly removed his helmet, adjusted his hair, and then put on his black fingerless gloves.
He advanced toward the lodge entrance, his steps quiet but carrying an unseen weight. Before he reached it, a familiar voice stopped him, soft but sarcastic:
"Aiden? What drives a beast like you, who loves predation, to be here? And in this uniform?"
Aiden stopped without turning, then gave a slight, wry smile, like a gentle scratch on a wall of coldness, and replied in a low voice:
"Arin."
Then he turned to him with sharp eyes and added:
"And the real question... why is a doctor, who is supposed to be busy saving lives, staying in a suspicious lodge?"
Arin appeared amidst the glare of the lights, his brown hair swaying in the wind, and his green eyes gleaming under the tense scene's light, wearing a single metal earring in his left ear.
He replied with a warm smile, but one that hid something deeper:
"I'm a doctor, as you know. I was working abroad and just returned. Tomorrow I move to my new apartment and the hospital where I will start my work."
Aiden shook his head slightly, a quick look filled with rejection:
"Then, I hope we don't meet again, Arin."
Arin laughed softly, as if the phrase hadn't penetrated his barrier, then said in a calm tone:
"Don't worry... I didn't miss seeing you anyway."
Then he turned his back, his steps slow as if trying not to awaken something in his heart. With each step, his voice faded until almost no one could hear it, but he mumbled a word that came out like a small bleed:
"...Brother."
He didn't turn. And he didn't stop.
But the air changed. And the moment froze in place.
As for Aiden, he remained standing, his features frozen, save for a slight tremor that crossed his gaze... then he hid it, as he always did.
Aiden advanced towards the lodge manager's desk with slow, measured steps, as if controlling the room's pulse. The floor creaked softly under his heavy boots. The light from the hanging lamp swayed slightly above the desk, breaking its shadows across the face of the man seated behind it, as if outlining his fear line by line.
The man was bald, wearing a shirt tightly buttoned at the neck, sweating profusely, his eyes avoiding direct contact with the visitor.
Aiden sat in the leather chair opposite, his back straight. He interlaced his fingers, resting his elbow on the armrest, placing his face on his palm as if observing a work of art in which he held neither mercy nor wonder.
He spoke in a low voice, with a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes:
"Don't worry, I'm not the villain in this story, sir... I won't force you to say what you're afraid of... but I just... prefer you tell the truth with your own tongue, not under duress."
He paused for a moment, then leaned slightly forward:
"What do you say... we go together? To that place where you buried your fish. The place that hung you by your soul until you forgot who you are."
Aiden smiled, but in his smile was a cold cruelty:
"I know you're a good man deep down, or you used to be... So, would you prefer the police interrogate you? Or confess now... and return, even a little, to the features of that old person in you? Tell me, was the lives of children and teenagers a cheap game in your hands?"
The manager trembled, words cracking in his throat, as if falling out unuttered:
"I... I swear I didn't mean to. I just... couldn't go back. I was... the desires of this world led me, the lights seduced me... everything seemed easy at first."
Aiden raised an eyebrow, rested his cheek on his palm again, and looked at him with amusement:
"And... was it delicious? That life that ate you piece by piece?"
Silence ensued.
Then he continued in a low voice, like an ancient incantation:
"Life, my friend... is a labyrinth. Every corner sets a trap for you... And you? You fell into the first trap and thought it was salvation. It's sweet, yes... but its sweetness is demonic. And each of us fell in our own way. The important thing now... is to fix what remains."
The manager slowly raised his head, looking at Aiden as if what he had said had awakened him from a long nightmare. Then he stood with heavy steps and said in a broken voice:
"Follow me... I'll lead you to the place. I don't want to die with this burden on my conscience."
Moments later, the police approached the manager, their hands cuffing his trembling wrists. He was breathing with difficulty, his gaze fixed on Aiden, as if there was something yet unsaid.
The man said in a hoarse voice, filled with brokenness and regret: "I... I never wanted to forget my humanity... but..."
Before he could finish, Aiden approached with quiet steps, their impact seeming to silence all other sounds in the room. He placed his hand on the collapsing man's shoulder; his hand was strangely warm, unlike the usual coolness of his presence.
He said in a soft voice, with a rare tenderness: "Don't worry... you're on the right path now. Just think that you're fixing a mistake you made, not running from it."
His voice carried a mix of truth and hope, as if he knew that sin cannot be erased, but it can be faced.
Then he slowly lowered his hand, and his eyes... his black eyes, interwoven with a faint blue, like a piece of the moonlit night sky, lost their strict brilliance for a moment. They turned into a calm sea... no waves, no wind, just heavy stillness.
In that stillness, a fleeting memory flashed: damp darkness, rusting chains on a stone floor, and the sound of the iron door closing on a small boy trapped in the basement... his foster father's voice receding, leaving him there to "purify" himself of a sin he never knew.
Arin's voice cut through that memory, as he stood beside him, his voice calm with a hint of a smile: "Aiden... are you with us? I can't believe you sympathized with the man."
Aiden blinked, returning to reality, then raised an eyebrow with a sarcastic side smile, shaking off the sadness for a moment, and said with feigned sarcasm: "Hmm... I have a strange ritual. Every time I catch a criminal, I go offline for a few moments... because I'm... sad."
Arin let out a soft laugh, with a touch of nostalgia, and said: "I think you're still the same... crazy."
Aiden turned his back, slowly putting on his helmet, as if it were a mask hiding what lay beneath. Then he looked at Arin out of the corner of his eye and said in a low, but decisive voice: "Let's not meet often... Arin."
Then the roar of his motorcycle echoed again, piercing the silence of the place like the growl of a wounded animal, and the city lights reflected on his back as he rode away... like a shadow that leaves no trace, yet leaves an impact on souls.
Meanwhile, Arin got into his metallic gray Audi A5 Sportback, which reflected the dancing neon lights on the asphalt. He closed the door quietly as if the sound dissolved into the silence of the night. The car drove off smoothly, as if whispering to the road rather than driving on it. At that moment, time seemed to be chasing him, trying to catch up before he disappeared into the city's labyrinths.
On the opposite side, the roar of Aiden's motorcycle cut through the stillness, a deep, rough sound like an awakened beast. Despite the contradiction, there was a strange harmony between the elegant car's sound and the wild motorcycle's, like a duet between two contrasting notes – one gliding on a piano, the other striking the strings of anger.
City lights poured around them – neon blue, stark yellow, faint purple – as if someone had painted the city night with electric dyes, and the street became a canvas, and they its moving lines. In the background, sounds faded, while the image took over: a car and a motorcycle moving in different directions, yet sharing the same silence laden with unspoken secrets.
Everything at that moment seemed to carry a hidden melody... a melody that concealed a story told only to those who listened in silence.