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Kyne looked at her, sympathy in his eyes. "But after everything, trust is broken. It's not easy to mend."
Delilah sighed, her gaze distant. "I know. And I don't want to make things worse for her. She deserves to find her own path, away from the chaos we've caused."
It was a side of Delilah I hadn't seen before, her usual confidence replaced by vulnerability and regret. It was clear she cared deeply for Bel, and the loss of that relationship weighed heavily on her.
Mairia came in at that point and began to hang all over Delilah, who looked irritated at first, but then seemed to give up and turned to kiss her. Kyne made his exit out to the club, and so did I.
As the evening fell and La Societe de la Nuit began to stir with life, I found myself restless, yearning for something beyond the ethereal existence I was confined to. Watching the patrons file in, I searched for an opportunity, a chance to feel something tangible again.
Then I saw him – a man, already staggering from too much drink, his consciousness teetering on the edge of blacking out. I hesitated, the morality of my next action weighing heavily on me. But the desire to be more than just a specter, to interact with Rowan in a way I hadn't been able to, was overpowering.
I slipped into his body, feeling the strange sensation of physicality wrapping around me. It was disorienting, yet exhilarating. With this borrowed body, I had a plan.
I pulled out the man's phone, clumsily navigating to Rowan's contact. My voice, strange and unfamiliar, formed the words. "Rowan, it's Rayze. Can we meet?"
There was a pause, then a cautious acceptance. "Sure, where?"
"A cafe near your place. I'll explain everything when I see you."
Hanging up, I felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety. I made my way to the cafe, my borrowed limbs awkward and heavy.
Sitting at a table, I watched Rowan enter, their eyes scanning the room. When they spotted me, there was a moment of disbelief. "Is that really you, Rayze?" Rowan asked, approaching with cautious steps.
"Yes, it's me," I replied, the words feeling odd in my mouth.
"How are you doing this?" Rowan's voice was a mix of awe and unease.
I explained about the possession, how the man was already passed out, and my intention to return him safely. "I'll make sure he's back where he belongs by morning."
Rowan looked uncomfortable, the moral implications clear on their face. I reached out, taking their hand in an awkward, human gesture. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to do this. To touch you."
Their hand felt warm and alive in mine, a stark contrast to the coldness of my usual existence. Rowan's eyes softened, a complex mix of emotions playing across their face.
"Rayze, this is... I don't know. It's a lot," they said, their voice low.
I nodded, understanding their discomfort. "I know. It's not something I do lightly. But I needed to see you like this, just once."
We sat in silence for a moment, the hum of the cafe around us. Then, making a decision, I asked, "Do you want to go back to the club? Dance one more time, while we can actually touch?"
Rowan hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Okay, let's do it."
We left the cafe, the night air cool against our skin. Walking to the club, I felt every step, every breath, acutely aware of the borrowed time I was living.
As we entered La Societe de la Nuit, the music enveloped us, the club's energy pulsing around us. We moved to the dance floor, our bodies finding the rhythm together.
Dancing with Rowan, feeling their hand in mine, their body against mine, was surreal. It was a fleeting taste of life, a momentary escape from my eternal specter existence.
As the night wore on, the reality of what I had done weighed heavily on me. I knew this couldn't last, that I would have to return to my ghostly form. But for now, I savored every moment, every touch, every shared glance with Rowan.
It was a night of impossible dreams, a stolen moment in time. And as the music played on, I knew these memories would haunt me, a bittersweet reminder of what I could never truly have.
Chapter Six - Rowan
The bass throbbed through my body, each beat resonating with my heartbeat as I danced with Rayze. It was bizarre, this mix of exhilaration and unease. I couldn't see Rayze, not really. It was just this guy he'd possessed, a stand-in for the ghost I was inexplicably drawn to.
"Fuck, this is weird," I muttered under my breath, closing my eyes to better focus on Rayze's presence. The warmth of the body against mine wasn't his, but somehow, it felt like it was. My skin tingled with every contact, a strange cocktail of desire and confusion.
"Rowan," Rayze's voice, rough and unfamiliar from the stranger's throat, broke through the pounding music. "You okay with this?"
