Another Night

A knock came at midnight, echoing through the quiet house. Leo stirred awake, frowning as he pushed himself up from the couch. Nobody ever arrived at this hour.

When he opened the door, Maria stumbled inside. Her makeup was smeared, her eyes red, and before he could say anything, she collapsed against his shoulders, her body shaking with sobs. The sharp, heavy scent of wine clung to her breath, mingling with the faint trace of her perfume, now faded and sour with despair.

He steadied her, half-carrying her to the couch in a gentle, almost protective embrace before setting her down. Her hands clutched at his shirt as she hiccupped through her words, forcing them out between tears.

“The projector didn’t work,” she rasped. “For twenty minutes, Leo. I tried everything—switching cables, plugging into another port, even getting the IT guys to rush in. Nothing. Twenty minutes of silence in front of the shareholders.”

Leo sat beside her, his silence a steady anchor as she unraveled.

“And when it finally worked… the numbers were awful. Shareholders fought, the boss glared—and then he yelled at me. Called me useless, said it was my fault.” Her voice broke, raw and jagged. “He dragged me aside and fired me. Just like that.”

Her eyes brimmed with fury as much as tears. “And when I begged him, he smiled. Said if I wanted to keep working there, I should ‘be useful in other ways.’ When I refused and threatened to sue, he leaned in and whispered, ‘Try me. Your job isn't the only thing to go missing.’”

Her voice cracked, trembling. “…and then he fired me.”

“Why didn’t you come earlier?” Leo asked carefully, not pressing too hard.

Maria’s bitter laugh cut through the quiet. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. Didn’t want you to know I’m such a mess. But when the drinks ran empty, I… I just came.”

Leo exhaled, words hovering on his tongue but left unspoken. Instead, he rose and slipped into the kitchen. The sound of running water was soft, steady, like a lullaby against the silence. He peeled ginger with slow, deliberate strokes, the sharp, comforting scent rising into the air.

By the time he returned, the bowl in his hands glowed like a lantern, steaming tendrils unfurling between them. He set it on the table before her, and when her trembling fingers fumbled the spoon, he gently took her hand, wrapping it around the handle.

“Slowly,” he murmured.

She obeyed. The porridge settled deep inside her, as if it carried his steadiness into her bones.

“You always… do this,” she whispered, voice barely above the hush of steam. “Even when I’m falling apart.”

“You’re not falling apart,” Leo said, brushing her sleeve with his thumb. “You’re just tired. Let me carry it for now.”

After some time, her breathing returned to normal. The bowl sat empty on the table.

“Use my bedroom,” Leo said, gesturing toward the hallway. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Maria frowned, her voice stubborn though soft. “No, Leo. I’m not kicking you out of your own bed. We can… share it.”

He almost protested, but her eyes stopped him. Fragile. Raw. Needing.

“…Alright,” he conceded gently.

She managed a faint smile, heading to the bathroom. Water ran steadily, a hum in the night. Leo tidied the kitchen, letting her breathe.

When Maria emerged, the air shifted. She stood in the doorway, wrapped only in a towel, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders. The lamp caught the curve of her collarbone; the sheen of water kissed across her skin. Her red eyes burned now with something different, brimming with unspoken need.

She stepped closer.

“I don’t want to feel like this tonight,” she whispered, voice raw, cracking open. “I don’t want to feel broken. Just… make me feel something else, Leo. Please.”

Her hands pulled at his shirt—tentative, then insistent.

“Maria…” he started, torn.

But when she looked up at him, there was no hesitation in her gaze. Only need. He cupped her face, thumb brushing her cheek, and when she leaned into his hand, he kissed her.

The kiss was slow at first, tasting of ginger and salt from her tears. Then urgent. Her hands slid beneath his shirt, warm against his skin, as the towel slipped free, pooling at her feet.

His hands found her waist, tracing the curve of her hips as he drew her against him. She pressed closer, deepening the kiss, a quiet moan trembling past her lips.

They moved to the bedroom—a tangle of limbs and whispered reassurances. Maria’s fingers fumbled with his belt, eagerness shaking with vulnerability. Leo guided her gently onto the bed, his touch steady but reverent, as if afraid she might break.

She arched beneath him, her nails grazing his back as they found a rhythm. Slow at first… building with urgency. The world narrowed to heat and gasps, murmured names, the creak of the bed beneath them. Maria clung to him, breath ragged, chasing release beyond the pain of the night.

When it came, it swept through them both—quiet but intense, leaving them breathless, trembling in each other’s arms.

Afterward, tangled in the sheets, Maria rested her head on his chest, her breathing soft as sleep claimed her at last. Leo’s arm circled her, fingers idly tracing her shoulder.

The night was silent again.

He stared at the ceiling, thoughts drifting. “…What a bore,” he muttered, though his arm held her tighter.