The silence in the elevator was thick, heavy. Leo watched the numbers climb, his reflection pale in the brushed steel doors. Beside him, Maya stared straight ahead, her knuckles white where she gripped the handle of her small overnight bag. He could feel the tension vibrating off her, a low hum that matched the frantic thrumming beneath his own ribs. Suite 1408. Penthouse level. Special request.
The ding was too loud. The doors slid open onto a hushed, carpeted corridor. Their footsteps were swallowed by the plush pile as they walked the short distance to the end. Leo fumbled slightly with the key card, his fingers slick. The green light flashed, a small permissive click, and he pushed the door open.
Inside, the suite was modern, impersonal, expensive. Cool grays and whites, minimalist furniture. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the city sprawling below, lights just beginning to prick the dusk. But neither of them looked at the view. Their eyes were fixed on the far wall of the bedroom area.
It looked like a mirror. A huge, seamless sheet of dark glass taking up most of the wall opposite the king-sized bed.
Leo walked towards it, his reflection moving with him. He saw himself – tight jaw, eyes too bright, a man on the edge. He saw Maya hovering near the doorway, beautiful and terrified. He reached out, fingertips brushing the cool, unresponsive surface. Just glass. From this side.
He turned back to Maya. Her gaze flickered from the mirror to him, wide and questioning, even though they both knew the answer. They’d talked about this for months. Fantasized. Skirted around the raw, jagged edges of it. Until talk wasn’t enough. Until the wanting had become a physical ache they couldn’t ignore.
"Go check," Maya whispered, her voice thin.
Leo nodded, his throat tight. He crossed the main living area to a discreet, unmarked door beside the entryway closet. Another key card slot. Another permissive click. He pushed it open and slipped inside, pulling the doo
