Scarlett Johansson x Female Reader Imagines

jet lag pt.2

As soon as we stepped into the vacant elevator, she let go of my hand. I only realized how much I would miss the sensation of it in mine until then. My arms were crossed in front of my chest as I tried to catch the remaining warmth of her hand, hoping that they would last till I could tattoo the feeling inside my brain. Contrastingly, she leaned against the wall of the elevator nonchalantly. She hummed the tune of my favorite song when we were descending from the highest floor. I joined in while tapping my foot to the beat. With the accompaniment of the percussion, she sang out the lyrics wholeheartedly and eventually moved her body along the flow. She invited me to go along with her until I finally took her hand unwillingly. She took me around the compact space in the elevator while her gaze remained locked on me. That was when I decided to let go - let go of my worries, my tiredness, my restraint. Together, we danced to the music coming out of our mouths as if the flashing red light on the surveillance camera was just a decoration.

Initially, I was ready for the opening elevator door to burst the protective bubble we created for just the two of us. Surprisingly and gladly, it didn't. Instead, she slipped her hand into mine and dragged me towards the lobby, darting towards the main entrance of the hotel, escaping into the night. It was 2 am, the streets of this small town were lifeless as the sky drew its tranquilizing black curtain. Cars and other vehicles rested along the curbs, resting and waiting for their master to start their engines again when the sun rises. Buildings anchored by the side of the road lost their vibrancy as no one was admiring them. Most windows were pitch black, aiding the people on the other side of them to sleep and dream peacefully. Only the two of us were wide awake and running freely down the street, hand in hand, smiling wide to welcome the cool crisp air kissing our faces.

She turned her head back occasionally, making sure that I had fun. Whenever I showed her a satisfied smile as a hint that I was enjoying the journey, she replied with a bigger, brighter, beaming smile. Of course, I was. I had never felt so carefree yet passionate, so calm yet so excited, so unsure yet so utterly believe in her. We were running like two reckless teenagers, throwing our responsibilities away, making impulsive decisions. There was no competition, no worry about pace, technical apparel, shoes. We ran just for the sake of getting away and finding peace of mind. Even though I had no idea where we were heading to, I still put my best bet on her.

Every time she turned around and smiled while dragging me around the town, nothing else seemed to matter anymore. I allowed her to lead, to make commands, and trusted her explicitly with my safety and my life. I became one with her. When she turned, I turned. She went straight, I went straight. She sped up, I sped up. She slowed down, I slowed down. But we never stopped. Nothing, not even an obstacle that showed up out of nowhere, not even a strong blow of wind, not even the darkness that only hid itself from time to time when there was flickering streetlight or the mellow moonlight, could hold us back. It was like stopping would cost our lives, as if we had only the night to live, as if we had no time to waste.

I had no idea where did I find the goddamn trust and courage to let the lady who I just met a few minutes ago lead me to God knows where but something was telling me that that was the right choice. She guided me along the sidewalk where it was dimly lit by the streetlight, crossing the empty street where cars would rarely pass by during this witching hour, snaking through the backstreets that only the locals know where do they lead to. I could not help but wonder how she knew the ins and outs of this town. Did somebody bring her here once? Did she explore this place herself? Or was she just following her intuition all along?

Finally, I knew where she was leading me too. We were running to the outskirts of town, to the beach — the beach that was usually flooded with humans during the day. As the night fell, the beach transitioned itself to an imperturbable, oddly placid dimension. No human's chit-chatting voice, no boat engine revving up noise, no seagulls wail. Only the sound of waves crashing onto the shore, leaving seashells dispersed along the shoreline, the boats hitting each other rhythmically as they were raised and lowered by the waves, the laughter of two lost souls who finally found each other in a foreign land or two idiots who had run for 20 minutes before coming to a rest.