Olu Fashola & Indri Farrugia
The city’s buzz was a distant hum as Olu settled himself on the rooftop, the night cool and damp, the sky darkening as a thin layer of clouds drifted past. From here, the city lights sprawled out in all directions, sharp edges of buildings cutting into the night, yellow and white dots flickering in the distance like a long string of dim, endless stars.
Indri had told him to meet her here at midnight. Olu wasn’t sure if she’d actually show or if this was just another game of hers, a way of teasing him, testing how far he’d go. But he came anyway, drawn to her pull the way he’d once been drawn to the night itself, to all things that felt both dangerous and alluring.
He glanced at the door, a barely perceptible smirk twisting his mouth as he thought of her. Indri was one of the few people who could stir him out of his usual indifference. He found himself wondering about her in ways that surprised him, like a puzzle he’d been trying to solve for too long, one that shifted the rules the moment he thought he had her figured out.
His hands slipped into his pockets, fingers finding the edges of his lighter, and he flicked it on, watching the tiny flame dance in the dark. It cast a warm glow over his face, a brief comfort against the vast chill of the night. He was about to turn away, maybe wander down to the street to get a coffee and think of a hundred things he’d rather be doing, when he heard the creak of the rooftop door swinging open.
Indri stepped out like a shadow come to life, the city lights catching her in fragments—a sliver of light on her cheek, a flash on the hem of her jacket. She was calm, her movements purposeful but unhurried, as though she knew exactly the effect her arrival would have. She caught his eye, her mouth curving into a sly smile as she sauntered over to him.
“Thought you’d be gone by now,” she murmured, her voice low and smooth, carrying easily over the open air.
Olu tilted his head, smirking. “Thought I’d give you a chance to be punctual for once,” he shot back, not quite able to hide the amusement in his voice.
She let out a soft laugh, her gaze lingering on him. She was close now, close enough that he could catch a faint hint of something floral in her perfume, something that made his thoughts stray just a little too far from where he wanted them to be. There was always this electric hum around Indri, like she could shift the whole world with a look if she felt like it.
They stood there in silence for a moment, the city sprawled out beneath them, vast and pulsing. It was one of those moments that felt like it could stretch forever, like the weight of everything they hadn’t said was hovering right there, waiting to shatter the stillness.
“You didn’t have to come,” she said finally, her voice softer now, almost hesitant.
He shrugged, glancing away. “I had nothing better to do.”
Indri arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Right. So it’s boredom keeping you here in the middle of the night?”
“Maybe,” he replied, a smirk ghosting over his lips. But there was no edge to his tone, just a quiet tension that made him want to say more, but not here, not now. Instead, he took a step back, leaning against the cold railing, eyes fixed on her.
Indri took a few steps closer, her gaze holding his like a dare. She was the kind of woman who seemed like she was always testing you, as if daring you to say something stupid, or better yet, something true. Her hair was pulled back tonight, a few loose strands framing her face, and he could see the lines of tension in her shoulders, the kind she carried well but couldn’t quite hide.
“What’s with you, Fashola?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning back, her eyes sharp. “Why do you act like you’ve got the world figured out, but still stand around on rooftops like you’re waiting for it to come crashing down?”
Olu’s smirk faded. He didn’t answer right away, letting her question hang in the air between them, heavy and unsaid. His gaze drifted to the lights beyond them, to the city, the buzzing chaos he’d known all his life. He could feel her watching him, her gaze a weight he couldn’t quite shake.
“Maybe I like high places,” he said finally, his voice low. “It’s easier to see things for what they are from up here.”
Indri gave him a long look, her eyes narrowing slightly, like she was trying to see past the walls he’d built so carefully. He didn’t break the gaze, but he felt the tension in his chest tightening, as if the silence was giving her access to all the things he’d rather keep hidden.
“Look,” she said, her voice quieter now, “I didn’t come here to psychoanalyze you, Olu. I’m just saying… it’s like you’re always one step out of reach.”
He raised an eyebrow, his smirk creeping back despite himself. “And here I thought you liked the chase.”
She laughed, a sharp, quiet sound, but there was no humor in her eyes. She was studying him, as if weighing something, and he could feel himself caught under her gaze in a way that made him want to look away, even though he didn’t.
“Why are you always trying to play games with me, Olu?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He felt his jaw tighten, and for a moment, he let himself meet her gaze without the usual guard. “Maybe it’s not a game,” he said, his tone a bit rougher than he intended.
Indri’s expression softened, and for the first time, he thought he saw something vulnerable there, something that went deeper than the usual walls she kept so tightly in place. She took a step closer, her hand brushing his as she leaned against the railing next to him, their arms almost touching.
“Why’d you come, Indri?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the question one he’d been holding onto for too long.
She hesitated, her gaze slipping away from his. For a moment, she looked almost uncertain, her fingers tapping lightly against the metal railing as if she were gathering her thoughts.
“Because…” She trailed off, her voice catching. She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, her gaze returning to his, steady and unyielding. “Because maybe I thought there’d be something here tonight. Something real.”
Her words lingered between them, heavy and raw, and he could feel the air shift, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on him. He didn’t respond right away, his mind racing, but he didn’t look away either. There was no smirk now, no easy deflection, just the two of them standing there, the silence like a live wire between them.
Without thinking, he reached out, his fingers brushing hers where they rested on the railing. It was a small, tentative gesture, one that felt strangely vulnerable, but he didn’t pull back. He could feel her pulse against his fingertips, quick and steady, and for a moment, it was like the world had narrowed down to just this, just her.
Indri looked down at their hands, her gaze softening. She didn’t pull away, but her fingers didn’t close over his, either, and he could feel the hesitation, the uncertainty, the fear that they were both too stubborn to admit.
“Olu,” she murmured, her voice a soft, fragile thing in the dark, “if you’re going to push me away, do it now.”
Her words were a challenge, one that cut through him in a way he hadn’t expected. He felt his heart pounding, the weight of her gaze pressing down on him, and he knew he had two choices: let her go or let her in. But he couldn’t seem to move, couldn’t seem to let her slip away.
“Maybe I don’t want to,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his, and for a brief, electric moment, he thought she might kiss him. The thought made his pulse quicken, a jolt of adrenaline running through him, but before he could say anything, she leaned back, breaking the moment.
“I think you want a lot of things you won’t admit, Olu,” she said, her voice softer, almost sad. She turned to look out over the city, her gaze distant, like she was seeing something he couldn’t.
He felt a pang of frustration, a desire to reach out and pull her back to him, to make her see whatever it was he couldn’t put into words. But he stayed silent, watching her as the wind tugged at her hair, her face a mask of calm that hid everything she was feeling.
“You’re not the only one with demons,” he said finally, his voice low, the words more of a confession than he’d intended.
Indri looked over at him, her gaze softening. She didn’t say anything, but her hand drifted over to his again, this time her fingers curling around his, a quiet acceptance that said more than words could.
For a long time, they stood there, side by side, their hands intertwined as the city sprawled out below them, vast and indifferent. The silence was no longer heavy, no longer tense, but something warm, something fragile, something that felt like it could be broken at any moment but held steady nonetheless.
And for once, Olu didn’t feel like running. For once, he didn’t feel like he had to.