Doomed - Charles Leclerc

4

-Aurora-

The first light of morning slipped through the curtains, gently nudging Aurora awake. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced around the room, taking in her surroundings. With a sigh, she quietly slipped off the couch, determined to find some running clothes. It was time for her to get to know Monaco, again...

Padding around the unfamiliar space, she rifled through drawers until she found a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt that seemed suitable. Getting dressed, she tiptoed out, not wanting to disturb Charles. Where would her running shoes be? As she walked over to the walk in closet, she finally found multiple options of running shoes. Jeez, since when did she have so many running shoes?

The streets of Monaco greeted her with a familiarity that defied explanation as she jogged through them. The rhythmic sound of her footsteps echoed against the cobblestones, a cadence that felt instinctive, like tracing a path etched into her very being. Running through Monaco felt natural, the twists and turns of the streets a comforting embrace. Despite the absence of clear memories, each landmark she passed evoked a subtle sense of recognition, a muscle memory that guided her steps.

The harbor, with its bustling yet serene ambiance, drew her like a magnet. Breathing in the salty air, she paused, taking in the familiar sights and sounds. Before she could dwell too long on the puzzling familiarity, she decided to treat herself to a refreshing smoothie.

The smoothie place nestled snugly at the edge of Monaco's harbor was a charming, sunlit oasis. Its exterior, a symphony of coastal colors, boasted a wooden facade painted in pastel hues of seafoam green and coral pink. The quaint cafe radiated a laid-back yet inviting vibe, drawing attention with its large, clear windows that allowed the morning sun to stream in, casting a golden glow upon the seaside setting.

Approaching the counter, she ordered a mango smoothie. As she stepped outside, lost in thought, she collided with someone—a collision that startled her out of her reverie.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted out, looking up to meet a pair of eyes that she recognized.

Charles stood before her, a mixture of surprise and concern etched on his face. "Lora, are you alright?"

Aurora's breath caught in her throat.

"I, eh, yes" she stuttered, still surprised she bumped into him.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Charles admitted, a hint of uncertainty coloring his words.

"I... ended up here by coincidence," she replied.

He seemed taken aback by her response. "Are you sure?" Charles's eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if trying to process the revelation.

"Yes," she affirmed, though her certainty wavered slightly. "I went for a run and ended up here."

Aurora sipped her smoothie, the taste a bittersweet reminder of the life she couldn't entirely recall. She glanced at Charles, noticing a trace of hesitation in his gaze.

"Can we... talk?" he asked tentatively, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

Aurora hesitated, she wasn't sure if she was ready for this conversation, but a part of her yearned for answers. "Okay," she replied softly, gesturing toward a nearby bench overlooking the harbor.

They settled onto the bench, the quiet of the early morning enveloping them as the sun continued its ascent in the sky. For a moment, neither of them spoke, each lost in their thoughts. The tension between them felt both familiar and foreign, a paradox that mirrored Aurora's fragmented memories.

"I didn't expect to find you here," Charles began, his voice tentative. "It's... a place that reminds me of us."

Aurora's heart skipped a beat at his words. "Us?"

He nodded, his eyes holding a mixture of regret and longing. "We used to come here together, after our morning runs. You always order a mango smoothie."

Aurora's eyes widened in surprise. She took a sip of her own mango smoothie, the taste triggering a faint sense of familiarity. "I do?"

Charles nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes. It was your favorite."

"It still is," she admitted.

"I'm glad that hasn't changed," he said as he shot her a sweet smile.

"I... I don't remember," she admitted softly. "Coming here together, coming here at all, I don't remember."

"I know," Charles replied, his voice gentle. "But you ending up here by accident gives me hope, Lora."

Aurora glanced around the serene surroundings, the harbor bustling with life in the early morning. She felt a tug of something intangible, a whisper of connection teasing the edges of her consciousness.

"It's strange," she murmured, more to herself than to Charles. "Everything feels both distant and familiar at the same time."

Charles nodded in understanding. "I wish I could help you remember. But I also want you to feel comfortable exploring your memories on your own terms."

Aurora sighed, a mix of frustration and gratitude swirling within her. "I just wish... I wish I knew what happened to me, why I can't remember."

"I wish I had answers for you," Charles confessed, his gaze searching hers. "But what matters now is that you're here, you're safe, and we have a chance to... figure things out."

A silence fell between them, punctuated only by the sounds of the harbor—seagulls cawing in the distance and the gentle lapping of water against the docks. Aurora glanced at Charles, feeling a complex web of emotions—confusion, curiosity, and an inexplicable pull toward this man who felt both familiar and enigmatic.

"Thank you," she finally said, meeting his gaze with a mixture of uncertainty and resolve. "For being patient with me."

He offered a small, understanding smile. "Always."

As they sat there, a sense of quiet understanding settled between them. The morning sun bathed the harbor in a warm glow, casting a sense of hope upon the uncertain path that lay ahead. In the quiet of that moment, amidst the remnants of forgotten memories and the promise of new beginnings, Aurora and Charles found a tentative connection—a thread of familiarity woven into the fabric of their uncertain journey.

This man, who had always annoyed her when she was younger, did not have that effect anymore. As he sipped his own mango smoothie, she studied him carefully. In the orange morning light and the afterglow of his run, she could objectively admit that she understood why she fell for him.