Daylight || Ronnie & Ivan
Ivan hadn't realized how quickly real life could settle in. He supposed the past three months had been real life, too... It had just seemed like it's own bubble, like a separate time line from the life that they both had left here in Oxford. Of course, Ivan had only been in Oxford for a little under a month when he decided to take off to New Orleans; Ronnie had been escaping much more than he had.
He honestly hadn't expected any of what had happened to actually happen. The original plan was to go to New Orleans for three weeks. One week was dedicated to a music festival that Ivan and his band had been invited to perform in, and then two weeks to just... Be a tourist. He'd ended up inviting Ronnie because she needed to escape; and because she was his friend. It was just supposed to be an escape for her, a little bit of therapy in the sense that she didn't have to deal with the bullshit going on in her life.
It had turned into so, so much more.
Drinks after performances in dark bars where they were wholly too close to each other had ended up in longing gazes and dirty dancing... And that had led to the clash of mouths and tongues that preceded clothes being (almost literally) torn off. From that point on, things changed. Eyes lingered, smiles became more frequent, hands were held... Ivan felt connected to someone for the first time since Harper. And it was... amazing.
He'd written songs for and about her, he'd serenaded her every night, and they'd spent the last two months of the trip like a lovesick couple on their honeymoon. The problem? This life in New Orleans couldn't last forever. And one day they'd looked at each other and known it was time to go back to real life.
The drive back from New Orleans was long, but it was all too short for the two of them. Ivan clutched her hand for most of the ride home, as if holding on to the last lingering moments of the world that was so easy for them. Because he didn't know how things were going to go once they got back. And after dropping the guys off at the house, he'd pulled out of the driveway and headed back towards where Ronnie lived.
It wasn't until he pulled up in front of the house that he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. His grip on her hand tightened and he turned off the car before looking over to her. Their eyes met, and he knew that she was thinking the same things he was. The silence that hung in the air was so thick and tense that you could cut it with a knife. And so, without much thought, he released her hand and let it come up to hook behind her neck and then slid over to her, pressing his lips against hers.
It was passionate, but tender. Longing, but sad. When he pulled back just an inch, he pressed his forehead to hers and kept his eyes closed. "I don't know where this leaves us..." he said, his fingers now twisting into her dark hair. His eyes finally opened to meet hers and he let out a shaky breath before smiling, "Fuck it, let's just go back to New Orleans." He chuckled a bit, hoping she'd catch his drift.