The rain fell endlessly that night. It was November.
Fine, persistent, almost elegant in the way it erased the world.
Catarina climbed the stairs slowly, her heart in her mouth.
Each step sounded like hesitation.
The apartment upstairs was waiting for her, or rather, it was waiting for him.
When she pushed open the door, everything was already in place.
The fire in the fireplace.
The curtains drawn.
The piano, closed.
And Sylus, sitting in the armchair, a glass in his hand.
"You came," he said without getting up.
His voice was calm, but she could sense that it was costing him.
"Of course I came, she replied. You wanted to see me."
He nodded.
A slow, measured gesture.
Too measured.
"Catarina, we need to talk."
She had dreaded those words.
She had heard them a thousand times in her head.
But never like this.
Never with such gravity.
"Talk?" she repeated, her throat tight.
"Yes."
He put down his glass and stood up.
His footsteps on the parquet floor seemed to weigh a ton.
"What we're doing... what we're going through... it can't go on."
She took a step back.
"Why?"
"Because I'm not in control anymore."
He looked at her.
Not with anger.
Not even with sadness.
But with the quiet resignation of those who have already lost.
"Every time I see you," he said softly, I forget everything. The limits. The consequences. Everything that exists outside of you."
"And that's wrong?" she whispered.
He closed his eyes.
"Yes. Because you're the one who will end up suffering."
"And you? Do you think I'm not already suffering?"
She had moved forward, her voice broken, her hands trembling.
"You taught me to breathe differently, Sylus. You made me believe that we could erase everything, just by looking at each other. And now you want me to unlearn that?"
He looked away.
A vein throbbed in his temple.
"I just want you to live, Catarina. Not to slowly die in something impossible."
She shook her head, tears in her eyes.
"It's not impossible. It's just... us."
Silence.
Long.
Cruel.
Then he moved closer. And in a voice that was almost inaudible:
"We have to stop."
She remained frozen.
The words pierced her skin like an icy blade.
"Say it again, to see if you really believe it."
He didn't answer.
So she stepped forward and placed a hand on his cheek.
"Say it, Sylus. Say I don't attract you anymore."
His lips moved, but no sound came out.
She smiled sadly.
"Just as I thought."
Then she kissed him.
A kiss without promise, without future.
A farewell disguised as a final embrace.
They made love that night as if fighting against fate.
Without words, without restraint.
With rage, with tenderness, with the urgency of those who know that everything is about to fall apart.
When she woke up in the morning, the rain had stopped.
So had the fire.
And he was gone.
On the table, a single word, scribbled in haste:
Forgive me.
She sat on the edge of the bed, the sheets cold against her skin.
The silence seemed more deafening than ever.
And for the first time, she understood what he meant:
silence always wins.