Day 3 in Bali
When the sun lingers too long, it always leaves something behind.
The sky over Ubud had turned molten — a slow spill of gold melting into rose. Natasha stood on the villa’s terrace, wrapped in a silk robe the color of late blossoms, the air still warm from the afternoon sun. The rice fields below shimmered like glass, and the scent of jasmine drifted up from somewhere unseen.
She leaned against the stone railing, a soft hum of cicadas filling the silence, her thoughts wandering in lazy circles. The light touched everything differently here — slower, more deliberate — as if Bali itself wanted to be noticed. She closed her eyes, breathed in the quiet, and let the day dissolve around her.
Her mind wondered a little until it settled onto the beauty of Ubud and Bali.
The Stranger Appears
When she opened them, she slowly moved the robe off her shoulders to feel the air against her bare skin – then she felt it – the faint weight of someone’s gaze. Further along the stone terrace, a man stood with a camera slung casually at his side. He wasn’t posing or intruding; he was simply looking, as though the sight of her had interrupted whatever he’d come to capture.
Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them — curiosity, maybe recognition. A single heartbeat, then he smiled, the kind that lingers a moment too long before turning away. Natasha felt a blush rise beneath her collarbone, unexpected, uninvited. She laughed softly to herself, shaking her head and pulling her robe back over her shoulders.
Deja Vu
Later, as she walked through the villa courtyard, she saw him again — seated by the fountain, light playing across his shoulders. Their conversation began like most do, with something ordinary: the weather, the color of the sky. But when he mentioned the sunrise over the terraces, she caught the spark in his voice — an invitation wrapped in wonder.
“I’m Natasha,” she said, smiling, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Nice to meet you,” he replied. “I’m Alex.” The way he said it — calm, unhurried — felt like an echo from a dream she hadn’t finished. “Tomorrow, then,” she said. “Let’s watch it together.”
And as the evening slipped quietly into night, she found herself smiling again — not because of what had been said, but because of what hadn’t.
