The movie ended.
The last scenes appeared softly on the screen, exactly as it had begun.
There was no loud sound at the end, nor a grand moment announcing the end of the day.
Only the final image remained for a few seconds, then the screen went black.
Lily remained looking at the screen without moving.
She did not press any button immediately.
She knew the movie was over, but she needed a few moments before returning to the room she was sitting in, to real time, to the next day waiting for her.
On the screen, nothing remained.
Yet inside her head, the scenes were still moving.
The streets.
The laughs.
The brief conversations.
The way Adam looked at her.
That day that seemed ordinary when it happened, yet had now become something she was afraid to lose.
Lily looked at the disc beside the computer.
She thought about how she had spent long hours making this movie, but now she felt that two hours were simply not enough.
There was always another part she wanted to keep.
Another moment.
Another word.
Another look.
Yet she knew the movie was over.
Just as that day had ended.
She closed the program slowly, then took her phone from beside her.
The first thing she did was open the chat screen with Adam.
Perhaps he had turned on his phone.
Perhaps there was a new notification.
Perhaps she had waited all these hours simply because his phone was switched off.
The conversation appeared before her.
Yet nothing had changed.
The last message remained as it was.
No reply.
And no sign indicating that he had returned.
Lily looked at the screen for long seconds.
She knew that his phone being off did not mean anything definitive.
Perhaps he was asleep.
Perhaps he was busy.
Perhaps he could not turn it on yet.
Nevertheless, a small part of her hoped to see something different.
To find his name appearing suddenly.
To find a short message from him.
Anything.
She placed the phone on her lap and looked away.
The room was quiet.
Only the sound of the computer filled the place slightly before she turned it off.
Moments later, she began browsing her phone without a clear purpose.
She opened a few apps.
Looked at photos.
Scrolled through some news and messages.
She moved between things only because she was not ready to sleep yet.
Her mind was still stuck in the movie.
Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw a scene from that day.
A place they went to.
A path they walked along.
A moment they laughed for no important reason.
Yet time was moving regardless.
After a while, she noticed the numbers at the top of the screen.
It was very late.
Lily paused for a moment.
Tomorrow she had university.
She had lectures.
And she had to wake up early.
She did not want this night to end.
She did not want to leave the day behind and return to the usual routine.
Yet she knew the morning would come whether she wanted it to or not.
She set the phone aside.
She looked one last time at the disc on the desk.
As if reassuring herself that it was still there.
That the day had not vanished.
That it was preserved somewhere.
Then she rose slowly and turned off the room light.
Only a small light from the street entered through the window.
She stood for a moment looking outside.
Paris was quiet.
The lights in distant buildings were still lit.
And the city that witnessed that entire day continued on without knowing that a single person in a small room was trying to hold onto a memory of it.
Lily returned to her bed.
She placed the phone beside her.
Not too far away.
Just in a place she could reach if something appeared.
If Adam turned on his phone.
If a message arrived.
She lay down, looking at the ceiling.
She was tired.
Yet sleep did not come immediately.
Because her mind was replaying the last scene from the movie.
The last moment before the screen went black.
She smiled a small smile.
Then closed her eyes.
In the morning, she would have to return to university.
To her studies.
To the life she was accustomed to.
Yet tonight, before sleeping, she had only one thing with her.
An entire day.
Preserved inside a small disc.
A day Lily chose not to let be lost.
Lily remained lying on the bed.
The room was dark, and silence filled the place.
The phone was beside her, and the disc she had made was still on the desk before her, like a small proof of the day she could not forget.
She closed her eyes, but did not fall asleep right away.
There was one thing revolving in her mind.
Adam.
She remembered his silence.
She remembered the last moment between them.
And she remembered that she had not let things end the right way.
She moved slightly under the covers, and looked at the phone once more.
She did not open it this time.
She only looked at it.
She knew that waiting for a message would change nothing now.
But tomorrow would be different.
Tomorrow she would see him at the university.
Tomorrow he would be before her.
And she would not need a phone screen, an online status, or a short text message.
She would be able to speak with him directly.
She thought for a moment about the words she would say.
She did not want to explain too much.
She did not want to make the matter bigger than it was.
She only wanted to apologize.
To tell him that she was wrong.
That she did not mean to make him feel she did not trust him.
That she was merely afraid.
Afraid of many things she could not explain at the time.
She whispered to herself in a low voice: “Tomorrow I will apologize to him.” She paused briefly.
Then added: “And everything will end.” Yet she was not entirely sure of that.
Because she knew that some words, even if simple, require courage to be spoken.
She smiled a small smile thinking of the next day.
Perhaps she would find him in the hallways.
Perhaps they would sit and talk.
Perhaps everything would return to how it was.
She had a small hope.
And this hope made her feel greater comfort.
She placed her head on the pillow.
This time she did not try to think further.
She let her thoughts settle slowly.
The last thing she remembered before closing her eyes was Adam’s face in the movie.
The way he smiled.
And the way he looked at her as if he understood her without needing an explanation.
Then she whispered once more, before sleep overtook her: “Tomorrow.” And after that, Lily slept.
For the first time in hours, she was not waiting for the phone’s sound.
Nor was she watching a screen.
She was simply waiting for a new morning.
A morning in which she would meet him.