CILLIAN MURPHY

I cannot resist the temptation to watch her leave. My eyes follow her to the door, shifting to a man holding the door. The man who accompanied her the whole evening. Just as I expected her to walk away without a last glance, her blue eyes met mine for one last time. My heartbeat manages to skip a beat the moment her eyes fix on me. And before I know it, she is out of sight. Out of reach from me. The pretty woman I do not know the name of. The pretty woman I shared a waltz with and twirled around in my arms.
"Do you dance?" I questioned, not knowing why I felt bold at the sudden. Her blue eyes shimmered in the dim light as they met mine. She crossed her arms over her chest before she replied: "Only if I'm asked properly." Her voice was soft and gentle, hinted with a tone of dominance. The corner of my mouth curved into a smile.
     "My lady of Britain, will you dance with me?" I question, extending my hand to her. She tried not to smile, however, she failed miserably. Her hand felt warm in my cold hand. Before I fully realized it, I led the dance with her in my arms.
     I took a glance at the clock: 5:34 AM. After a deep sigh, I gather my belongings and leave the restaurant. The staff of the hotel greeted me with good mornings, to which I only muttered a hello. I made my way to my hotel room, where I plopped onto the bed. My eyes closed, envisioning her face when I asked her if she danced. Her confident, cocky expression I can't seem to escape. She is the face I can't forget.
     I dozed off to sleep with the thought of her.

My alarm rings through the hotel room, echoing in my ears. My hand searches for my phone while I slowly wake. The ringing stops and I open my eyes. A yawn escapes my mouth, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. It didn't feel like a two-hour sleep, but it was definitely too short.
     After a short shower and breakfast, I headed to the set. I entered my cabin where I needed to get dressed for my role as Dr. Jonathan Crane. I button my shirt, tucking it in my pants. After my sweater, I dress myself in a colbert. I allow the stylist to style my hair before I place the glasses on the bridge of my nose.
"Thank you so much," I thank the stylist. "Now, I'm in a need of coffee." She laughs before exiting the cabin. I follow right after, heading to the coffee stand. I pour myself a cup of coffee as my eyes wander around the city. My eyes fall upon Christopher Nolan and a female by his side, Who seems ... familiar? The trousers, the hoodie ... Wait a moment.
"Cillian!" I hear Christopher calling my name. I glance in his direction, meeting the woman's eyes. They were blue. Eyes I thought I wouldn't see again. My heart accelerates while a nervous jolt runs through my body. As I approach them, I see the lady turn around and sneak away. I try to keep my expression as blank as possible, but my heart is racing.
     "Good morning, Cillian," Christopher greets with excitement. "Meet my-" He wants to wrap his arm around the lady, but she has gone elsewhere. "Where has she gone to?" he questions, clearly confused. He gasps and pulls the lady by his side.
     "Cillian, meet my daughter," he introduces. My heart drops at his words. Daughter? I have shared a waltz with the producer's daughter? Oh, Fuck me. I meet her eyes from underneath her hood as if she knows what I am thinking. I forget about the presence of her father and regain my composure. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Everything is well.
"I'm Cillian Murphy," I speak gently, extending my hand to shake her hand. She accepts my hand, the one that had laid on her waist, and I bring her hand up to my mouth. I place a soft kiss on her knuckles. "I'm Diana Nolan." Diana Nolan. Lady Diana. Pretty woman.
"Have you met before?" Christopher questions. I forgot he was there. I tear my eyes off her, shifting my eyes to Christopher. "You could say that." "No, we haven't-" We say in unison. I prevent myself from scowling. Why would she- Never mind. Christopher's forehead creases and the look in his eyes is demanding a clarification. From the corners of my eyes, I see her mouth opening but I speak before she has the chance to.
"I met Lady Diana only a couple of hours ago. We shared a dance and we left without a name,'' I explain, keeping my eyes on Christopher. I hear my pulse pounding in my ears, ready to be fired on a standing foot. I prepare myself for the worst reaction ever. However, it never came.
"How lovely," he beams, running his hand through Diana's hair. "Diana is determined on the Olympics of 2004 next year." The Olympics. I don't try to hide my surprise, because it is impressive. It's admirable, to have such a goal.
     "That is right," she says. "The World Championships is around the corner." My eyebrows rise as I place my hands on my sides. "A World Championship and the Olympics. Quite the ambitions," I compliment, my eyes meeting hers. She seems flustered and glances away.
"I need to get through the qualifications though," she mutters softly. I tilt my head at her. "Don't think so low of yourself," I reason gently. "You are participating in a World Championship. That is incredible, to say the least." "Thank you," she smiles humbly. A smile I hope and wish to see more often. She looks pretty whilst smiling. Pretty woman.

"So, you play the Scarecrow?" she questions, changing the subject. I chuckle, crossing my arms over my chest. "Correct. Dr. Jonathan Crane," I answer. "The villain of the film." I motion with my hand to my outfit.
"How do you prepare for such a role?" she continues questioning, seemingly interested. How do I prepare for such a role? "It depends, as in ... This is based on the DC comics, so I have read the comics to get to know this character. And this villain has lived in fear during his entire childhood and he once realized he could control it, he would never let it control him again. I personally like to give it a touch of myself." I watched her eyes wander down my body, which made me ... nervous? My face feels warm, but my body feels like it is on fire. Fuck.
     "Wow," she breathes. "Doesn't that mess with your mind?" I pout my lips as I slowly shake my head. "Not particularly. Although, I need the time off after filming." She nods, understanding why. However, I didn't want to talk about myself. I want to talk about her. I want to get to know her.

"How do you prepare for a competition?" I question swiftly, changing subject once again. I can see she is not satisfied with the subject since she is arching her eyebrow at me. "We are not switching subjects here, Cillian," she scolds but with a tone of amusement. Cillian. The way my name rolls off her tongue is simply satisfying. It sends a shiver down my spine.
     "Can't I show interest in someone I have shared a dance with?" I counter, showing the obvious interest. Her amused chuckle fades into a glare. It is adorable, I can't help but chuckle.
     "Bastard," she scolds. "But if you wish to know, I have a standard routine as a gymnast — I know absolutely nothing of gymnastics — The practice before the competition is always shorter than usual because I'll be doing my routine and done. And ... I always shower the night before and I make sure I'm on time in bed. The next morning, I dress up and then do make-up before doing my hair. I mentally walk through my routines before I head to the competition." I keep on nodding, doing my best to understand her language of sports. However, I do not know what a routine is...
     "I don't know much about gymnastics," I admit. "And I wish to understand, what do you mean with routines?" Her eyes seem to shine in the daylight as if I have said something meaningful to her. The corner of her mouth curves into a smile. That beautiful smile.
     "The vault exists of a pegasus and a springboard and you simply hurdle onto the springboard and perform mid-air somersaults or twists before landing. The uneven bars exist of a series of acrobatic swings and turns before the dismount — She does all this? — The balance beam is a narrow padded beam on which we perform leaps, turns, dance steps, and somersaults before also ending with a dismount. Last but not least, the floor. Our women's floor routine consists of a one-and-a-half minute music where we perform in tumbling lines and show our choreography," she explains. My brain tries to comprehend the words she has just spoken to me that I don't even notice her eyes on me. She has made me curious about her sport.
     "Otherwise, I could suggest a competition to watch," she adds, making it sound like a joke. My brain forces my eyes to look into hers before I answer: "Perhaps I will. One of yours, of course." I feel like I'm too obvious in expressing my interest. The last thing I wish is to come off as desperate. I'm not acting desperate, am I?
     "Trying to impress me?" she questions smiling and arching an eyebrow at me. Yes, yes I am. My expression remains blank as I answer her question: "Yes." Fuck, I am desperate. Fuck.

"Cut!" Christopher calls. "That was majestic, Cillian," he praises. I send him a smile before my eyes wander to the lady next to him. Her eyes are already on me. I feel her gaze on me, even during the shoot. In between the scenes, I always succeeded in stealing a glance from her. She has these kinds of eyes you don't want to look away from. Hypnotic.
"That was it for the day, thank you!" Christopher announces. A sigh leaves my lips as I run a hand through my hair. As I see Christopher walk away, I seize the opportunity to walk up to Diana. She notices and smiles once again.
     "Did you get through the day?" I question, imagining it could be boring to do nothing. The corners of her mouth curve into a downward smile as she tilts her head. "I am still alive, am I not?" she chuckles. She is funny. Fuck, Cillian. Focus, for fucks sake. "But I enjoyed today. It does me well to see my father producing his film." I could imagine that, leading me to the following comment.
     "You must miss him when he isn't at home," I speak, causing her to nod. "Yes, but seeing him like this ... It does give an easing feeling," she answers. I open my mouth but my voice doesn't speak.
     "Cillian? Do you want to join us for dinner?" Christopher questions. I avert my eyes from Diana to Christopher and nod. "Sure, why not?" He smiles and turns to his daughter.
     "Will you join us too? Or do you have plans with Atlas? Like yesterday? Because you seemed to get along," he questions. Atlas? The man who accompanied her yesterday I assume. My gaze shifts back to Diana, who has her eyes on her father. She shakes her head. Thank god.
     "I don't know where Atlas is," she answers. "Or haven't heard from him all day, so I will join you." He pulls her into a sideways hug before he walks away. Diana's eyes slowly find mine. My heart tumbles and my stomach twists. The relationship she shares with her father is precious.
     "I'm heading to my cabin," I speak, breaking the silence between us. "Do you wish to accompany me?" I add nervously. A smile plays her lips and nods. "Yes." Her answer is short but simple. I fail to suppress a smile before gesturing in the direction we need to walk.

"When are you leaving?" I question on the way to my cabin. "Tomorrow," she answers, her voice hinting with ... sadness? Tomorrow, that is fast. Too fast.
     "That is so soon," I admit. She sends me a faint smile, agreeing that it is fast. "I wish I could have stayed a little longer but the road to the World Championships continues," she speaks. That specific reason prevents me from taking any moves on her. I cannot deny that I desire to know if she has any mutual feelings.
"The Olympics are important for you, are they not?" I question, to which she nods. "It is. It has been a dream since I learned about the Olympics," she speaks, a smile lingering on her lips. A nervous feeling jolts through my veins, not knowing how to approach this situation. We reach my cabin and I hold the door for her. However, it isn't the brightest idea since I have to pass her.
Without taking further notice, I place my hands around her waist to pass. I didn't notice until she gasped. I grow conscious of my hand placing before I lift my hands from her waist. "My apologies," I speak gently, our faces inches away from each other. "Don't apologize," she whispers. I watch her eyes shift from my eyes to my lips and back. Every vessel of sanity has left my body as I close the distance between our faces. I swallow harshly, fighting the urge to kiss her.
"Cillian," she whispers. The way she says it, has me in a complete chokehold. Fuck. "Yes?" I grumble. "I'm not ready for a relationship or any kind of attachment yet," she whispers. And damn right she is. "Not with the Olympics around the corner." I open my eyes, not even noticing I had closed them. If she only knew what she was doing to me. My eyes find hers and I can see a flash of guilt in her eyes, however, I understand her perspective.
"Please understand," she whispers. I nod. "I understand," I reply. "Really, I do. And you need to chase this dream." I move away from her body, starting to remove my colbert. "I'm sorry," she adds, causing me to pause for a moment. I pull my sweater off before turning to her. "Don't ever apologise for chasing your dreams, Lady Diana," I reason.
     "If we are meant to be something, our paths will cross again," I add.