Change

14

When I woke up the next morning, I felt Pietro'a arms wrapped around me.

One arm laid over my waist, his fingers digging into my skin slightly, and his other hand was laid gently against my cheek. My head was on his chest, my hair sprawled out around me.

I lifted my head slightly and saw that he was still sleeping. I let out a small sigh of relief. With any luck, I would be able to leave without waking him up. Pietro had always complained about how quietly I moved.

I laid still for another moment before moving. Just staring up at him. Taking him in one last time. He always looked so peaceful when he slept. Beautiful. But I guess we all look peaceful when we sleep. A part of me couldn't stand that this was over. And the other part was angry that it had happened in the first place.

I tried to gently lift his arm and wiggle out, but it wasn't so easy in the position I was in. As I moved, Pietro began to stir.

"Sneaking out?" he asked, his voice still deep with sleep.

I sighed in frustration.

"Trying to," I replied.

Pietro let go of me and sat up, leaning against his headboard. I moved to the side of the bed and sat up as well. I saw an empty glass of water on the night stand. I put the hand over the glass, tensing my fingers, and it filled with water. I took a drink and Pietro  stared at me, impressed.

"I didn't know you could do that."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," I told him.

"Yeah, I'm starting to realize that," he said.  "Look, Tessa, about last night..." He trailed off.

Last night. Kissing, touching. More. In the middle of the night. In his bed. The memory flooded back to me. Our soft voices in the dark. The feeling of his hands on my body, of his lips on mine. He has told me he loved me again. And I had almost said it back.

I didn't know what had come over me. I had just woken up, only an hour after we had fallen asleep, and I couldn't help it. Not that he had seemed to mind.

"There's nothing to say," I told him after a moment, when he still hadn't found the words.

"I feel like there is," he replied stubbornly.

I looked at him for the first time since I had sat up.

"Look, Pietro, last night was a mistake."

He looked hurt. I hadn't expected that.

"Coming here or everything else?"

"Both," I said, but I sounded unsure. "I mean, we're kidding ourselves if we believe we can come back from this, aren't we?"

He moved closer to me, but I stood up and took a few steps away from him. This was a conversation best had at a distance.

"Are we?"

He sounded almost...defeated. Like he was going to give up. Which was what I wanted. So why did it break my heart so much?

"I mean, yeah. I am still so angry at you and you're never going to forgive my dad, and I wouldn't expect you to. So there's really no way for us to fix this. It's not gonna be like it was ever again."