𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 ✓

TWENTY

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a/n: yeah... that's that.

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I feel awful for leaving him hanging like this. This should've been a joyful day, considering the good news about my mother, and instead, I'm crying like a baby, face-first in the pillows. I notice that one pillow still smells like him. It makes me cry even more. I'm a terrible person.

I don't know how much time has passed. The sun is hidden behind clouds when I hear a knock that is so hesitant I don't pick it up right away. And it can only be one person, a person I'm not sure I can face right now. Or ever again. 

Another knock echoes through the room, and I groan while I roll off the mattress. I know I have to talk to him sooner or later. My stomach aches so much I think I might throw up. With weak legs, I shuffle to the locked door.

"Charlotte," I hear him right behind the thin layer of wood. It's a desperate sigh, almost sounding as if he's on the verge of giving up. I press my forehead to the cold door and close my eyes, gathering my courage. 

"You don't have to answer my question," he adds after some silence, startling me. Did he just indirectly admit that he overreacted? As if you weren't overreacting, Charlie.

My hand hovers above the doorknob, ready to unlock the door when he breaks the silence again. I think I can hear his heavy breath through this thin layer of wood that divides us.

"I have another question though, so I hope you're listening."

His voice is breathy. My hand still lingers by the doorknob. In anticipation, I stare at the dark wood right in front of me, wondering what exactly he is doing out there. Is this like in one of those rom-coms where the two characters stand right across from each other without knowing it, their backs or hands or foreheads pressed against the door? I hope it is.

"Do you hate me now?"

No. No, no, no, I don't. But I don't move, I don't utter a single syllable. I'm so in shock from how this situation has ended up like. Again, his words echo through my brain. I never hated you. 

He never hated me. 

But the thing is, I don't know if I ever hated him. I think I did. In the beginning, maybe. When I thought all he was was this cocky asshole who had to bash me down on any possible occasion. Scenarios play back in my brain. Him getting me home from the bar. Us hugging. Us almost kissing by the porch. Butterflies gather in my belly and I bite my lower lip, trying to hold back the sobs that start to come back. 

"I know you'd have every reason to hate me," his voice gets me back to reality. Reality, where the guy I unexpectedly started to fall for is just a plank of rosewood away.

"But after all that happened this week, I— I kind of hope you don't."

I swallow the knot of tears in my throat, finally closing my hand around the doorknob. When I unlock it, the sound cuts through the silence like a knife, and I stare at my shaking fingers that seem to put off opening the door. It feels like my body just doesn't want to follow my brain's instructions. And my brain tells me, Open up, tell him. Go, don't miss your chance.

My chance.

My entire body is tingling when I eventually open up the door to reveal my puffy, red face to him. His blue eyes are widened, directed at me. His body is frozen in motion, his hands hanging loosely by his sides. This is what disbelief looks like if it were a person.

I gulp again and take a step forward in the most hesitant way. The silence that has emerged now covers us like a bubble, and he is the first of us to burst it. 

"Charlie," he uses my nickname for the first time, saying it so beautifully that I feel the tingles intensifying, "Do you hate me?"

His voice is cracking as he speaks as if he's afraid of my answer. I sniff and blink new tears away for what feels like the thousandth time today. I bite my tongue before I slightly shake my head, loose curls falling into my face.

"No, Sebastian, I don't hate you. I really, really don't."

The words leave my mouth quietly in not more than a whisper. He doesn't move and it drives me crazy. I'm out of breath for some reason, and every shallow breath I take makes my entire body tense up even more. This anticipation is slowly murdering me. Do something, say something, please.

Suddenly, everything happens in the blink of an eye. With two large steps, he approaches me. His hands land on my cheeks, cupping them and tilting my head back. My eyelids flutter shut as I see his face coming close to mine. Our noses touch, our breaths mingle, our lips brush against one another for a few moments. Oh my God.

Then, his lips eventually crash onto mine. 

He tastes like the coffee we had earlier today. I wrap my arms around him and pull myself closer to him while my insides melt. The kiss is demanding, passionate, like he waited too long to do this. His tongue slips into my mouth, meeting mine, and I softly moan into the kiss. He instantly reacts by pulling me closer to him. His body is so close to mine drives me completely insane. Shit. This is heaven.

The kiss is laced with despair, relief, and lust. Not a single piece of paper could fit between us, I think. But to be fair, thinking is not my strong suit at this given moment. All I feel is his lips, his body pressing up against mine, softly guiding me backward and back into the bedroom while our tongues meet every now and then. He groans against my lips when I gently bite down on his bottom lip. All the mean comments, all the sarcastic teasing, everything is forgotten, overshadowed by this kiss and this kiss only. 

This kiss turns out to be everything I ever wanted, and I don't mind. Not anymore.