𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 ✓

TWENTY-SIX

-

"Sebastian?"

"Hm?"

Jolene's car rolls behind the countless others. Stupid traffic delays our arrival for another two hours or so. As Sebastian sits behind the wheel, impatiently tapping the stale leather, I throw my head back against the headrest of my seat. A snail could probably overtake us right now.

"It drives me crazy to have to wait until tomorrow," I say, referring to the heavy traffic. We now know for sure that tomorrow, we're getting the information about who gets the job. I don't even know who I would want to get it by now...

Since the second hookup a few days ago, we still haven't talked about the situation between us. All we did was snuggle up on the couch, watching movies on the TV after a long day of writing our articles. We kissed, we cuddled, we exchanged longing glares across the room while working. And all of this without losing a single word about it. Like it was natural. Like it was supposed to be this way.

"I know," Sebastian sighs in response, "I wish he would just tell us on the phone."

I groan, wiping one hand across my face. My hair is in a loose bun on top of my head, my body hidden in a hoodie and sweats. The hoodie, I'd stolen from him. Who wouldn't have? It's too comfortable.

"Is it weird that I'm afraid of the answer?" I ask in a quiet voice, almost afraid to say it out loud. One hand of his leaves the steering wheel and rests on my thigh, comfortingly squeezing it. Tingles spread from the point of contact all over my body. 

"No," he eventually answers, letting the car catch up with the one in front of us in what feels like a leap. In reality, we're now maybe at the same tempo as the imaginary snail we're racing. This pisses me off. 

The car still smells like mould and fries somehow, despite the windows being open. Outside, the hot summer air lets the air jitter above the asphalt. I take a deep breath of smog-infused air and put my hand atop his. 

"Like, I don't even know what answer I would prefer," I admit hesitantly, "You or me getting the promotion."

"Don't be silly, Charlie," he replies in a serious tone, "Of course you want the job for yourself."

"Maybe," I sigh, but truth is, I'm not even sure anymore. It feels like my hard work, about to pay off, rolls back down, burying me under it, squeezing me to death. Was it even worth it?

"I'm serious," Sebastian says, letting one thumb caress the thin fabric of my sweats, "This job is the big career boost you worked for."

"I guess."

"What makes you so unsure of this now?" he asks curiously, his tone soft and confused. I shrug, beginning to play with his fingers underneath mine.

"Now it feels like the hard work was just fueled by our rivalry, nothing more," I let out eventually. He quickly glances over to me, arching a brow.

"And now that that's over..." I start, but let my sentence trail off. Sebastian presses his lips together, his jaw is clenched as he nods.

"I guess it is, huh," he notices, and this makes it official. We're no longer enemies. We couldn't if we tried.

"And I don't know what this..." I motion between the two of us, "...is, but I don't want to lose it over this stupid decision of that stupid promotion."

He says nothing, leaving me in the belief that he disagrees, now trying to search for words to say. To tell me nicely how stupid I am myself for being so close to stepping back from the promotion, should I be selected. The traffic loosens up, and the rest of the drive is silent, just his hand on my thigh as he brings us home to New York. I will miss that cabin and its perfect-height kitchen island.

Then, shortly before we enter the city, he eventually breaks the silence, ripping me out of my thoughts. Those mostly consisted of what mistakes have hidden in the article I handed in two days ago. There must've been something wrong. It's me.

"Do you have to go home or... do you want to stay at my place for a while? Watch a movie, order food."

His offer makes me smile. 

"Movie and food sounds amazing," I grin softly, and he squeezes my thigh again. "I could use some distraction from tomorrow morning."

He hums, agreeing with me. And so, he drives us back to his apartment, where we bring his luggage to his hallway. It's a relatively small apartment with giant windows, and it's messy in there. 

"Didn't have time to clean," he excuses the mess, and we proceed with ordering Vietnamese food, putting on a movie, and snuggling up on the couch. And a part of me is wondering...

Will this stay the same once one of us gets the promotion?

-

a/n: sorry for this being so short. It's rather a filler chapter. More to come soon.
BTW: we're heading straight to the end of this story...