FALLEN: A New Adult Romance (First of the FALLEN Trilogy)

The Very Thought of You

He joins me in the living room with a plate of homemade oat cookies. He puts it down in front of us on the coffee table. He grabs my tea to give it to me before he takes a seat right next to me on the couch. He could have chosen to sit on the other one, but he decided to sit closer to me. Should I be reading into this? I am reading too much into this.

For fuck's sake, when will I get that this could never work? Why would he want somebody like me? And I him?

It's evident why I would want him... He's incredibly intelligent. He is driven, passionate, rational and collected, extremely good looking, and he sees me for my talent and intellect over any physical trait. He knows me by my actions and not any trivia questions about my likes and dislikes. He learned them without asking about them. He has known my worst side before knowing my best... That's why I feel such a natural attraction towards him. Because I do, I won't deny it anymore. Our friendship grew naturally. It isn't the easiest, but we know each other lots more that way than I know the band, for example.

I sigh deeply and take a long sip of my burning hot tea to hide how deeply I thought about him.

"What happened in Camden, Marcel? Why do you always ask me to take you by the waist?" I rip off the band-aid and look at him gently, giving him my full attention. My tone was calm but direct.

"I hate that part of London. I never go there." He only responds, but it's not cold as an answer. I think it's because it might be too personal.

"Why were you there tonight, then?" I try to understand, being very careful that his attitude could change at me any time.

"It's Eddy's first show of the tour. I wanted to be supportive."

"Why do you hate it?"

"I don't want to talk about it..." He only says and hides behind his tea, taking a long sip.

"OK..." I let go of the topic.

"It scares me..." He begins to say, and I see the struggle through his traits. He instantly gets my attention.

I put my cup of tea on the coffee table and got more comfortable on his couch to look at him.

Something very hard must have had happened to him, and I really don't want him to go into that dark place. So, I put my hand on his knee to stop him from talking about things he didn't want. I have never seen him like that.

"It's OK, Marcel. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." I tell him to comfort him, but he can't stop looking at my hand. I feel suddenly giddy but very nervous.

"I don't know what it is about you... that makes me want to talk about things I never felt the need to share before." He admits, and, as it always does, my heart beats at a crazy rhythm for him. I want him to know he can share whatever he wants with me. I am here to listen to him and never judge.

"Then, talk to me. About anything. I want to be there for you like you were for me." I encourage him to let it all out.

"I don't know how to..." He looks down at his hands around his cup of tea on his lap.

On a considerable leap of faith, I slide closer to him. With a hand, I reach to cup his cheek. I caress his skin gently and tangle the tip of my fingers in his hair at the base of his neck, rubbing my thumb on his roughly shaved cheek.

"Look at me," I ask him and wait for him as he takes his time. When he does, I smile softly. "Just begin by telling me how you feel."

He gazes right into my eyes, hoping I will get through his walls, hoping he will let me in. I wait. A long time. But I would wait all night if it's what he needs. I finally feel his vulnerability, and it's beautiful.