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MARCH 26TH 2022 📍JEDDAH, SAUDI ARABIA ────────────────────────────────
She walked past him, heading toward the door, and he followed after. His hand on her wrist stopped her, however, and he twirled her around to face him. He stood mere inches apart from her, so close that they breathed each other's air. Their bodies were pressed together with barely any room left between them. "Just because I can't stand the sight of you doesn't mean I'm done with you." The words were said through gritted teeth, but his gaze never broke from hers. His eyes were filled with a mixture of love and hatred at this point; she couldn't tell which emotion was stronger.
Their lips collided roughly before either had time to think about what they were doing or how to react. Her hands found his neck as he tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Sloppy at best, rough and desperate at worst – but neither cared at that moment. All they could focus on was getting closer. Her back hit the wall behind her, and one of his hands rested lightly against it as his mouth devoured hers hungrily. She wrapped both arms tightly around his shoulders, pulling him as close as possible. Her heart pounded out of control as he ran his tongue along the inside of her bottom lip and she responded eagerly. Though, as much as she liked kissing him, something felt... off about their encounter. It wasn't the time nor the place to have an intimate moment like this, and so she pulled away, panting heavily for air. Her eyes darted wildly around the room, trying to catch her breath.
Pierre fucked up royally, more than once, and he didn't deserve her forgiveness. Whatever was written on her face right now told him all he needed to know. He let go of her, taking several steps backwards until his back bumped into the opposite wall and he slid down to sit on the floor. Completely dumbfounded by what happened, he simply looked up at her with wide eyes, waiting for her to say something, anything. But she just looked away, avoiding eye contact as she fiddled with the hem of her shirt. She made her way to the exit, her head low as her fingers wrapped around the door handle.
She held on tightly to her composure, fighting back tears as she tried desperately not to break down. Her legs refused to carry her any further, refusing to allow her the freedom to walk away from Pierre for good this time around. It scared her to see how easily he broke down her walls when he touched her. He hurt her more times than she could count, and though she hated to admit it, she had fallen for him again. This man, the person who haunted her thoughts at night and haunted her waking hours, did something to her. He was slowly breaking down every layer of protection she thought she'd built up over the past few years. Angry, frustrated, betrayed even, sure; brokenhearted? Not so much. As much as she wanted to be angry at him, all she could muster was pity.
"Camille, please let go of that handle," he begged quietly, still sitting on the cold floor. For a fleeting moment she did as he said, she loosened her grip on the handle and allowed herself one glance toward where he sat.
