Lilly & Leclerc ~ [CL 16]

8. Dinner

Amber has barely said a word to me. Rightly so. I hate myself for letting slip of her secret earlier. She spent the remainder of our day on the yacht laughing quietly and nodding, without truly listening to anything being said. I hate that I made her feel like that - all spaced out and sick with anxiety. It makes me feel a little better that Charles and Carlos received basically the same treatment until half an hour ago but I still feel intense guilt for causing it all.

Charles, on the other hand, hasn't left my side. The remaining hours floating on the boat were spent with him endlessly refilling my glass with champagne until my head was spinning with tipsiness and I was a giggling mess under his touch. I don't let him kiss me again though. It feels like an apt punishment to myself for letting slip Amber's secret - if slightly torturous.

As soon as we arrived back in Charles's apartment I scurried off to my room, closing the door swiftly behind me. I downed 2 bottles of water before washing the salty remains of the sea water from my hair and skin. Then I passed the time before dinner sobering up through sleep, passing out on the beautiful bed until an alarm buzzed uncomfortably loud from my phone at 7:30. Opening my eyes made them ache.

It gave me exactly thirty minutes to get ready. Then which quickly dwindled away by the time I'd blinked away the sun and champagne induced sleep from my eyes.

"Your favourite?" Charles asked when I appeared on his balcony, hair half damp in soft waves and concealer and mascara making the best of my face for the evening. His fingers brushed against the hem of the short white halter-neck dress, his skin intentionally brushing against mine with an action that has me sucking in a deep breath. I only blushed in reply unable to form words, thankful that once again my cheeks had been hit by the sun enough to cover the pink as I nodded. "Beautiful Fleur." He hummed quietly that it made me wonder for a moment if it was to himself more than me. Then his eyes skimmed my body so that it burned for the hundredth time today. It's with the burning that I decided what I want to happen tonight.

I need to get Charles Leclerc out of my system.

I need to give into whatever this is and just let it happen. I want it to happen, I want to know what he means when he says he'll come to my room late at night and speak French. I want to know how he'll feel under my fingers, how his fingers will feel on every inch of my skin so desperately. So why fight it any longer? Maybe it will finally end whatever madness this is and I can go back to being a normal level headed human. One that doesn't trip over simple words and get flustered over the smallest of touches.

So when the taxi stopped outside the restaurant - the one in Fontvieille that on our day out Charles claimed was his favourite - and I had to almost climb over charles to exit the vehicle I let my hand linger longer than it needed to on his shoulder. Whilst it was there I gave his shirt covered skin a firm squeeze before releasing. When enthusiastically gushing over the view from the restaurant with Amber, as I had done only a day before with the Monegasque stood opposite me, I let my eyes lock on him as I said the world 'beautiful'.

The dinner menu was different to the lunch menu, but we're sat at the same table as we were only 30 hours ago. The realisation made my heart flutter and with a quick look at Charles I'm fairly sure he feels the same way. It looks so different at night, the sky a blend of candy floss pinks and purples and midnight blues. The swirls of all the different colours reminded me of Charles and his ever changing eyes that I'm so obsessed with. If my mind wasn't so clouded with memories of Charles sneaking kisses with I would've swore that our waiter is the same, but I can't exactly promise that.

When Charles asked what I was ordering I hooked my foot around his leg under the table, shifting forward in my spot to purposefully expose more of my cleavage as I said the words "What would Mr Leclerc recommend?". Charles stammered in response before looking at me through a scowl. I was throwing him off for probably the first time since we first met.