Then Came You { a pedro pascal fanfiction }

Chapter Twelve

A.N. Thanks for reading along, and to those who have voted or added this story to their reading lists. Shit is building up, I promise you'll get a break soon, just want to torture everyone a bit more. Short chapter, but the context is important. 

I fucked up.

Jealousy and the heat of the moment and Lucy spewing blasphemous statements about me not wanting her all collided at once. I didn't just step over that vague boundary I'd laid out for myself; I blew right past it and didn't look back until it was too late.

I knew what her mouth tasted like now, sweet, and warm, like honey. I knew the little sounds she made, the whimpers and moans against my lips that drove me mad even in retrospect. I knew what it felt like to have her hands clutching fistfuls of my hair, her soft lips yielding to mine, her knees nearly giving out the second I rolled her plump, bottom lip between my teeth.

Fuck, I wanted to do it again. Again, and again, and again. I'm not even sure how I had managed to gain enough control over myself to pull away from her... it was a wonder that I hadn't hoisted her into my arms and carried her back to my apartment that night.

In reality, I'd forced myself to go home, nearly turning around and racing back to her each step of the way. I sat awake almost all night, trembling and cursing myself, and desperately wanting to march down the hallway, knock on her door, and smash my lips against hers again.

I heard her come home, minutes after I'd locked myself in my apartment. She'd stopped in front of my door for a second, and my heart pounded in my head like a jackhammer. She didn't knock, though, just let out a loud sigh, then retreated down the hall, slamming her door shut far louder than she normally did.

I hated myself for hurting her. The broken look on her face as I pulled away absolutely crushed me. But I had to. I couldn't let myself slip into the delusional fantasy that everything would be alright if I just gave into this. It wouldn't, a happy ending was impossible, for everyone, but especially for me.

But goddamn did I miss her, which was ridiculous considering she lived next door. I hadn't seen her in almost a week. I hadn't mustered enough courage; hadn't thought I was strong enough not to break and kiss her again.

She avoided me just as much as I avoided her, and part of me wondered if perhaps she was done. Done with my seesawing affection, my vague boundaries and unwarranted jealousy. I wouldn't blame her... if she was, but fuck that would hurt. I wanted her in my life... even if that meant it couldn't be in the way both of us envisioned.

I could be her friend, if I could just fucking control myself. But I couldn't be her boyfriend, or her partner, or her husband. That was too close, too much, too dangerous.

I exhaled sharply as I placed my hand on my doorknob for the second time in the past ten minutes. I needed to talk to her, and the longer I put it off the harder it would be. I'd given us both enough space, and I would give her more... if I had to, but I needed to find out how she felt first.

I forced myself to open the door and step out into the hallway. The meager distance between her apartment and mine felt like miles as I stood there, my hands trembling slightly at my sides.

"Chill out." I whispered to myself as I began clearing that daunting distance, "It's just Lucy."

Just Lucy.

That's fucking helpful.

I sucked in a breath, nervously fucking with the front of my hair as I knocked on her door, my heart racing so intensely in my chest that it was making me feel nauseous.