A 'SUB' REQUEST (Cate Blanchett x OC)

Chapter 30: A tornado

I pressed the button three times. The elevator doors sprung open again. 

"But do you forgive me?" I asked. 

"I'm not sure," she said. 

"Will you ever be?"

"I don't know." 

"I think I'll wait," I said.

"What?"

"I'll wait for you." 

We just stood there like that, her leaning against the elevator wall and me in the hallway with my thumb on the button. 

"Well I'm not going to change my mind in the next few minutes, and other people have to use the elevator." she flashed a bemused smile. 

"Then take as long as you wish. I'll wait." I said firmly.

"You shouldn't." 

"Why not?" 

"You're too young to understand this, but you have your whole life ahead of you."

"Not too young to love you though. To be loved by you. To love your kids." 

"No, but..." 

"I'll move back to LA. Or to London. Or Australia." 

"Don't be silly - you're thriving here in New York. There's something new in your energy - that I've never seen before." 

"I can always adopt a new self in a new city." 

"Is that what comes of getting away from me?"

"My career usually takes off when my personal life goes down the drain. It's a pattern at this point."

"Why do you want this?"

"Honestly, I don't know how we'd turn out. Our relationship has always been complicated, and it probably always will be. But I've grown into a better version of myself, and I feel that I have more to give. Because all my life I'd rather regret trying something than not trying at all."

"God, I was expecting something a lot more romantic," she teased, "but this is good enough for now." 

"What can I do to make you forgive me, Cate?" 

"Nothing at this point," she said plainly, "I should head back up."

"When is your flight?"

"Tomorrow at 10am." 

"Will I see you again soon?"

I let go of the button, and the doors were closing between us again. 

"I don't think so." she smiled at me. 

-----

"Have a safe flight," I texted her the next morning. Bam. It went through. 

If she had an iPhone, everything would've gone through on iMessage no matter where she was in the world. Fuck Android. 

"Thank you." She texted back mere seconds later. 

I lay on my couch and stared at the ceiling, replaying last night's conversation in my head. For two people who had this much pain and distance between us, my heart-to-heart with Cate after all these months flowed so smoothly and felt right in unimaginable ways. Even though the outcome was not what I had hoped, if I could re-do last night all over again, there was not a single thing I would've changed. 

However, the hollow of my room heralded the start of yet another dark grieving period ahead. Of hopes quashed. Of picking myself up over and over again towards a higher purpose that didn't exist. Of eating, drinking, and sleeping just to sustain my biological existence for an uncertain limited amount of time on this earth. 

Before I surrendered myself to such a gloomy state, I decided to do one last thing. 

I took out my phone. And I started texting. 

"Why do I want this?" I kept typing, "because I read somewhere that everyone will meet about 80000 people in their life, and out of my 80000, you are my favorite. You're in the top 0.00125%, which makes you hundreds of times more competitive than ivy league admits. Some of my other favorite people are long dead - you're the only one who was born within the same century as I was, and I think that's one of the luckiest things to ever happen to me, even if we just stay friends and never fall in love again. I do sometimes wish I were born twenty years earlier so we could be peers, but I genuinely find you even hotter now than in your 20s, so it's working out for me. 

I care about you so much I want to study your brain, and figure out what goes on in there on a molecular level that makes you exactly who you are and no one else. I've known you for over a year, and I still feel like I've only just met a sliver of you, and if it's gonna stay like this then I'll spend my life trying to find a way to feel good about it, because most people don't even get that. With only a glimpse into who you really are, I already find you the most vibrant and breathtaking person I've ever met. 

I know that you'll only see this message after you land, so I'm counting on the next few hours as some of the most important in my life. I understand if you don't want to see me again, but I'll be here, as long as I remember that a broken heart is still an open heart. And I love you with all of it." 

I pressed 'send'. 

I was about to go to sleep for a long time when I noticed that something was off. 

The message went through. 

The time stamp: 11:27am. 

Which was impossible because she must've been in airplane mode. 

Unless...

My gut instinct and a blind sense of optimism swirled up a storm in the already chaotic cabinets of my brain. Minutes later, I heard a knock on my door. 

Instead of running, I only managed to inch towards the handle, which also proved difficult. How could a tornado stay still?

I would never forget the sequence of events that took place after, though it was all a blur. Minutes became seconds when those flaming blue eyes, filled to the brim with tears, materialized from behind my door, and then pressed so close to my face that our lashes interlaced. My back hit a hard surface, I couldn't remember whether horizontal or vertical, and my own limbs found their double and it was suddenly impossible to disentangle them. Her lips were buried so deep in my skin that I could feel them on my skull. 

"How did you ever find my address?" Was my first question after we became two entities again. 

"Your entire festival guest list was hacked, remember? It was WikiLeaks 2.0." 

"I forgot about that...where's your luggage? What about your flight?"

"I never went to the airport." She said, "I cancelled my flight and never bought another ticket."

"I hope I'm right about why you're here..." 

"I like your answer to my question," She held me in her arms, "it's backed up by research and numbers and everything. A bit creepy with the science stuff though." 

"God, can you please delete the whole thing..." my face was turning crimson. 

"Never. I took a screenshot of it already with my basic Android phone. Might frame and hang it above my nightstand." 

"Sounds like I got an A+ on my essay." 

"Last night, you also asked me what you can do to make me forgive you."

"Yes?" I waited with bated breath. I'll do anything, anything for her. 

"Well, I did think of a few things that you're very good at," She started unbuttoning her blouse and guided my hand under it, softly biting her lower lip, "and I want you to do them to me now."