Lilly & Leclerc ~ [CL 16]

37. Love of My Life

One - Ed Sheeran
Love of My Life - Harry Styles

"We need to talk." Tears have instantly sprang to my eyes because I know how badly Charles doesn't want to face this. His head is shaking slowly instantly. But we have to. "We need to talk." I repeat my words shakily. My chest feels tight, strained and completely uncomfortable at the way Charles hardens. His entire being becomes firm and cold, his shoulders winding back and mouth flattening, losing the quiet smile that was there because of me just moments ago.

"No we don't." Charles counters with a shrug, casual, his hands are still on my body lingering on my waist and I feel flushed from tverything that's happened over the last five minutes.

"We can't pretend forever Charles." I whisper weakly, the words were meant to leave me strong and determined. Last night I was so certain this was the right thing, I still am I just hadn't realised how difficult it was going to be. Especially when he's touching me and looking at me like this.

"I can't hear this, whatever you're going to say I don't want it. I don't want to talk Lilly." Charles says quickly, my name leaving him in a beg. My mouth stutters as I race to find the right words, his hand has tightened on my waist, gripping me protectively. As though if he finds the right spot to hold me it would stop any of this from happening. Maybe it could. "S'il vous plaît, donnez-moi une dernière chance Fleur. Je ferai mieux que cette semaine, c'est promis." By the end of his blurred blubber of words Charles' jaw wobbles in time with mine. His shining green eyes are clouded with tears and when one falls I quickly use my thumb to wipe it away, as if it were never there. I'm pretending it was never there, I can't take that a simple request from me has caused this panic and grief from him. I can't stand the thought that in seconds I've made emotions like that stir inside of him. My hand is stuck to his jaw, caressing the dark stubble there and the smooth skin of his cheek.

I'm scared if I move it away I'll never be able to touch him again.

I don't know how he'll take this. I don't know how I'll take this (and I've had time to process it).

"You are wonderful." I praise and I mean the words entirely, I can feel my chest constrict as I say them, the truth in them suffocating me and begging me not to say any more. Charles might be the best person I've ever met. He's kind, polite, funny and loves me so deeply that most days I can feel his love radiating in my chest in a deep orange glow. "I love you and I never want you to change because you're the love of my life." I repeat his earlier words through a wobbled mouth. I watch as Charles shudders at my promise, bracing himself at the sound of them as if he never expected to hear them from me. I never thought I would say those words out loud either, much less mean them but here we are.

Charles is the love of my life and I've known it far before he coo'ed the words into the shell of my ear two hours ago.

My chest heaves an uneasy inhale my body growing cold and that pit opening back in my stomach. "But this isn't working." Charles shakes his head and my throat thickens. "You know it's not working." My voice wobbles through the words. Charles just stutters. He must know. He does, if not he wouldn't have spent the afternoon urging me to 'pretend' as he has.

"Fleur please," He whispers begging once more. I can't take it. "we've had a good day today, no?" I only nod in agreement because other than the bottomless pit of anxiety that my stomach has become today has been nothing short of perfect. But it's just a day.

"But before today?" I ask unsure. "When was the last time we even got through a conversation before you've had to leave it? Or drop in a change of plans?" We've had weeks, almost months, of push and pull between us fighting for what we want only to never quite get it. We're both suffering. Charles is only silent. I run my tongue over my lower lip, the words are there, in my mind swirling over and over but I don't quite have the strength to say them. His hand is still on my waist, burning me there. Then I blink and my eyelashes are so thick with hot salty tears that I find the words falling out of me.