If The Stars Could Reach Us - Lance Stroll

𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞

❝ Bᴜᴛ ɪғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ·s ᴏᴠᴇʀ. Wʜʏ ᴀᴍ I sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴀɢᴇs﹖ ❞

・・・・・・・・ ō͡≡o˞̶

𝓛𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮'𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓿

The moment she told Christopher off, I couldn't have been more proud of her. Which, of course, could be easily described as petty.

After my lips had crashed on hers, we made out in the empty dining hall for a few more minutes before Maya eventually pulled out of the kiss, a smirk on her lips nonetheless.

"This doesn't mean that everything is okay again," she says as she fixes her hair by pulling the loose strands behind her ear.

I nod, "I know."

I would be foolish to think we would be okay now because even though I know I still have feelings for her, I am also hurt and mad because rather than stay and fight with me, she ran off.

And somewhere deep inside me, I can also understand it. Because she was hurt, too.

Maya easily steps inside my car, and I slide into the driver's seat. Maya's phone is still connected to the Bluetooth of my car; I never really had the energy to delete hers. She opens her Spotify app, and before I know it, her music is blasting through my stereo.

I can't deny the high I am in after what I did to her during the dinner, the way she restrained her moans and tried her best not to let anyone know what we were up to. I doubt if Christopher saw through her act; he must know her face of arousal.

"Anyways," Maya scraps her throat. "You told me you're not the dad?"

"I am not. I still have the letter at home. Natalia didn't even deny faking it and admitted she did it because she wanted me," I keep rattling. I don't want there to be a silence between us that makes her admit the things she did with Christopher. "She did all of this on purpose."

Maya stays silent; she nods ever so lightly– a small acknowledgment she heard me. I park the car in the parking lot. And in the same silence, we walk to the elevator.

It isn't until the doors close she turns to me, and in an instinctive moment, she presses her lips against mine, tiptoeing to match my height. I cup both her cheeks, doubling my efforts in kissing her back.

Only when the elevator pings does Maya step back. Her pupils are blown, her lips are swollen, and her cheeks are reddish. She leaves the elevator to enter the penthouse, and my heart aches to see the familiar picture in front of me.

Yet, it feels cold at the same time.

When I finally step out of the elevator, Maya turns around, cold eyes staring back at me. My breath catches in my throat when I finally open my mouth to break the silence: "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" She asks.

"Like you hate me."

"I could never hate you, Lance."

I lick my lips, my gaze shifting to my feet for a few seconds before finding her eyes again, "You hated me before. You could easily hate me again."

"But I don't hate you," she walks over to me and stops just a few inches away from me.

My heart is battling my mind; I want to give in on all the temptation that has settled between us the past few hours, but I don't want to ignore the pain we both went through.

"I just–"

"Just call me princess," She interrupts me, tiptoeing again and moving her lips dangerously close to mine. "Please."

I close my eyes; I want to give in so badly, especially after what has already happened. But I also know that make-up sex is not going to repair the damage between us.

"Maya," I whisper against her lips.

"No," She trembles. "Lance... baby... please."

I take a step back, and Maya almost falls into my embrace; she almost looks drunk, "How much did you drink?"

"You were sitting next to me. You should know."

"Maya..."

"Just tell me if there's someone else already," she takes a step back, creating some space between us. "Just tell me if I am not the person you want anymore."

"There is no one else. There has never been anyone else since you," I reply, and I feel the ache in my heart. I closed my eyes as I knew I was going to regret my next words, "Did you beg him, too?"

"What?" She takes another step back, but the words slowly settle down, and she understands perfectly well to whom I am referring to. A look of disgust glazes over her expression. "Christopher and I didn't do anything."

"That must suck for him," I chuckle.

"What is your problem, Lance?" She bites at me. "Why are you trying to sabotage the only chance you have of fixing our problem?!"

"Really? Just because I don't want to have sex, I am sabotaging our chance of fixing us?"

She opens her mouth, but there are not words coming out. She closes her mouth again and just stares at me.

"I loved you! I love you, Maya. The past few weeks have been a personal hell. I want nothing else than to fix us and to find our way back to each other. I'm sorry that I don't want to fix us with make-up sex, and I am sorry that I was too fucking jealous and possessive that I did what I did under the table tonight."

"You have a strange way of showing you love me."

"I know I do," I admit. "But you were the one who ran away. You were the one that ran away as soon as something difficult was on our path... I told you I wasn't the dad, and still, you chose to run away instead of believing me and standing next to me."

"I was hurt, too!"

I nod at her words. I wasn't going to deny that she wasn't hurt, and I wasn't going to deny that she could've thought it was real. But it did hurt that she chose not to believe me, and that she chose to run away.

"I think there's a better question to ask here," I say, gaining immediate interest of the girl in front of me.

"What question?"

"Do you still love me, Maya?"

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A/N: I am so sorry for having put this story on hold. Inspiration has really been lacking me since I can't seem to find my muse in this story.

I promise to keep writing the story, but I don't want to write just to give you something... that would result in something with low quality, and I want all of you to love the story as much as I do.

And I promise that you won't have to wait another three months for the next part!! <3