Runaway affair

Feels Like

Feels Like- Gracie Abrams

August 20th, 2019-

He hadn't slept a wink that night. 

Tossing and turning as she slept soundly beside him. Her blonde hair, freshly done, was sprawled across in every which way on the silk pillow that her head was laying on. 

It had been a busy day for her. Between shooting her new film, which Marvel made her swear to secrecy, and the pilates class she had drug him to that morning, she was wiped out. 

As he should have been too.

Yet, he laid there on his side, watching as the streaks of moonlight made its way through the shallow curtains and onto the floor of the bedroom. Nothing seemed to matter in that moment, but the feeling had been nagging at him all day.

The guilt on her face. The way her eyes pleaded for a second chance, for another go around, that would relieve the pit in his stomach. 

But he turned her away. How could he trust her after everything they had been through? All the hell that she pulled him through so it filed in line with her best interests. 

So for now, he would sit there regretting it. 

Giving up all hope in rest, Ford padded out through the dark room in search of the round door knob. When he found it, he tiptoed out of the room, cringing at the noise the door made as it closed behind him. 

For a few paces, he stood there, silently expecting her to follow behind him. Yet, nothing came about but silence. 

He accompanied her to Budapest where she had been filming. His days consisted of spending all the time he could with her. It was the offseason, allowing for a bit of breathing room between now and the couple of months they could share vacationing at topical destinations until training began again. 

The television had to have been too loud, he thought. It was in fact the dead of night and this condo provided by Marvel, gave off an eerie feeling at night, alone. 

Earlier, he could recall the beaming sun that radiated down against the ground he had walked on. He was trying to find something that could occupy his mind whilst she was working all day.

It was hard for him though. Such a big city, yet he felt so small when he didn't have anyone to explore it with.

Ford glanced at the sliding door, leading out to the balcony. Surely no one would be crazy enough to sit alone in the night, studying the moon and stars.

Pulling the handle gently, the door slid open, enveloping the man in warm, humid air. Only a white tank top and sweat-shorts adorned his body, deeming suitable for the weather. 

And so he sat there. With nothing but himself and his thoughts.

A part of him wanted to believe she thought of him too, lying awake hoping that he would come back. But who was she kidding and who was he to blame her if she didn't. 

He couldn't shake it though, the feeling of guilt nor the look on her face when she tore away from his gaze. He couldn't stop as she occupied every single crevice of his mind.

It was wrong, I mean it had to be. 

Considering the woman he was supposed to love was inside asleep in a bed they were supposed to be sharing. Yet, here he sat, thinking of a girl who couldn't give him the time of day.

Something about her presence hooked onto him, almost like a jellyfish in the ocean about to sting its victim. However, when she were to sting him, that venom, the pain, it never went away.