Desire (wlw)

XXVII.

*I kept this chapter short but sweet. Enjoy!

Isabel

The walk through Lea's lobby is calm, almost too calm considering the thoughts running through my head. The silence between us isn't awkward—it's comfortable, familiar, even—but it's thick with the tension that's been building all night. My heels click softly against the polished floor, and I catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye. She looks peaceful, her lips slightly parted as if she's lost in her own thoughts.

The elevator ride is just as quiet, and I find myself glancing at her reflection in the mirrored walls. She meets my eyes for a split second, then quickly looks away, pretending to adjust her bag. I smirk at her shy attempt to avoid whatever it is we're both feeling.

When the elevator dings and we step into the hallway, I follow her to her apartment, watching as she unlocks the door with ease. She pushes it open and steps inside, holding it for me. As soon as I cross the threshold and the door clicks shut behind us, it's like something snaps in me.

Without a second thought, I step forward and press her against the door. My hands find her waist, and I feel her body stiffen slightly before she relaxes into my touch. I lean in, my lips brushing hers softly at first, testing the waters. But the way she responds, the way her hands slide up to my shoulders, pulling me closer, tells me everything I need to know.

As I pepper kisses down her neck, my mind drifts back to the night when everything between us changed. It was chaos in my apartment—my emotions unraveling, the weight of grief pressing down on me so hard I couldn't breathe. And then there was Lea. Calm, steady, and unwavering, she stayed. She didn't push me or demand more than I could give. She just held me together when I couldn't do it myself.

I don't know what I would've done without her that night.

Now she's right in front of me, and all I can think about is how much I owe her—for that night, for every unspoken apology I never had the courage to say. She's done so much for me, even when I didn't deserve it. And here she is, letting me in, trusting me in ways I never thought she would again.

I've never been good at words, never known how to articulate what I feel without it sounding cold or distant. But this—this closeness, the warmth of her body against mine—feels like the only way I know how to show her. To tell her, thank you. To tell her, I'm sorry. To tell her, you matter to me.

So, I let my hands roam her body, pulling her closer, letting her feel everything I can't bring myself to say out loud. She deserves so much more, but this, for now, is all I have to give.
My lips make my way back up to hers, one of my hands making its way up to the nape of her neck. She's soft, warm, and everything I don't deserve but somehow still have.

When I pull back, just enough to catch my breath, I rest my forehead against hers. My voice is low, steady, but there's a tremor there, one I can't quite hide. "You've been everything to me lately," I admit, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. "I don't know how to even begin to repay you for that."

She shakes her head, her hands sliding to rest against my chest. "You don't have to repay me, Isabel. That's not how this works."

Her voice is gentle, but her gaze is firm, like she's daring me to argue. But I can't—not when she's looking at me like that. Like I'm not some broken thing she's trying to fix but someone worth standing beside.

"I want to," I whisper, brushing my thumb against her jawline. "I want to make up for everything."

Lea tilts her head slightly, her expression softening. "You already have."

Her words hit me harder than I expect, and I feel something in my chest loosen, a weight I didn't realize I was carrying. She pulls me into another kiss, slower this time, and it feels like everything else fades away.