Breaking the Grid

Meant to be together

I wrap my arms around her from behind, the fresh bouquet of flowers held right in front of her eyes. The scent of roses, subtle yet lingering, fills the room. She looks up, meeting my gaze in the reflection of the mirror, her expression unreadable. Her eyes flicker to the flowers before she exhales softly, her breath almost a sigh.

"Didn't you already give me some this morning, Blair?" she murmurs, gently moving them out of her way.

I grin, my hold on her tightening just slightly. "And?" I ask, my voice low. "I can't give flowers to my girlfriend?"

She shifts in my arms, slipping away as smoothly as water through fingers. "It's not what's going to make me forgive you," she says simply, her tone calm, but there's a weight behind her words.

I stand there for a moment, the warmth of her absence settling on my skin, before moving toward her bed. I sit down, the mattress dipping beneath me as I lay the flowers on top, my arms resting on my knees. I watch her move around the room, tidying up her things, her movements precise, like she's keeping herself busy to avoid looking at me for too long. My eyes track her, following every small shift of her body, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, the way her fingers brush over the fabric of her jacket before folding it.

I swallow, my voice quieter when I finally speak. "It's been four days, love."

She pauses but doesn't turn.

"What should I do?" I ask, my words heavier than before.

I see her glance at me from the corner of her eye, her lips pressing together, but she doesn't answer.

The silence stretches, and I can't take it anymore. I push myself up from the bed, throwing my phone onto it without care, and stride towards her. She doesn't move as I place my hands on her waist, my thumbs lightly grazing her sides, feeling the warmth of her through the thin fabric of her shirt.

She blows out a breath, finally meeting my gaze. I smile at her, soft and hopeful, but she forces herself not to react, not to let it crack through whatever walls she's trying to keep up.

"Are you ready to go?" she asks, her voice steady.

"Of course," I say without hesitation.

She nods, picking up her jacket. Then, without looking at me, she tosses my car keys in my direction. I catch them with one hand, my eyes never leaving her face.

 We step out of her apartment, the quietness between us stretching as we make our way down to the parking lot. The night air is cool, but not cold, just enough to remind me that it's late. I walk slightly ahead of her, my hands in my pockets as we approach my car. Without a word, I pull open the passenger door for her.

She hesitates for a fraction of a second before sliding inside, her movements composed but just a little stiff. I shut the door gently behind her, running my tongue over my teeth as I walk around to the driver's side. Settling in, I start the engine, the low purr of the Lamborghini filling the silence.

She still doesn't speak.

I pull out of the parking space smoothly, one hand resting on the wheel as I glance over at her. She's staring out the window, her fingers idly playing with the zipper of her jacket.

I decide to break the silence. "Have you noticed?"

She hums softly, acknowledging that she's listening but not giving me much.

I smirk, tapping my fingers against the wheel. "New Lamborghini. Bought it yesterday."

From the corner of my eye, I see her head turn slightly as she takes in the interior, finally paying attention. A second later, she speaks, her voice dry.