Afterlight (Fanfiction) ✓

chapter twenty-one

Chloe

LIFE had become an unpredictable whirlwind. Just last month, I'd been walking across a stage to accept my high school diploma, and now here I was—sitting in a diner in Canada, kissing the man who, only days ago, had been tasked with killing me. Justin's lips still lingered in my thoughts, like a soft, haunting melody I couldn't shake. He was a puzzle I wasn't sure I wanted to solve—dangerous and maddeningly complicated, yet so unexplainably comforting. Somehow, against all logic, he felt like someone I could lean on.

I sat in the passenger seat, my fingers fumbling over one another as I stared at my lap. It was a nervous habit I couldn't break, one that betrayed just how much my thoughts were racing. My skin still hummed with the memory of his touch, the bittersweet weight of his kiss.

"Everything alright?" Justin's voice broke the silence, drawing my eyes reluctantly to him.

"Yeah," I sighed, though my voice lacked conviction. I went back to staring at my hands, not ready to meet the intensity of his gaze.

"You sure?" he asked, his tone soft, but there was an edge of concern that caught me off guard.

I nodded, stealing a glance at him. "Did I make you feel uncomfortable?" he pressed, his words more careful this time.

"No." My response came quickly, almost defensively, as I turned to him with a glare. "Not at all."

"Good," he said, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. He reached for the door handle, but not before shooting me one more look that made my heart stutter. "You look really beautiful, by the way."

His words caught me off guard, and all I could manage was a shy, "Thank you," as I slipped out of the car. I shut the door behind me, standing on the sidewalk while I waited for him to join me. My cheeks still burned from his compliment.

Justin came around the car and stood beside me, his presence both comforting and electrifying. Together, we walked into the diner, the sharp chill of the air conditioning brushing against my skin as the door swung shut behind us. At the podium, a waitress greeted us—a familiar face who had witnessed one of my more embarrassing outbursts toward Justin not long ago.

"Table for two, I'm guessing?" she asked with a knowing smile, grabbing a pair of menus. Without waiting for a response, she led us to a booth by the window.

Justin slid into the seat across from me as she set down the menus. "The usual, right?" she asked, her gaze lingering on Justin.

He nodded, not bothering to look at the menu. "You still want breakfast?" he asked, his attention shifting to me.

I tilted my head, a small smile creeping onto my face. "I'm really in the mood for waffles." My voice was light, but I wasn't joking—I could practically taste the maple syrup already.

"Breakfast it is," Justin said, his lips quirking into a genuine smile that made my stomach flip. He glanced at the waitress. "Two waffles, and two breakfast plates, if you're still offering them this late."

"Of course," she replied, jotting down the order. "What about drinks?"

"Sprite," I said, folding my hands in my lap.

"Water," Justin added.

The waitress nodded and walked off, leaving us alone.

Justin leaned back in his seat, his dark eyes fixed on me. "Sprite and waffles?" he teased, his grin widening.

"It's not as bad as it sounds," I shot back, rolling my eyes, though his laugh made it impossible not to smile. His gaze lingered, and I felt myself growing warm under the intensity of it.