It was hard, but you were defiant. Christopher had pushed you too far this time and your heart couldn't take the onslaught anymore. He had to learn, but so did you, and you were tired of the voice in your head reminding you of it. Cutting him out of your life was like removing air from your lungs though, leaving you gasping. What you wouldn't give to go back to that night.
That night. Even as you slugged your way through countless manila folders flung across your coffee table, you replay the events in your head as you scribbled notes into the margins of papers.
Chris gently pushed the girl off his lap before standing up and grabbing your arms lightly. "Y/N, please lower your voice. We're in public," He said, lowering his own voice as if to demonstrate.
You weren't listening though. All you could see was his beautiful brown eyes, and the way that his lips formed his words delicately when he talked. All you could see was a man you could never, would never, have. And it burned. It burned to know that even as his best friend you would never be enough for him.
You pressed the pen into the paper a little harsher.
"I won't do it any more. I love you, but I have to go,"
A little harsher. The indent would be sure to show on what lay underneath.
Sliding into the backseat, you looked out the window, just in time to see Chris bust through the door and stop, watching as your taxi drove away. And maybe it was the trick of the city lights, but you thought, you could have almost swore, that you saw tears trailing down his cheeks in an act of heartbreak that mirrored your own.
The paper ripped, sending your pen gliding across the folder that was barely withstanding the force to begin with. Sighing, you threw it aside and cleared the other folders off your couch before stacking them somewhat neatly with the others on the table. Once your head was free of any potential blockage, you threw yourself on the cushions.
For the past two weeks, work had been hell. Chris was constantly at Sony, and the man was a multitasker. Business was first priority, but after whatever meeting he had, he was always to be found hanging around your office. You were running out of excuses, as well as people to cover for you, and were sure that the only reason your coworkers took pity on you was because of the loud crack that constantly echoed from your chest.
Home wasn't safe either. When Christopher wasn't at your door, pleading to be let in, there were remnants of him laying just out of sight, waiting to be found. A mug that he used when visiting, stashed in a cabinet, ensuring a permanent place in your kitchen. The toothbrush in your bathroom drawer that made you cringe as you couldn't bring yourself to throw it away. An old hoodie that he had left long ago, stashed in the back of your closet for when you missed him. The one you were currently wearing, despite the pain your heart screamed as you smelled his fading cologne.
As you sat there pondering how long it would take the toothbrush to grow mold, and therefore be able to throw it away, there was a knock at the door. It was inconsistent; two knocks, then one, then three or four, hard to tell as they blended together. Standing up, you approached the door cautiously and peeped through the peephole.
There, of course, stood Chris. Okay, maybe it was a bit gracious to call it standing. He was barely able to stay atop both feet, swaying violently as he attempted to hold his head up as well. Drunk. Christopher Velez was absolutely shitfaced.
It only took a moment before you pulled open the door. As much as you wanted to avoid him, he was much to hammered to be left alone in a building he did not reside in. He was too hammered to be alone, period.
Hearing the door begin to whine as it opened, Chris more or less snapped his head up, bloodshot eyes widening. "Y/N, you- yoouu answered," He slurred, taking a few shaky steps before crashing into you and sending you stumbling back as you locked your arms around him to hold him steady.
"You're completely sloshed, Chris. I couldn't leave you out there," You said, kicking the door closed before hauling him to the couch. He stood next to it for a second before collapsing against the cushions.
Between hiccups, he managed his words. "I had to see you. You've been avoiding me. Why?" He pointed an unsteady finger at you.
"Chris, you're too drunk for us to be having this conversation right now. We can talk in the morning," You said, rubbing your tired eyes as you sat on the opposite end of the couch.
"No-o, I'm not. I want to talk now," He whined, crossing his arms over his chest. Even now, he made you smile.
"I will be here in the morning. Get some sleep," You started to get up, but felt a tug at your hand that landed you right back in your spot on the couch.
"Fine, but please, stay with me?" Chris begged, looking into your eyes with his big, albeit bloodshot, brown eyes. The same brown eyes that convinced you to do practically every stupid thing you had ever done.
Christopher took your silence as an answer, and wrapped his arms around your waist before resting his head right above your heart. In a flash, he was out.
Tentatively, you wrapped your arms around him, hands playing with the hair at the base of his neck, before resting your cheek atop his head. As much as you hated to admit it, having him with you again felt like ecstasy. You didn't know what would happen tomorrow, but for tonight it was a welcome relief to pretend like everything was fine.
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Hello babies!! As promised, here is part two of the WIP saga. I was going to finish the story here, but decided to give everyone a chance to refresh and catch up before the third and final installment :) Part three will be up shortly, so I hope you enjoy this! Thank you for all your love and support with this book, it means everything <3
Paige
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CNCO English Imagines
Fanfictionfor all the English-speaking CNCOwners out there, I got you ;)
