What happens in Vegas

33| Mood

Chapter 33: Mood (Bella's POV)

He says he'd definitely wanna know if I love him, then how doesn't he understand that I would too? 

I love being with him and I love falling in love with him, but it's starting to tug at my heartstrings, knowing that he can't tell me he loves me. I start to wonder why. Is it because he doesn't love me? Doesn't he think I deserve hearing that? It's getting a little exhausting, having him by me all the time, him treating me like he loves me, like I'm all his and he's all mine, but he won't say it. 

He can't or he won't, I don't know. But I'm not hearing it. And even though actions speak louder than words, the words matter. They always do. When he told me he wanted to wait until he told me he loved me, that gave me hope, it became a promise. A promise that he'd love me someday, he'd tell me he loved me someday. Now that hope is lost. I don't want to say it's completely lost, I'm holding on. For a little longer. 

I don't want to lose him, but how can I love someone who can't even say they love me? 

While all this went through my head, he was dozed off beside me, the sun starting to rise through the cracks in his blinds. I took the opportunity and said it while he was still asleep. I leaned in closer to him, holding the side of his face in my hand, my thumb caressing his cheek gently. 

I leaned in, softly kissing his lips which he faintly kissed back in his sleep. "I love you, Noah," I whispered. 

"Mm," he grunted, shuffling around and changing his sleeping position until he was clutching onto my waist tightly, his head resting in the crook of my neck while I ran my fingers through his hair, giving my eyes a rest and closing them. 

I love him. 

I woke up the next morning to an empty bed which led to an immediate frown settling down on my face. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. I have to get home. I slowly climbed out and walked over to his dresser, grabbing a pair of socks for my cold feet and slipping them on, the part that was supposed to sit on your heel, sitting way up higher than it should. 

I threw my hair up in a bun and then realized that the shower water was running. I hummed while trying the door, finding it open. I pushed it further and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door as faintly as I could behind me. The curtain was closed and I could hear him sigh in relief under the sprays of water while steam came out from the top of the curtain. 

I had a very bright idea of joining him in the shower and seducing him into admitting that he loves me, but that's not a good idea at all, actually. If he loves me, he should be the one telling me independently rather than me making him confess. 

But everyone needs a little push sometimes, right? 

Not for love, Bella. 

Especially for love, Bella. 

I walked over, my socked feet padding against the rug until I reached the curtain. I pulled it open, peeking my head in, not letting my eyes wander and keeping them glued to his face. "Hi," I said. 

His eyes shot open and he jumped, probably startled. "Whoa, hi," he laughed, his hand on his chest, "You scared the shit out of me." 

"Sorry," I smiled, rubbing my eye. 

"Goodmorning," he grinned. 

"Goodmorning," I replied, "I was gonna head back home, I thought I'd say bye before I changed and stuff," I informed him. 

"Why are you leaving?" he frowned. 

"I gotta get home," I chuckled. 

"Not yet," he shook his head.