Are you sure you don’t want me next to you tonight?
Luther’ POV
I hated how things had turned out. Watching Charlotte walk away from me felt like being punched in the chest. I could see the pain on her face even if she tried to hide it.
“Good night, Luther,” she said coldly, her back to me.
I did not reply. I could not. My throat felt tight, and everything I wanted to say died before it reached my lips. Why did I agree to stay the night? Why did I think being close to her again would fix anything? It was stupid. Her mother thought it would help Charlotte sleep better, knowing someone was nearby. But I knew better. The only thing I had done since I walked into this house was remind Charlotte of everything she was trying to forget. Still, I could not let her walk away like that. Not again.
“Charlotte….wait.” I climbed the stairs quickly, taking them two at a time. She was already halfway down the hallway, her pace faster now. I hated how far apart we felt. Just a few feet, yet it felt like miles.
“I want to be alone,” she said. Her voice was low, but sharp enough to stab me right in the heart. I ignored the warning and stepped closer.
“Why are you pushing me away?” I asked, not hiding the frustration in my tone. “Is it easier to pretend nothing ever happened between us?” She stopped walking but did not turn to face me. Her silence made my chest feel heavier.
“I am not pretending,” she finally said.
“Then what are you doing?” I stepped even closer, close enough to feel the warmth of her skin. “Because it feels like you are running from something. From me.” Charlotte shifted slightly but still refused to meet my eyes. Her skirt stopped mid-thigh, and I caught myself staring, God help me, I still wanted her. Every part of her.
“I am trying to protect myself,” she said softly. “Is that so wrong?”
“No,” I replied. “But I am not the enemy here.”
She looked down, her fingers curled tightly by her sides.
“Charlotte, talk to me.” My voice cracked as I said it. “You can hate me if that helps, but do not shut me out.” She took a shaky breath, and I moved behind her, my hand brushing her arm gently. I expected her to pull away, but she did not. That tiny detail gave me hope.
“I missed you,” I said quietly, letting the words fall from my heart before I could overthink them. “Every damn day.” Her breathing hitched, and I knew she heard the truth in my voice.
“Please don’t,” she said, voice trembling now. “It is already hard enough.”
“Then stop making it harder. Let me hold you.”
Her shoulders dropped slightly, as if she was tired of fighting with herself. I reached out and ran my fingers along her arm. Her skin was warm and smooth beneath my touch.
“I remember everything,” I said. “The way you laughed, the way you used to fall asleep beside me, the way you kissed me like the world stopped spinning.” She slowly turned her head, and our eyes finally met. I felt my heart twist. She looked at me like I was both her comfort and her pain.
“Nick,” she whispered.
“I know I messed things up,” I admitted. “But don’t tell me you do not feel anything anymore. I know you. I still see it in your eyes.”
Her lips parted, but no words came out. And then, without thinking, I leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against the side of her neck. She let out a shaky breath, not moving, not stopping me either.
“Do you want me to stop?” I asked. She closed her eyes, her answer trapped somewhere between her fear and her desire.
“I do not know,” she finally whispered. That was enough for me to stay. To hope. Just a little longer.
"You feel amazing," I murmured, my fingers brushing lightly over the curve of her left breast. Every part of me screamed to pull her into my arms and lock the world out, just so I could have her to myself. The need was turning into something uncontrollable.
"Let me go," she said suddenly, her voice sharp, just as my hand reached her chest.
"What?" I blinked, confused. I had thought we were finally reconnecting. That maybe, just maybe, she was starting to let me in.
"You have no right to touch me like that," she snapped, stepping back. Then she turned to face me, and her eyes… God, her eyes were blazing. Not just with anger, but with pain and a hunger she was too proud to admit.
"I see it, Charlotte," I said quietly. "You want me too. So why are you fighting this?"
"Because you've broken me too many times!" Her voice cracked at the end, and her hand moved to her chest like she was trying to hold herself together. "All you bring is pain, Luther. Can’t you see that?"
My heart sank. "That’s why I’m trying to fix it. I need a chance to show you I can be better… for you." She shook her head, fast, her lips trembling as she blinked back tears. "It is too lateLuther."
She turned away and placed her hand on her bedroom doorknob. My chest tightened as I watched her.
"Please don’t do this," I said, my voice almost a whisper.
"Now leave," she muttered.
"What?" My voice rose slightly, disbelief lacing my tone.
"You heard me," she said without turning back. "I’d rather face my nightmares alone than fall asleep knowing you’re still in this house."
Her words hit harder than I expected. I shoved my hands into my sweatpants pocket, trying to hide how much she had just wounded me.
"You don’t mean that," I said, stepping forward.
"Are you sure you don’t want me next to you tonight? Holding you close, whispering how much I’ve missed you? Waking you with kisses… or maybe with my mouth between your legs, giving you a morning to remember?"
She laughed bitterly. "Of course. How could I forget? You only come around when you want sex."
"That’s not true, and you know it." I took a breath, trying to steady myself. "This is more than that. You mean more than that."
"Do I? Because all your actions say otherwise." Her voice cracked again. "Now leave. And if you ever see me with Gavin, do not you dare create a scene."
"I told you, he insulted you. I was defending you," I said through clenched teeth.
She scoffed. "Maybe you should have punched yourself too, for the way you’ve treated me." Then she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"Will you ever forgive me?" I asked quietly, eyes locked on hers as she turned to glance back at me.
"That depends," she said softly, her voice cold and sharp like a blade. "On how quickly Gavin can erase the memory of your touch."
And with that, she slammed the door shut. The lock clicked into place, and I was left standing there, outside her world once again, with only silence and regret.
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