35. Inevitable
"It's been a while, so how is it going on?" The voice grits through the phone, rough and impatient.
I slip carefully onto the balcony, tugging the glass door shut behind me. "Can you chill out?" I hiss, keeping my voice low. "First you send someone to break into the apartment and then expect me not to panic? Do you even realize how weird that is?"
I continue, sharper now, unable to hold it back. "It's been almost a month, and we still don't have the so-called 'stalker'."
I grip the railing. His silence presses heavier than words, and before he can cut in, I add quickly, "We're living together now, as you know. So I'll get you whatever you want."
I don't mention the main thing- that I've started to fall for real..
"Fine, then meet me this Friday" His voice cuts in leaving no room for argument.
The call clicks dead before I can reply.
I stand there on the balcony, phone still pressed to my ear though the line is nothing but silence now. My chest tightens, a pit forming in my stomach.
I have two days to figure out what to say, what to hide, how to keep him from prying too close.
But all I know is that I'll not let anything happen to us.
I come back from the gym earlier than usual, towel still hanging around my neck, sweat drying on my skin. Normally, I'd shower and crash on the couch, but today isn't normal. Today, I want to do something for her. Something that isn't just words or stolen kisses in the dark.
Amara deserves more than that.
Her ballet class ends at seven. That gives me two hours. Two hours to make sure tonight is perfect.
I step out onto the balcony and take in the view—New York stretched out like a glittering canvas. This is where it'll happen. This is where I'll make her smile so wide I'll forget what breathing feels like.
First, the lights. I string fairy lights along the railing, their soft glow curling like gold around the steel. When I plug them in, the balcony looks like something out of a dream like a private little universe just for us.
I line scented candles of different sizes across the table. The scent of vanilla drifts up, mixing with the sharp chill of the evening breeze.
I unfold the table cloth and spread it over the small dining table I dragged closer to the railing so she can see the skyline while we eat. Two wine glasses and a bottle of wine waiting on ice.
I've got everything ready inside- fresh pasta, cherry tomatoes, herbs, olive oil. I'll cook after I pick her up, so it's still warm when we eat.
Then, I take a step back and look at everything. The lights, the candles, the city stretching out like it knows what's coming.
For once, it doesn't feel like too much. For once, it feels like enough for her.
And still, in the back of my mind, I hear her laugh, soft and real. I want that sound tonight, I want her eyes wide and bright when she sees this, I want her to jump in my arms.
I grab my car key, I'm halfway to the door when I pull out my phone.
8 unread messages. All from her.
I swipe open.
Then another. An attachment.
I tap it.
She's in a tutu. Soft white against her skin, her hair pulled back tight, those eyes glittering like she knows exactly what she does to me. Her lips are puckered, a teasing kiss aimed straight at me.
My jaw clenches. My grip on the phone tightens.
My Swan 3: I misss youuu
My Swan 3: Heyyy, im doneeee ??wru?
Xavv?? Hello?
Three missed calls glare back at me.
Then the last message, like a punch to my chest:Im heading to meet the kids... well bye
Shit.
My throat tightens. I glance at the time, again. 6:30.
I should've been there thirty minutes ago.
Fuck.
My phone was on silent the whole damn time.
I catch my reflection in the mirror as I grab my wallet.
Black tee. Black jeans.
My fingers tighten around the keys. I told her once, "Call me anytime, wherever you are, I'll be there." And tonight? I wasn't.
An idea hits me.
I swipe to dial the one person I know she's with. The call connects on the second ring.
"Mom-"
"Sweetheart," she cuts in softly, like she knows. "Amara's here, she looks sad."
That's because of me.
"Mom," I say, forcing my voice steady. "Can you tell me what color dress she's wearing?"
There's a beat of silence before she answers. "Oh... she's wearing a brown tank top, with grey jeans. Why do you ask?"
"Thanks, Mom."
I hang up before she can press. My jaw sets, mind already spinning.
I storm into my closet, yanking hangers, tossing shirts like a man possessed.
Brown. I need something brown. Anything.
Fucking hell- I don't own brown. Black? Plenty. Gray? Too much. But brown? Not a damn thing.
I rip through another shelf, cursing under my breath. I've never regretted my color choices this much in my life.
Then I see a something, its tucked in the corner, under an old duffel bag.
──────????°? ? ?°?? ??──────
I pull into the orphanage driveway, engine growling low in the evening air. The sun's dipping, painting everything in gold and shadow.
The moment I step through the gates, I see mom.
She's standing near the garden, arms folded, one brow arched the second her eyes take in what I'm wearing. "So this is what it's about?" she asks, voice laced with knowing amusement, her hand gesturing at my clothes.
I don't even try to deny it. My chest is still heaving from the rush here, but my voice is steady when I ask the only thing that matters.
"Mom, where is she?"
She tilts her head to the garden. "Backyard. With the kids. She's... quieter than usual."
That last part punches through my chest like a blade. Amara quiet? That's not her. She's sunlight, she's laughter. If she's quiet, I fucked up more than I thought.
I don't waste another second. I walk towards the sound of little voices and giggles carried by the breeze.
I see her.
She's sitting cross-legged on the grass, Lily sitting on her lap, her hands busy braiding her hair. She's smiling, but it's that polite, soft smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
She doesn't notice me at first. Her black hair tied up messily, a few strands escaping, kissing her cheeks. She looks perfect. She always does.
I take a step closer, and that's when her eyes flick up.
"Amara." I breathe out, my voice hoarse.
She looks at me for three long seconds. Then she presses a kiss to the little girl's hair and murmurs, "Go play with your friends, baby."
When she runs off, Amara gets up slowly, dusting her jeans, her chin tilting the slightest bit higher—like a silent wall between us.
Her gaze sweeps over me, slow and sharp, lingering on the brown leather jacket and the grey jeans. I see the flicker in her eyes—the recognition.
Matching.
Just like that day at the arcade when she made us wear matching clothes during our Date, and like the matching Hello Kitty pajama pants. She never said it out loud, but I noticed. She likes it when we match. Likes the idea of us being... us.
That's why I asked Mom. That's why I tore my closet apart for something—anything—in her color.
"Uhm..." I clear my throat, forcing a sheepish smile. "Coincidence?"
She crosses her arms, eyes narrowing with that playful little glint that tells me I'm in trouble. "Coincidence?" she repeats.
"Yeah." I nod. "Total accident."
"Mhm." She tilts her head, scanning me again like she's filing evidence for later. "Sure and I just coincidentally ended up waiting for you for 30 minutes."
Ouch.
"Amara-"
"Nope." She holds up her hand. "You don't get to say my name all soft and deep and think I'll melt."
"Come on, Swan" I murmur, taking a step closer, but she backs away on purpose.
"I'm busy" she says, wagging a finger at me, then turns as she heads towards the little table where the kids are working on some messy craft project. "The kids need me."
"The kids have you every day," I shoot back, following her like a fool, my voice dropping low so only she can hear. "I don't."
I do have her everyday, but do I care if I sound despo? No.
Her steps falter for a second—just enough to tell me I hit the mark—but then she spins, all fake innocence and smug grin. "Wow," she says, eyes sparkling as they meet mine. "You sound... desperate."
"I am," I admit without shame, leaning in close enough for her to feel my breath. "Desperate for my girl."
Her lips part, her cheeks flushing that soft pink I love, and for a heartbeat, she doesn't move.
"Better keep up, Hayes." she tosses over her shoulder, swaying her hips just enough for me to notice and I do.
I notice everything.
I follow her into the main hall, my fists clenching in my pockets because all I want to do is grab her and make her listen but she's laughing with one of the kids now, crouching down like she didn't just wreck me two seconds ago.
I watch her.
Her smile is soft now, and its real, her voice sweet, her hands gentle as she fixes a bow in a little girl's hair. It hits me like a punch to the ribs—how much she belongs here. How much I belong with her.
"Xavier!" Noah yells, running up to me. I crouch and fist-bump him, but my eyes They're on her. Always her.
When she finally stands, I'm there. Close enough that she gasps. "Done ignoring me?" I ask, low and calm.
She smirks. "Who said I was ignoring you? I'm just busy."
"Busy giving me hell." I mutter, but she hears it and she laughs.
"I like watching you work for it." she says, tilting her head, eyes dancing like she's the one in control.
Work for it.
I glance at my watch—6:50. Ten minutes before I take her away from here. Ten minutes before her teasing stops and her jaw drops at what I've done for her.
So I lean in, so close my lips nearly brush her ear, and whisper "Enjoy your little game, Swan. Because tonight? I'm winning."
She stiffens, then pulls back with that smug smile like she isn't already curious as hell. "Big words, Hayes," she purrs, walking away with a sway in her step. "Now, don't follow me or else I'll kill you."
She lifts her hands to her hair, pulling the bun loose, letting those dark waves spill down her back in a slow, deliberate fall. It's like she knows I'm watching.
I am watching.
She steps toward the glass door, the low rumble of thunder outside vibrating faintly in the distance. Gray clouds churn above, heavy and close, as if even the sky's holding its breath.
Fine, then. I won't follow her.
She reaches the door and pauses, hand on the frame, and glances over her shoulder. Her brows knit slightly when she realizes I'm still leaning against the wall, arms folded.
"Hey?" she calls, narrowing her eyes. "Aren't you gonna come?"
I just arch a brow at her, saying nothing.
Her lips press together in that defiant little line. She huffs, then steps out anyway—bare feet touching the wooden deck as the wind tugs at her hair.
I move slowly, letting my steps fall just a little behind hers.
I see her waiting under the small roof near the door.
She was waiting for me.
The first drop hits her nose and she gasps like a kid, tipping her head back with the widest smile I've seen all day. "It's raining!" she laughs, grabbing my wrist. "Come on!"
She pulls me as if she forgot she wasmad at me, I follow, because how the hell could I not?
She spins out into the open space, her hair catching the silver glint of water, and me? I just stand there for a second, watching.
God, she's beautiful.
She's laughing like the world hasn't touched her yet. Like nothing bad could ever exist.
"Xavier!" she calls, eyes sparkling, rain dripping down her cheeks like diamonds. "You coming or just gonna stare?"
I should probably get diamond for her, now.
I smirk, stepping out into the downpour, the cold biting my skin. "Maybe I like staring."
She rolls her eyes, but I see the blush even through the rain and then she spins. Arms wide, like the storm belongs to her.
Like I belong to her.
My hands twitch to grab her, but I just walk closer, every step slow, steady, like she's gravity and I've stopped fighting it.
When I finally reach her, she's still laughing, droplets clinging to her lashes. "Having fun, Swan?" I murmur, close enough that my breath mixes with the rain between us.
She nods, smiling, then whispers like it's a secret "Best part of my day."
Her laugh softens, fading into the sound of rain hitting the earth. She looks at me, lips parted, cheeks flushed with more than just the cold.
My hand brushes hers, nothing more. But her pinky curls around mine, like a question.
I answer by curling mine back. And then neither of us move. Not for a second. Not for a breath. Just standing there, pinkies locked like two kids who don't know what to do with everything they're feeling.
Her eyes flick down to my mouth. That's all it takes.
I tilt my head, and she leans in, rain dripping from her lashes, and then—Soft.
Her lips on mine, warm against the cold storm around us. It's nothing like the other kisses we had. This one is patient, reverent. Like she's trying to memorize me. Like she's letting me memorize her.
The rain slides down her neck and my hand rises, fingers brushing her jaw, tilting her just enough so I can taste the quiet sigh that leaves her mouth.
She whispers something against my lips, and I catch only two words, "Missed you."
My chest tightens. My free hand grips her waist, and for a second, I pull her close enough to feel her heartbeat crash against mine.
Our foreheads rests together, her pinky is still hooked around mine, like she never plans on letting go.
"Xavier, you're supposed to do something right now." Her voice pulls me out of the haze of rain and her lips.
I ask still holding her pinky like it's the most important thing in the world. "What?"
"You know!" She gestures wildly, rain dripping down her hair. "Something..."
I pause, brows furrowed.
Something? What does she mean? What would the perfect guy do? Hell, what would Logan do if Clara was standing here? Would he take photos? Say something poetic?
"Xav," she pouts, lower lip jutting out just enough to wreck me, "you're supposed to lift me in your strong arms. Like you did before!"
Oh.
I step closer, until the rain is beating against both of us, until I can feel the warmth rolling off her body. My hands slip to her waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of her damp tank top. Her breath stutters.
"Like this?" I murmur, and then I lift her effortlessly, off the ground.
Her arms loop around my neck and she laughs, the sound spilling out into the rain like music, and I swear I could live in that sound forever.
"You're insane." she whispers again, forehead brushing mine, droplets clinging to her lashes.
"No," I say, voice low, words rumbling against her skin as I hold her tighter, "I'm yours."
Her breath hitches. She tilts her head, and for a second, everything slows—the rain, the world, even the pounding in my chest.
Our foreheads press together, and I kiss her.
Soft at first, just a brush, tasting rain and her laughter.
Then deeper, because I can't stop, because she's in my arms and I'm never letting her go.
She melts into me, arms tightening around my neck like I'm the only thing keeping her grounded.
She wraps her legs around my waist, holding on like I'm hers.
"You're stuck with me forever." I breathe against her lips, the words melting into the rain between us.
"Oh no," she whispers, her tone playful, "the Ring Lord has trapped me."
"That's right" I murmur, a smile ghosting across my mouth, "there's no escape now."
"Bold of you to assume I'd want to escape." Her lips tilt into a smile, soft and defiant, right before she presses a soft kiss on my lips.
The rain eases into a soft drizzle, the storm quieting as if the world itself knows we need this moment.
Her lips pull away from mine, just barely, her breath warm against my mouth when she whispers, "I love you, Xavier."
I press my forehead to hers again, my voice rough with everything I feel. "I love you more, Amara."
She tilts her head, her smile brushing against my lips, and murmurs, "Can't we love each other equally?"
I smile against her lips, pressing one last lingering kiss before pulling back just enough to see her face. Her cheeks are flushed, hair damp from the rain, eyes shining like the world begins and ends with me.
Her stormy blue eyes meet my cloudy gray ones.
"No," I murmur, tracing her lower lip with my thumb, "because you always deserve more." My other hand tightens my grip on her thighs. "Because I'll always find a way to love you more than yesterday."
Her lips curve into a slow smile before she leans in, breath warm against my ear. "Then love me like the rain loves the earth loud enough to drown out everything else."
I drag my mouth to her jaw, my voice rough, a low promise meant only for her. "I'll love you like the sea loves the shore, I'll come back every damn time, no matter how far I'm pulled away."
She laughs softly, "Then love me like the stars love the night, constant even when unseen."
She is my star.
My grip tightens on her thighs, pulling her closer as my voice drops into a growl. "I'll love you like fire loves the wind, until there's nothing left but us."
Her smile turns wicked, testing me, challenging me to go further. "Then love me like roots love the soil, strong enough to hold through every storm."
I press my forehead to hers, my lips brushing hers as I breathe the words like a sin. "I'll love you like the sun loves the horizon, rising and burning for you in every lifetime."
She closes her eyes and when she opens them, I swear I see galaxies "Then love me like death loves silence- inevitable, and so consuming it leaves nothing else behind."
I smile, because I've already given her that.