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❝Once upon a time, a girl fell in love with her husband and made the stars realise that they'd gotten her soulmate wrong.❞
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It's a daunting thing, your first love. It's new, making you unsure and doubt whether it's love or just a mere...
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WHY WAS THE IDIOT not picking up?
"Pick up, Aden. Pick up," I muttered under my breath, leaning against the frame next to the door to his flat. I rang the doorbell multiple times before getting no response and resorted to trying to call my brother. Trying being the key word, since he wasn't picking up.
I puffed out a breath, and tried to call Logan, hoping he wouldn't answer. I didn't even know why I tried, but I guess I wanted to use up all of my options just in case. I heard a faint ringing in the background and frowned. Was a phone ringing somewhere?
The door suddenly yanked open and I stifled a gasp, jerking to a start.
"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Faithe." Logan stood at the threshold, a towel wrapped around his waist, his chest bare and hair wet. "I was in the shower and didn't hear the doorbell. I've been meaning to fix it: the sound's barely audible inside anymore. But come in. I'm sorry."
I squeaked out an "it's okay" and side-stepped past him to get in, my fists clenched by my sides. Why did this have to happen right after I got promised to get married? Pure torture.
I shivered at being in such a near proximity to him and walked right into the kitchen, depositing the food I brought into the refrigerator. I jumped at the sound of footsteps behind me, and held my breath as Logan reached to get a water bottle out of the fridge, standing right behind me, his warm breath fanning the nape of my neck, his chest pressed against my right shoulder.
"You brought food. Thank you, Faithe." He took a big gulp of water and moved away the slightest inch. "I honestly don't know what we'd do without you."
I smiled at him, shrugging. "It's not a big deal. We just cooked a lot and I brought in some for you guys." By we I meant that Evelyn had cooked, while Hana and I stood around watching, helping out here and there.
He raised his eyebrows and leaned forward, his hands landing on the counter on each side of me, caging me in. "It is a big deal, though, Faithe. We'd be starved of home-cooked food without you. Just accept the thanks, sunshine."
My eyes widened at the old pet name. He hadn't used it since we were early teens, but he used to claim that I resembled sunshine with my permanently positive attitude, happy mood and bright smile.
I exhaled. "Thanks for the thanks, then."
"You're welcome, sunshine." He leaned even closer, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips and I gulped, watching a water droplet travel down from his hair and land on his eyelash. He pressed his forehead against mine and whispered, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" I asked, my tone barely a murmur, my lips almost brushing against his. Almost.
"For hurting you. For continuing to hurt you even when I knew how it made you feel. How paining you, tortured me." He paused and made direct eye-contact with me. "I saw you yesterday, Faithe. During my date with Tara. I noticed you sitting at a table on your own, frowning down at your plate. I know that you saw us."
