"Talk?" I finally asked after a moment of processing her serious words.
Chicago gently guided me to walk alongside her, "Here let's go somewhere private," she said as we began walking through the thin snow.
I felt knots grow in my stomach as Chicago led me over somewhere far away from the groups of people. I didn't really have a reason to be nervous—it was just that the words triggered something within me.
It had me asking myself every question—If I had done something wrong, if she had done something wrong, or maybe... maybe if she wanted this to all be over. For us to be over.
It's like every single memory flashed to the front of my head as I tried to get to the bottom of what she needed to discuss.
When we had finally made it to a bench located on a hilltop that overlooked the festival below, I felt myself growing more nervous—anxious to hear what she was about to say.
Chicago guided me to sit on her lap as we sat down on the bench, "Angel, breathe, it's not that deep," she reassured me, easily making me let out a deep breath.
Normally, if she says it's not that deep, it really isn't.
I blinked a few times, "Sorry, I just, don't know what to expect I guess."
Chicago gently brushed one of the curls away from my face, "It's nothing for you to be this pressed about, I promise."
I nodded a few times, letting out another deep breath, "Okay... okay, what is it?"
Chicago pursed her lips as she stared up into my eyes, "Well, I got offered to study alongside some of the most renowned stylists next semester."
I felt my brows raise as a smile grew on my lips before I inevitably pressed a short kiss to Chicago's lips, "Wow, that's amazing—we have to celebrate," I said as I pulled back slightly allowing my grin to grow wider.
Chicago tilted her head, easily making my smile slowly fade when she didn't match my enthusiasm, "What is it?" I asked, clearly confused.
"Well, it's uh... It's actually in Paris," she revealed, and I practically felt my entire face fall, grasping what she had just said.
Paris... Wow, that's really far.
I felt my chest tighten, suddenly recalling Tate—and then after, recalling Karter—and just...
Why does everyone leave?
What's wrong with me?
Chicago frowned, pulling me closer to her, "Angel please don't look so upset," she whispered.
I shook my head, feeling completely overwhelmed with the nauseating feelings resurfacing, "Look so upset?" I bit out, pulling away from Chicago completely as I stood from her lap, "You're..." I trailed off, feeling my throat close up completely.
I felt my breathing grow rapid as I held my chest slightly, easily causing Chicago to stand from the bench, wrapping her warm arms back around me.
She held me close to her as hot tears pricked the corners of my eyes, "Sloan, I'm not leaving you," Chicago said, easily making me shake my head.
I breathed out a few rapid pants as I looked up at her, "But-but you're going to Paris... we can't do long dis—"
"Hey-hey, just breathe," Chicago cut me short, trying to calm me down as she rocked us back and forth before she suddenly said, "I'm not going without you."
I felt time practically freeze as I met her dark eyes, furrowing my brows as I processed what she had just said. "Wait... what?" I breathed out, clearly confused by what she meant.
