His Identity

26

|Nick's POV|

I lied when I said she looks great because she doesn't.

She looks fuckin' perfect.

This girl is going to kill me and she doesn't even know. She doesn't have the slightest idea of what she does to me— what she has been doing to me in the past two years.

I'm starting to regret not coming to this stupid anniversary party in the past years because god damn. Did she look like that everytime?

I can hardly take my eyes off Aveline. No, fuck that. I can't, for the love of fuck, stop looking at her. And I'm standing right in front of her with barely any distance between us because I can't find bring myself to step back so that says a lot.

She looks absolutely stunning in her rose gold dress. Needless to say, I'm completely captured by her appearance, from the way that stupid dress which should be illegal, hugged her curves to the sparkle in her eyes. She looks gorgeous— more than usual, that is— and she knows it.

While she looks amazing and all, for some reason, it's her lips that really catches my attention. They are so full and soft, the perfect shade of pink which brings all sorts of fucked up thoughts in my mind. I can't stop myself. I can't help but imagine what it would be like to feel her lips on mine. Fucking hell, I need to stop.

Ever since I've gotten back from Italy, I've been feeling like a weight has been pulled off my shoulders. Like I'm free. Like I can do whatever the fuck I want without anything holding me back.

And as it happens, the only thing I find myself wanting is her.

"You did what?" her voice snaps me back from my thoughts. I bite my tongue when she blinks, staring at me as if I've grown three heads.

"Do I really have to repeat myself?"

"Not really," she mutters, shaking her head, "you went away for what, two days, just to beat someone up? Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"That person deserved it."

"I can tell." She looks nervous as she takes her lower lip in between her teeth, unsure of what to say. I internally groan. Fucking hell. She really should stop doing that. "Where's Ryver?"

I refrain myself from clenching my jaw. I don't know why but her asking about Ryver makes me mad. Why does she wanna know?

"He's not coming." I had received a text from him earlier, informing me about his absence. He said he had 'something to take care of' and I didn't pry.

"Oh, okay," she doesn't look disappointed so that's a good sign, right? It better be.

I'm sure she's wondering why I walked straight to her the moment I got here. Thing is, I don't know. But I know for a fact that she's the only reason I'm here tonight. I wanted to see her and be close to her which is fucking scary because I only felt that way towards someone once and it didn't end well.

In three days, it's going to be three years since Eli's death and in exactly one week, it's gonna mark three years since I've moved to Chicago.