fallin' all in you | c.l

Twenty-Two.

Mila decided that she was done running.

She could only go so far before her legs gave out, and it wasn't like she could outrun her fears forever. Facing them—standing her ground and hoping to come out victorious—seemed like an easier feat than living in a constant state of avoidance for god knows how long.

Perhaps it was easier for her to realize that now that she knew there was someone in her life willing to, quite literally, fight her demons. That person who just so happened to be sleeping next to her.

Early morning light streamed in through the bedroom window, casting soft shadows across Charles' face. The bruising on his cheek had darkened overnight, the edges turning a deep blue with hints of violet, a stark contrast against his otherwise smooth, sun-kissed skin. She traced her thumb along his jaw, her touch featherlight, brushing over the rough stubble starting to grow. Sure, it wasn't the clean-cut look of him that she was accustomed to, but somehow, she liked it. Perhaps Mila was even beginning to like this version of him better. It made him look less like the polished public figure and more like the man who had fallen asleep next to her, safe in the knowledge that she would be there in the morning.

The arm draped loosely around her waist tightened, and her heart jumped as Charles pulled her closer, right into his warmth. His eyes remained closed, but his lips curled into a lazy grin. "Good morning to you, too."

Mila huffed a small laugh, her words muffled against the crook of his neck. "You're awake?"

His hand smoothed over her hair, his touch gentle. "I was waiting to see if you were still mad at me."

She pulled back, her eyes meeting his, searching. He was teasing, but even beneath the humor, she saw it—the slightest hesitation, the silent question. He had really taken her comment to heart last night.

"No," she answered, offering him a small smile. "But I would appreciate it if you didn't show up at my door bruised and battered anymore."

"Deal," Charles nodded, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead. His voice softened. "Sorry for coming over like this. I know you asked for space."

Mila shook her head with a smile, her palm cupping his uninjured cheek. "I'm glad you did." A pause, her thumb brushing against his skin. "Even if it was incredibly stupid of you."

He chuckled under his breath, eyes fluttering closed as he leaned into her touch, reveling in her touch. It was a rare thing to see him let his guard down like this. Charles had always been composed, the picture of confidence. Right now though, he was just a man seeking comfort in the woman he wanted. And she was the one offering it willingly.

"Do you feel better now?" He asked, stretching as he sat up.

That was the question, wasn't it? Mila didn't know how she wanted to tackle the question. If she decided to dump her thoughts on him now, that would mean starting the day with such a heavy conversation. Yet, she wasn't exactly sure how long she could keep it bottled up if she decided to deflect.

Mila exhaled slowly, shifting so she could lean against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there for her.

"Yes, in some ways. No in others." The words were soft, nearly reluctant.

Charles turned toward her, watching, waiting. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She hesitated. It was her last opportunity to pull out. No, she didn't necessarily want to talk about it, but doing so would certainly make whatever came next for them a hell of a lot easier.

She wasn't even sure how to talk about it. The thoughts in her head were messy, tangled, and exposing them meant giving up the last of her defenses. But Charles was patient, steady in a way that made her feel like, just maybe, she could let some of that weight slip from her shoulders.