fallin' all in you | c.l

Twenty-Two.

"Everything with Peter. I'm done with it," Mila started, her voice firmer this time. "I refuse to spend any more energy agonizing over that relationship and the aftermath. That door is closed." That much was very clear to her.

Charles nodded thoughtfully, his gaze unwavering. "Good. So what are your concerns?"

She swallowed hard, the vulnerability settling uncomfortably in her chest. How could she casually bring up the worries and insecurities crowding her headspace without sounding crazy?

"I'm afraid. Of this. Of you. Of how easy it feels right now, because I know things that feel easy don't always last." Her hands clenched into fists in her lap, her nails biting into her skin. Then, the questions were tumbling out of her before she could catch them. "How can you be so sure that you like me? How can you even like me when I don't reciprocate the affection you give me? What if you wake up one day and realize I'm not enough? What if—"

Charles cut her off with a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Slow down," he murmured, his fingers finding hers, gently prying them open so he could lace their hands together. "One at a time."

Mila sucked in a breath, nodding. He was right; the word vomit was too much to process all at once. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"First of all," he began, squeezing her hand. "I don't ever want you to feel pressured to match my feelings. Like I said on our first date, I'll wait until you are ready, as long as you need. You don't owe me anything."

"But that's not fair to you," she whispered, her lips pressing together in frustration.

"Says who?"

"Me."

"Well, I disagree." He stood his ground, his tone unwavering. It was as if he was daring her to counter his opinion. "And, based on how you reacted last night, I'd say you're doing a pretty good job showing how you feel."

Mila opened her mouth to argue, but the words didn't come. There was no room left for her to argue because he had a point. She had kissed him first. She had let him hold her. She had let him in, unknowingly turning a blind eye as he slipped past her walls. As terrifying as that realization was, it was also... liberating.

"I am an adult, Mila," Charles continued when she didn't rebut his statement. "I know what I want, and I don't question my feelings for you. If you need me to prove it, I'll do everything I can to do so. But don't try to push me away because you don't feel you deserve it. That's not your decision to make."

Mila bit the inside of her cheek, sifting through his words in her mind. A lump was forming in her throat, and her gaze dropped to their joined hands. "What if you change your mind and run away once you see the real me?"

Charles exhaled, running a hand through his already messy hair. "I've known you for four years. I've seen you at your best and at your worst. I know you overthink everything, I know you run when things get hard, and I know how much space you need when you feel like you're losing control. And despite all that—" he tilted his head, his lips quirking up into a smile, "I'm still here."

She blew out a breath, closing her eyes and letting her head fall against his shoulder. God, she wanted to believe him. He was so perfect and so good with his words that she wanted to believe she wasn't setting herself up for heartbreak again. At this point, she had spent enough time trying to scare him away that since he did still remain, maybe she was finally willing to try.

Her whole body relaxed into the mattress, though her mind remained a battlefield of overthinking. "Don't you think it's weird, though? Starting as friends and then turning into more?"