Behind the Big Screen [S.S]

Apology

Daniella placed her phone down on the coffee table, sitting back on the couch and pulling her legs to her chest. She rested her chin on her knees, staring out the window, watching the sun slowly set.
After four months of filming, she was quite exhausted. She loved her job, it kept her sane, but it took a toll on her, having to act with Sebastian. He could barely look at her unless cameras were rolling. She was convinced the Margarita was lying, that he no longer loved her.
He hasn't tried talking to her since that day two weeks ago. She had no idea how Margarita got her number, or what could possess her to text Daniella, but it happened. She had a hard time believing Margarita was truly sorry, but she tried to, for the sake of finding peace.

Everyone else had to film today, so she had no one to talk to. Her initial instinct was to text Sebastian, but she couldn't do that, so she sat alone. Her heart was slow at healing, so much so that she often found herself numb. She'd prefer to be hurting, to be crying, than to be numb. It was as if someone took her heart and soul, locked them into a safe, then threw the safe into a black hole.

She started to drift off to sleep when a loud knocking came from the front door. She nearly fell off the couch when she jumped up, rushing over to the door. She wasn't sure who could be coming over, but she felt a pit in her stomach when she got to the door. She knew who it was, but she didn't want to believe it. She was slow to open the door, the pit growing when she saw him.

She knew he had been growing his beard; it was evident on set, but what wasn't, was the bags under his eyes. His hair was a mess, his clothes wrinkled, he looked as if he hadn't slept very well, because he hadn't.

He spent late nights lying awake in bed, thinking of a way to get his girl back. He knew he fucked up, and he knew he hurt her, deeply. He planned out dozens of things he could do, but each was worse than the last. Finally, he gave up, he couldn't do it anymore. He decided he'd just go to her place and try to reason with her.

"Sebastian... what are you doing here?" Daniella leaned against the door, holding it tightly so it wouldn't move.

"You know why i'm here, I came to apologize." He scratched at the back of his neck, his confidence that this would work wavering.

"You should go. I don't want to hear it." She looked anywhere except him, for the risk that she'd forgive him instantly.

"No, i'm not going anywhere. I don't care what it takes, I need you back. I fucked up, I know that. I'll do anything to earn your trust again, i'll do anything to show you just how much I love you. You're the only one I want, okay? I see my self marrying you, I see myself having kids with you, a house in a suburb, white picket fence and all. I see my life with you, and only you."

At some point he had moved so his hands were cupping her face, forcing her to look at him. She was crying, no matter how hard she tried not to, she could never mask her emotions around him. She always believed it was some silly cliché to see someone's emotions in their eyes, but right then, in that moment, she believed it. She believed him. The pain, the fear, the regret, it was all in his eyes, his features.

"You do not have my full trust back, you do not have my full forgiveness, but... I need you back, I need my best friend back." Her arms slid around his neck, pulling him into a hug. They stood there for a while, just holding each other.

"I love you so much, baby. I'm so sorry."

"I know, you loser. Now come inside, standing in the doorway is weird."