The Pursuit of Felicity

{ Chapter 14 }

"Don't call me crying after-," she starts but I hang up, pocket my phone, and grab my purse, even though I know I won't be staying long. I try to calm myself down on the walk to his apartment, reminding myself that this is Cam and that he's understanding and he won't hate me, at least not too much. I reach the familiar yellow house and find him standing outside, perched against the railing of the porch.

"Hello," he greets me with his familiar, bright smile. I attempt to give him a matching one in return but the only thing I can force is a half grin.

"Hey," I breathe as I join him at the top of the steps. He leads the way into his apartment and I follow curiously. When making the plans, I really should've suggested that we grab coffee at Cuppa or somewhere more public. My thinking at the time was that he'd be in his own home and I could leave and not have to deal with the awkwardness that would ensue after my request for space. Now, I'm here being let into his apartment for the first time and I'm going to ruin the memory by asking him to stop talking to me.

"I'm not sure what'd you prefer: my friends being here or them not being here," Cam announces as he leads the way up the steps. I follow suit nervously, wondering which one would be better. It'd be awkward having to pass the guys after just 'breaking up' with Cam. But I don't really want to leave him here to be sad alone.

"Well, are they here?" I decide to question with a raised brow.

He hastily unlocks the apartment door, grips the knob, and turns to me with a teasing glare. His eyes search mine for a second and I can tell he's anticipating my reaction. I rock back and forth awkwardly on my feet, feeling the softness of my sweatpants rub against my legs. I press my hands against the inside of my pockets to rid them of the sweat.

"Nope, but that doesn't mean I'm going to have sex with you," he concludes with a tone of finality. I gape at him as he pushes open the apartment door and leads the way into his abode. I find that we're standing in the living room, which is surprisingly clean for an apartment that's always infiltrated by the male species. Aside from a few pieces of mail scattered on the table and a couple pairs of shoes by the door, it's fairly neat. My eyes take in the rest of the apartment as he leads the way down a hall, where I'm assuming his room is. Even better; I get to break his heart in his own personal space.

I get caught up looking at a painting on the wall, which was definitely put up by one of their mothers, and have to jog over to the opened door at the end of the hall. "You can connect to my speaker," he says from the depths of his room as I slow to a stop at the door. I vaguely recognize certain pieces of furniture from pictures he'd send me where it was merely a background image. Now here I am, in the place he sleeps and studies and does...other things.

"You can sit down, you know," he retorts as he stretches out across his bed. I venture deeper into the room and pull myself onto the edge of his red comforter.

I want to avoid staying for long so I don't bother playing music and instead, wave my phone around dismissively. "My phone's dying," I lie and he points to a charger near his bedside table. I could crawl up the bed beside him and plug it in but I opt for the other choice; I pull myself off the bed and plug it in, putting it face down so he doesn't see that it's already near full charge.

"Where's the music?" he asks before I can even sit down. "You can charge it and play music at the same time, Fliz."

I repress as sigh as I connect to his speaker and play the first playlist to pop up. It's a little louder than I'd like so I turn it down just enough so that we can talk over it. His eyes burns through me as I return to the edge of the bed and I have no choice but to meet his gaze, seeing as my phone is a few feet away, resting on his table. I return my attention to him and, for a second I admire his features. From his relaxed position propped against the wall, I can see his full figure without blatantly checking him out. He's still in his day clothes, which consist of a pair of joggers and a black sweater, which he's tugging the strings of. He's slightly overdue for a haircut and his curls are getting a little wild but I don't mind one bit. My mind drifts as I stare at him from my spot three feet away.