Ghost Of You (A Novella)

Chapter Twenty-Four (REWRITTEN)

Avery released herself from Sebastian's grasp, "I should go."

While she would be the first to admit she had baggage as well and should not be so hypocritical, his was a bit different. She had grown up in a small town and understood how rumors snowballed and drama ensued. Not a fan. Sebastian had things to work out and she didn't want to get in the way.

"Please don't," he reached for her, but that only caused her to distance herself more. Instead, he dropped his arms to his sides and looked at her, helpless. His worst fear was coming true and if he didn't rectify the situation fast, he would lose her.

"I think... I think you need to handle some stuff first."

"Fine." He agreed. "I'll get a restraining order." He probably should have done that in the first place but he put it off originally, assuming Gina would just go away and when she didn't, there wasn't much he could do being unconscious and all, so there had really been time since, but if Avery insisted, he would do it. Whatever she wanted. "Whatever you want."

"That's not what I mean," she frowned, knowing she wasn't being clear but not sure how else to explain her thought process. "This is just a bad idea right now. Maybe in the future we could try again but... I don't think the timing is right."

"When is the timing of anything ever right?" A rush of adrenaline surged through him, forcing his heart into his stomach and causing a pounding headache in his temples. Was she really calling things off before they had even begun?

"We can be friends, but—"

Did she just friendzone him? Oh, hell nah. "I can't just be your friend anymore, Avery! I can't walk around like everything between us is purely platonic, like I don't want to touch you..." He shoved his hands in his pockets just as a preventative—that was probably a perfect example of one of those bad timing things she was referring to. Unfortunately, he couldn't shove his hands in his mouth as well, "Kiss you even. It's unfair that you would even suggest it." What was he supposed to do with a friendship with Avery? Watch her date other guys that had their "stuff handled?" Be a shoulder for her to cry on when they broke her heart? He wasn't a masochist.

"Sebastian, I—"

For once, he didn't want her to talk, he had things to say and she was going to listen, "I need you. I need you because..." He panicked, losing everything that was on his mind. Sure, he could put it more eloquently if he had thought it through long before now and maybe in the near future he would wish he had, but what seemed the most dire in that moment was to just get it out, "Because, you are the air that fills my lungs. Every time you go, every second you're not around, it's like I can't breathe. And I... I don't know how to survive without air, Avery."

The desperation on his face made him appear quite a bit younger than he really was. With his red-rimmed eyes and trembling voice, Avery very much wanted to take back what she said. It made sense, logically, to want to have your life together before jumping into a potentially serious relationship, but was it fair she demanded of him what she, herself, had yet to achieve?

Sebastian was tired of watching her debate her inner dialogue, no longer able to stand the anticipation of what she may say. He had one hand left to play and after that, well... screw it.

He stomped up to her, catching her off guard and definitely not giving her a chance to speak. Sebastian dubbed her face and crashed his lips into her's, feverishly and without remorse. It was needy. It was hungry. It definitely was not his best first kiss, but if it caused her to change her mind, he would gladly spend the rest of his life making it up to her,

When she did finally respond back, gripping tightly to his shirt and pulling him closer, his world suddenly came to a screeching halt.

Like a movie montage, flashing through his mind, everything came back to him at once. Every scene with every smile and every laugh and every stupid, silly, ridiculous, heartfelt conversation—he remembered it all. From start to finish, he was but a witness now to how they got from there to here. They weren't dreams at all.

He also immediately understood the reasoning behind his Travels, the answer to 'why her' and 'why now.'

Yanking himself away from her, Sebastian stumbled backwards, his legs instantly feeling just as weak as when he first woke up. "You," he accused with wild eyes. "The subway in New York."

In awe, she covered her mouth with a single hand and nodded her head. She knew what he was implying; what he was remembering.

"I was searching for you, Avery. It was always only you," he whispered, barely audible over her fluttering heart. "I knew you would wake me up." He didn't understand how he knew that, he just did and he didn't question it. And by the eager agreement of her shaking head, he realized she had known this whole time. Maybe not why he had latched on to her, but she recalled their time together because it happened to her in real time. She never had snippets to sort through like he did. "You knew and you didn't tell me."

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to freak you out," she sobbed, finally relieved to be free from such a hefty weight on her shoulders.

"No," His fingers combed through her hair as he leaned his forehead against hers, "I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm the one who forgot that I loved you." This kiss was tender. Savory and satiating in the softest of ways.

Definitely the best second-chance first kiss of his life.

But then a memory re emerged that transformed his features into horrified consternation, "Oh, my god! I smashed Mark's stupid face into a table!"

Avery hummed softly, a sparkle in her eyes. She had suspected he did. At Least now, there was an admission of guilt to confirm what she already knew.

"What kind of douchie name is Mark, anyway?"

The way his mouth twisted in disgusted emphasis for that name had her smothering a chuckle. "It is bad, isn't it?"

"It's like his mom knew exactly what sexual position would produce the ugliest children and named him rightly so.."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"It's like his face caught on fire and someone tried to put it out with a hammer but they couldn't so they named him Mark instead."

"Um..."

"It's like his face makes onions cry but then he tells them his name and they sob instead."

In an attempt to pacify him, she patted his arm, "Ok, tiger."

"The last time I saw something like that, I flushed it. But his name was Mark and he clogged my pipes."

"Jesus, Sebastian."

"I don't think Jesus liked the name Mark either."

Avery allowed him to carry on until she felt he had released all his pent up aggravation. It took a while, but when he was finally done and gave her a guilt-ridden lip-sided grin, she knew, then and there, that she loved him too.

And she always had.