One last time.

I'll go in there.

I'll face him and potentially fall apart. Standing in that empty, cold space I once fought my way to get in.

Meanwhile he could merely stare at me and all my bricks would crumble down.

I'm so weak. When it comes to him.

I don't know what to expect on the other side. What he'll say. Whether I'll know if he's being honest.

The feeling of disgust and self-hate that clung on my skin last Friday... after I surrendered like that to him... let him talk to me like that and do those things... and then I find out he was doing it while knowing he's about to be my boss. That's not right. It's just not right.

So it sucks, that I'm doing this to myself right now. And yet I can't stop it. A fool.

I turn around to Gia and Shushan one last time across the street. They're being supportive. Gia is wiggling her tongue between two fingers and Shushan is pretending to slice her neck, mouthing 'don't worry' with a serious face. I snort a little, feel less afraid.

I take a deep breath and look at the door. I tell myself that I can do it.

And I do. I push the handle down and quietly step inside.

Immediately my eyes go up and I lose my breath.

Wisteria vines hang from the ceiling, painting the sky with lavender petals. The night is dark and blue and full of fragrance. There's countless of them. It's an upside down garden.

Pendant lights flicker behind them like stars. Some of them drape low and freckle the space with gold. Candlelights cover the white tablecloths, illuminating them like water lilies.

The timber sides are curved with rose vines... or azaleas... I can't tell... but they wrap the space like an enchanting embrace, making you feel like you're in a fairytale.

It's so cheesy but perfect.

There's even a soft piano playing in the background, making me feel like I should've worn a puffy dress. What if we start singing?

Then I see him.

Working behind the kitchen island in a white button down, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, leaned forward and scrubbing something... something that's already spotless.

His eyebrows are knitted as he grips the cloth, angrily dragging it back and forth like it insulted his family.

There's a golden tray next to him that might as well be for royals — this guy went all out —plates and wine glasses are organized on it.

Probably sensing my presence, he looks up, freezes, then jerks his hand and knocks the tray over.

I jump at the violent destruction of glass and porcelain as they shatter into a million pieces, probably destroying Lucas's soul with it.

He curses under his breath, drops the cloth on the mess and steps over.

I suck in a sharp breath as he walks around the island and runs towards me while drying his hands. My heart nearly falls into a cardiac arrest when he stands tall before me.

"Hi..." He chuckles, tossing the towel on the chair beside him.

He drinks me in from head to toe with warmth and fascination. As if lost in the same trance I was in when I first walked in. Except he's a thousands times happier to see me.

"Hi..." I look away.

"Thank you for coming..." He doesn't break his gaze. "Welcome to Lucas and Danny's."

"New place?" I mask my amusement.

"The grand opening is tonight." He says with a little bow of his head. "You're our first guest."

I play cool and nod my chin, inspecting the place. "It's not bad..."

He stares at me with so much tenderness that I feel bad for my comment.

"I'm kidding. It's beautiful."

"You're beautiful."

I need an inhaler.

Please God, give me strength.

"I know..." I shrug and Lucas softly chuckles. I look back, wondering if he's suffering from a brain injury since I last saw him.

"I didn't call you here to get back with you."

I blink... then laugh. "Okay! Thanks..."

Haha.

God, I knew I was your favorite.

"No. I mean..." Lucas covers his face, running his hand down his chin. He takes a deep breath. "I mean, that's not why I did all this."

"Okay..." I dart my eyes left and right. "Did you bring me here to show off then? Cause it's pretty! Good job! But I got business cards, and they're ten times better."

Lucas presses his lips to not laugh almost as if he knows I'm freaking out.

"I can also go to a store and buy a hundred bouquets of roses and tie a string around them, and hang them upside down in my bathroom. I can paint the walls blue and then stick some cotton balls on them so they look like clouds." I cross my arms, scoffing half-heartedly. "It's not that special."

I'm five. I need to be twenty-five. Twenty-five. Twenty-five. We have a vag—

"I brought you here... " Lucas replies seriously, thank God. "Because I... I need to show you exactly what you mean to me." He hesitates. "I can't have you move on, thinking that you might've meant anything less."

I frown. "You don't have to prove anything to me. If you feel guilty—"

"It's not about guilty." He snaps but slows down at the end, as if realizing it. "It's about not doing you justice." He looks angrily, but it's not directed at me. "I should've never made you doubt yourself."

"Okay..." I shift on one hip. "Then why did you do it?"

"Will you take a seat?" He motions to the table in the center, opening his arm towards it. "I have a lot to say."

"I don't know..." I step back, inching towards the door. I can't lose myself around him.

"Please." He says quietly. "Layla... I won't ask for anything else."

My chest feels heavy to hear him so sad. I want to wrap my arms around him. But I hug myself instead and let him guide me to the table.

He pulls out my chair and I sit down. My breath hitches from him behind me. Not even touching me, but still somehow claiming me and curling me in. I look at him as he goes around to sit across from me.

He lifts his eyes in the middle of scooting his chair in and pauses. Immediately stands up and drags his chair near mine and sits there, bends his forearms on his knees and dips his head below mine, looking up at me.

Holds me with his eyes until I release the breath I didn't know I was keeping.

"I'm sorry." He says. "I'm sorry for letting my own issues make you doubt yourself. I didn't lie to you because you'd sabotage it. I lied because I was a coward."

I can't believe he's saying this to me. He stares at me with a clenched jaw and scoots closer.

"All that time I was judging you for not trusting me, but I was the one not trusting you." He touches his chest. "I was the one that was closed up. I was too scared of letting you in. You were bringing out the parts of me I didn't want to accept anymore."

"What do you mean?" I frown. How he can sound so perfect?

"I used to be happy..." Lucas says, lowering his gaze. "Genuinely happy." When he looks up, his eyes are distant. "Then I was caught off guard. It jerked the rug right under my feet... and I never got up. Didn't want to get back up. Not if it meant I could fall like that again."

I wonder if he used to be as cheerful and free as his dad. I wonder if he was the type of guy to laugh wholeheartedly around his friends and cook burgers for them. I wonder who he was before this loneliness took over him.

"But then you barged your way in." He says. "Like an uninvited guest."

"Like a Jehovah's Witness?" I ask and he deadpans. "You know... did I knock on your door with my resume and go 'do you wish to be with Layla?'"

"Pretty much." He praises nonchalantly. "Yeah... you lured your way in. Flipped the whole place upside down, saying this belongs here and that belongs there." He gives me a serious scowl. "I wasn't kidding when I said you're worse than my Sergeant."

"Is this speech supposed to be romantic?"

"If you'd let me speak..." He warns exasperatedly.

I cross my arms and he drops his face in his hand.

I swing my leg up and down that's over the other, bouncing my heel back and forth.

Lucas lifts his head and looks at my thighs, making me still. I slowly uncross my legs.

"What I'm saying... is that." He says, raising one eyebrow. "For someone who hated being controlled, I was getting addicted to being controlled by you."

Oy. That reached places down low.

I blink at him, trying to be unaffected. When he speaks again, I sigh in relief.

"You ripped open the doors I tried to keep closed." He murmurs, tenderness covering his gaze. "And forced me to look at who I used to be. You brought me back."

I gulp, mumbling. "You brought me back too..."

He places his hands over my knees, making me gasp and my heart flip. Leans closer, so close his breath brushes my lips and all I feel is him.

"I missed you so much." His voice drips with such longing seduction, my eyes nearly close.

I shiver. I don't say anything. I can't.

"I wasn't supposed to do that." He says, studying me.

"No."

He sits back, covering his smile like he just got caught doing something naughty. I hate how attractive he looks, especially with legs spread wide like that. It does things to me.

"I have a surprise for you." He stands up and opens the wine on the table. I try not to notice the way his strong hand gently tilts the stem, pouring with patient attention.

"Did you start waitering since you quit?"

He glares briefly and hands me the drink, voice deep. "Yeah. I also started stripping."

"That I believe."

He snorts, rolling his eyes and goes to the kitchen.

I can't see anything but up from his chest. I hear the oven door open and some glass get placed on the counter. He shoves the broken glass away with his shoe then sets a few other things down, moving his arms around.

"Is it McDonald's?

Ignoring me, he picks up whatever it is and goes around the island.

"It's pasta per la mia anima gemella." He murmurs, placing it down in front of me.

I've never seen a more beautiful dish.

Inside a white bowl that's embossed on the edges with a floral design, lies a delicately folded presentation of pasta, muted rainbow colors freckling its strings.

Specks of herbs and minced cherry tomatoes... diced bell peppers in orange and yellow. It smells spicy yet light... enhancing each other as they collide without losing themselves.

"Is this what I think it is?" I ask and he nods. "But you said you'd never cook again."

He has a small smile on his lips.

"Do you notice anything?" He asks and I look closer.

"Is it a wedding ring?"

I pretend to search for it then peek under my lashes at Lucas who's frozen in panic. He notices my devilish amusement and chokes on his breath, making me laugh.

"You're horrible..."

"Hehe." I look back at the dish. "So, anyway. What is this? Walk me through it."

Why did I just sound like a teacher asking a kid to explain his drawing. I'm so sorry, Lucas.

"Pay attention." Okay.

I don't see anything

I take my fork and lift a string of pasta. "Oh, wait...There are colors inside it." I gasp and he nods. "Where did you get this?"

"I made it." A ghost of a proud smile appears on his lips. "It's pressed with different flowers."

I gape. "Flowers? Are you calling me a cow?"

"What?" He laughs.

"Why would you feed me grass? Flowers are basically grasses with colorful hats."

"I thought you like flowers." He crosses his arms as if to hold himself together.

"That doesn't mean I want to eat them. What, should I eat Federico too?"

"Who's Federico?"

"Our child!"

He runs his hand through his hair, a chastising smirk on his lips as he puts his elbow on the table, leaning closer to me.

I sober up as his scent and warmth envelops me, pulling my body to him like a magnet.

He takes the fork from my hand, fingertips brushing my hand, making it tingle.

"These ones..." He lifts a string that's half the width of a lasagna, showing the purple detail inside. "Are rockets and alliums. One provides spice and the other an onion flavor."

"Is this why you hate normal onions? Cause they're peasants?" I ask and he clicks his tongue.

"Eat it." He brings it to my lips and I scowl at it.

"What if it's poisoned?"

"Then eat faster." He snaps.

I laugh then take the swirled string in my mouth, chewing it slowly. Lucas raises his eyebrows, waiting for a reaction.

"I'm eating flowers."

"What can I say, you're a beautiful cow."

I almost choke on the food and take a couple of gulps of wine. Then make a surprised sound.

"Wow, that's a nice combination!" It's like a flower party inside and out!

A genuine smile breaks on his lips and he scoops some more.

"This blue one is a borage." His lips part as he watches mine and feeds it to me. "This should taste like a cucumber. It brings freshness."

I push away the cucumber joke and nod thoughtfully.

"You like it?" He asks.

"You know me... I like my cucumbers."

He makes that face that makes me giggle again and goes for another string.

"Am I going to be the only one eating?" I ask, getting uncomfortable.

"You're the only cow I see, so yes."

I should spill my wine on him.

He smirks when I glare at him and brings the fork to my lips. He brushes the pasta over my lips when I don't open, smearing the sauce. "Moo..."

I snatch the fork, leaving his hand in the air and snap my teeth at it, making him flinch.

That's right. Fear me.

He snorts and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms as he watches me go for my own bite.

I furrow my brows and look out the window, concentrating on the flavor. It's so unreadable that it's frustrating, yet so highly addicting, which makes it even more frustrating. I gasp.

I am this pasta and this pasta is me. And so is Lucas. Lucas and I are this pasta and this pasta is Lucas and I.

This man is a genius.

"Do you like it?" He asks.

"You know..." I turn to him quickly. "I do... but I hate that I can't figure it out!"

He looks at me confused and I shake my head, going for another determined bite. Then another. And another. When I can't stuff my cheeks anymore, I sip on some wine and look at the ceiling, still chewing.

"Okay chipmunk." He deadpans, looking slightly offended. "Do you really have to think so long to know whether you like it?"

"Hold on." I put up a finger, hunching forward to eat more. I don't even bother lifting my head this time. "I almost got it though, just one more."

"Wow..." Lucas drawls. "I didn't realize I'm feeding Tarzan." He says and I snort all over the food. "Now she spit on it too. You got your boogers in there!" He raises his voice when I fall back, laughing so hard I don't make a sound. He chuckles. "Do you want my boogers too?"

"No..." I wheeze. I try to look at him but my eyes are closing and watering. "That'd just make it taste even worse..."

Lucas chokes. "I swear... a fucking savage."

"Hold on, hold on, hold on..." I take a deep breath, raising my palm. "I'm kidding." I compose myself. "Of course... it's glorious."

He softens a bit and I bite my tongue to not add 'because it was inspired by me.'

"It's stunning, unique, and addicting." I say.

Like me.

"It is."

He says with serious calmness and looks at me, stilling the space between us with tension.

"I want you back, Layla."

~ A/N ~
How's it going so far? <3