She'll say no. She'll say no. This answer is written all over her face that is gazing back at me, that face that I've missed so much, and that face that is so vividly emanating distrust and fear. 

Standing here before her feels surreal. It's like I'm watching a movie and everything is happening before my eyes, but I'm not the one driving the action. 

I'm ruffled with so many mixed feelings I can barely feel the ground beneath my feet. I'm at a loss of words that can describe how happy I am to see her. However, her fearful and reluctant eyes make me wish I've never done this, that I've stayed at home, dwelled in self-loathing and left what happened between Annabelle and me at that. 

I seriously can't believe I'm actually here. When I sat down with Patty and Daniel for lunch after my utter breakdown and thought that I'd like to have all the dynamic I had with Annabelle back, I did not believe I'd end up here, at her apartment. When I lied down to bed last night, sure that maybe I at least need to try, there was a speck of me that was sure I'd change my mind after having slept for a bit. Even when I was on my way to her apartment building, I was not entirely convinced I would go through it, but that I merely came here to stare at her window, maybe catch a glimpse of her, and then drive back home. 

But I'm really here. I'm actually doing this. 

Some part of me is pulsating with the urge to tell her I came here to pay her for babysitting Devon for the last week and just leave. Shutting it down is impossible because it always ends up resurfacing. If it begins with a mere whisper, it returns with a loud scream after being shut down for a mere second. 

I don't want to do that, though. As Patty said, it was up to me to decide for one or the other, and here I am, so... This is what I'm doing. Except that it's abnormally hard. I can't think of a single thing to say. That 'hi' was the only thing I remembered from a sort of speech I've prepared and now I feel stupid as fuck for coming here. 

The only thing we're doing is standing and looking at each other. I understand her silence, it's not up to her to make a move, or fix it, I know damn well it's all up to me. But I also understand my silence, one of the only things I happen to understand right now. If I say one wrong thing, this is all pointless, so... Saying nothing seems safer, but only if it lasted for about ten seconds, not a whole fat minute. 

"Uh... C-can we t-" And when I finally do gather the courage to say a simple sentence that suggests nothing, that can't have a bad connotation to it, I choke on the sounds of it. Just like that, I feel my entire plan, everything that I aspire to achieve today, crumbling to dust. Annabelle just stands there patiently, her expression remaining the same as before, there is not a single tug between her brows or at the corner of her lips that would give me a hint of her annoyance. I don't know if I like it or hate it. "C-can we talk?"

I do my best to hide how breathless and relieved I am from managing to finally get it out. Annabelle does not react immediately but stares back at me as if she's deciding if that'd be a good idea, which I can't argue with. She let me in once and looked at how it all ended... However, she ends up opening the door just for a tad, giving me only the slightest and minimal signals about anything. At this point, I'm grasping for straws, and when she opens the door only for a little bit, I notice it. 

I walk into her apartment realising that my legs are barely keeping me up, but sitting down seems... If I sit down now, I'll only get up a moment later. 

Annabelle, behind me, closes the doo r but stays close to it, maybe getting ready for asking me to leave. Her position there makes me think of what I'm expecting to hear - a no, a straight big fat no. I wait to see if she's going to go stand anywhere else, but she securely stays where she is. In shorts and a pink oversized knit pullover with a wide collar that's exposing one of her shoulders, she is hugging herself, only every now and then glancing at me, otherwise always looking down diagonally. 

The thing is that I know what I want to say, I simply don't know how. I don't want it to sound shallow, but goddammit, I'm not a poet that can compose sonnets on the go. 

I don't know if she can hear my breathing becoming heavier or not, but it's become one of my many concerns that are rushing through my head. 

I know that all I need to say is that I'm sorry and if she could forgive me, but the words won't roll off my tongue for fear that she'll take it the wrong way, or even if she won't, she simply won't forgive me or be willing to hear me out. 

But she let me in, so that must be a good sign. If she didn't want to talk in the first place, she could've just slammed the door in my face. Yet, this is Annabelle.

As I look at her, I see it on her face that she wants to know if I came here just to stand in silence and then leave, but I know that she's not going to say anything. I believe she's said everything she wanted to say to me, and right now, her silence says more than any of the words she could use. 

I need to say something to break the ice. Then, I hope things will flow on its own, I'll get a momentary inspiration and tell her everything. Damn, I never considered myself to be an optimist. 

"Erhm, I got you Faust tickets." 

I'm... a fucking idiot. 

And from the look on her face, she is thinking the same thing. She is visibly confused, maybe even a little bit angry. Jesus Christ, she could think I'm trying to buy her forgiveness. 

"I, ahem, got these before we-" my voice trails off on its own. I don't even know what to call it, to be honest, it felt more like a fight, but it couldn't have been a breakup because we were never actually together. "Yeah, I wanted to ask you if you'd like to go and see Faust, but... You know, what happened." 

Annabelle glares distrustingly at the tickets as if she finds them disgusting. I have no idea if that's how she feels about the tickets, me or if it's even disgust or something else. 

Folding the tickets in my hands, I look back at her, but she won't meet my eyes. Instead, she looks back down at the ground, and I put the pathetic tickets on the kitchen table. It doesn't look like I'll need them anytime soon. 

I shift my weight from one leg to another. I have never felt this desperate and this nervous, even terrified. 

"Look," I clear my throat, and it's evident in my voice that a part of me has given up on this attempt, so I go with the only thing that's left for me to say. It's not like I can stick to my plan, the tickets were the great finish, and I ended up throwing them at her face before I even said anything. "I - uhm, I know I fucked up. And I'm so... so sorry." 

Annabelle then looks up, but I still don't know if I'm on the right way or not. Well, I was doomed the moment that I showed up here, I might as well put on a show. 

"Ev-everything you said to me, you were right. Mason, t-the hickeys, d-desperate for my mum, everything. I d-didn't want to d-disrespect you with an-any of that, it was not my int-t-tention, but I know how it looked." 

Her eyes are investigating my face. For the longest time, they don't move and just stare at me, like protruding into my soul to see if what I'm telling is the truth or not, and when I finish, she averts her gaze to a painting on the wall, looking away from me again. 

I don't know what else to fucking say to her. I can't fall down on my knees and beg her to forgive me, and I can't pull a speech about how she makes my heart beat faster and slower at the same time bullshit out of my ass. I'm barely keeping it together. I know what I said isn't much, and even though I want it to be enough for her, it shouldn't be.

How many ways of telling someone that you're sorry are there? Is there one that says everything that needs to be said? Probably not.

This was a lost battle before I even woke up this morning and decided to go through with the plan.

Maybe what I should do is just leave. I apologised for everything I've done, now I can say that that's all I wanted to say and go on my merry way. She'll get over it, I'll get over it, who knows, maybe I'd be doing her a favour.

When I look at her and see her clutching on her baby pink sweater, her messy hair falling down her shoulders, the refusal to meet my eyes, I know I want to be with her. I could try leaving and then hoping to get over her and maybe it would work, but I know it's something that I don't want. 

"I'm... I've barely been functioning since the argument, to b-b-be honest. And 'c-cause I want you. And not in the way th-that I mentioned then. On your g-grounds, Annabelle." 

There's something about her neck that shifts, it becomes tenser than before, then she presses her lips together and frantically looks around the place. I still have no idea what that means, is this going to be a yes, is this going to be a no, what if it's going to be an I-don't-know? 

She tries to make no movement or sound, but I know she releases a long exhale by the way her shoulders slowly sag down. For the longest time, I think she's not going to say a thing, and there are moments when I want to ask her if she's going to say something or not. I'm willing to beg her for any kind of response. 

When she speaks, her voice sounds confident at first, but then it grows weaker until it turns into a whimper. I know exactly when her throat begins to close up and when her feelings overwhelm her. "Nathan, you hurt me. You really hurt me." 

Oh, shit... 

I nod back, a movement I cannot control and comes out of me on its own. I keep on nodding, and when Annabelle covers her mouth with her hand to stop it all from gushing out, I'm the one to look at the ground. 

The shade of blue in her eyes gets an accusing undertone when I bring myself to look at her again. "What is different, Nathan? That you can't sleep because you feel guilty? Nothing has changed during these past few weeks, except that you're a little bit sad because you don't get to see me and try to seduce me for your own relief. I think I've made it pretty damn clear what I want, and you can't give me that. So, why did you even bother coming here?"

She won't say yes. She has no reason to say yes. I'm not like Mason, how could I ever be the one to make her happy? So far I've only made her miserable, and I know she recognises that. She's not blinded by the blissful moments, she sees through the veil of attraction between us, and that's how she sees she has no reason to give me another chance. 

The hurting part of my heart brings me back to what Patty told me before I left their house: "She doesn't need three bouquets of roses or a parade. What she needs is for you to tell her what you feel. Live up to your reputation and be brutally honest with her, because you love her, maybe even more than you let yourself. Fight for her." 

I swallow down everything that's trying to come out, fear's clutches around my throat, tears, and my pride for what I say next. "You said I'm a sc-scared little boy. And you were absolutely right because the tr-truth is that I'm fucking terrified. I'm terrified of you, everything that's hap-happening to me because of you, and what I feel about you. Because you made me reconsider my entire damn life. Just thinking about a relationship and the p-possibility of being abandoned completely paralyses me, but... I don't know what the hell did you do to me..." 

I feel pathetic. I look pathetic. My hands start to shake heavily, and even as I try to put them in the pockets, I struggle to do so. I just want to plainly die right there, I want it all to be taken away from me, I want this suffering to end. 

Annabelle's eyes are closed, but there are tears escaping from underneath her lashes. She quickly wipes them away, but there are other ones that follow. 

I bite my lip hard as if that will calm down my nerves. What a wishful thinking... 

"I'm not a g-good guy. I'm selfish. I hurt p-people around me. All because I'm so scared of... I don't know, you growing to hate me and of me getting hurt, because I have no fucking clue how to deal with that. But I know that I really c-care about you. I miss you, I care about you, and... I think I've fallen in love with you." 

She runs with one of her hands over the locks of red hair that are framing her face, and it all looks like a distraction from her own fears. This time when she looks at me, there's a whole mix of sadness, anger and pain present. "You humiliated and disrespected me, how are those the deeds of someone who is supposed to love me? I won't apologise for being conflicted about this and you and everything that comes along in the package." 

"Annabelle..." At this point, I don't even know I'm still trying. Obviously she doesn't trust me, so why am I still pursuing this? Whatever I do, she will still doubt every word I'd say. But she's talking to me, and as long as she is replying, giving me her side of the story and not throwing me out, I have enough motivation to keep on pushing. Because let's be frank, that's the only thing left for me to do. I might as well tell her everything fully, even if... Even if she'll go for a no in the end. "I know, I know. And I hate myself for it. Everything I did and said t-to you, it haunts me, b-because I'm done being like that, always running and hiding. I just..." 

I close my eyes for a moment to recollect myself. Everything's been in the ruckuss, but this is the one thing I need to say correctly, so she'll understand. I know she wants me, I know that she does, but going only the half way for her isn't good enough, she needs it all the way. She's holding back all the tears that she possibly can, she's really trying not to cry.

I look at her and with the last thing that I could even say to her to try and win her back, the existing cracks in my heart are swarmed over by new ones made of fear, until everything rips open, and it's all out there for Annabelle to see, to grasp, or to demolish. "I just want to be with you the way you want me to be with you. I... I want t-to take you out on d-dates and be around you, and b-be there for you. I know that-that I haven't always sh-shown it as I should've, but..." I take a step closer to her, even if this is it, I might as well, I don't know, hold her hand for one last time. "I know I can be what you want me to be. And... All I want is to be with you." 

Annabelle's gaze drops as her shoulders shiver and she starts sobbing. She brings her hands up to her face and cries into them. If this is good, I don't know, I don't know what to think about anything anymore. Still, I slowly wrap my arms around her, I just don't want her to cry, at least not anymore. 

The longer she continues to cry with her head leaning on my chest, the clearer, I think, her answer is. It's breaking my heart, but nonetheless, I hug her even tighter; I might as well savour this... I'll be fine eventually. At least I tried... 

She shifts in my arms, and I suspect she's going to move away from me, showing me the way to the door so I can leave and never try to see her again, but instead, I feel her hug me back. For a moment, I think I'm imagining things, that I so desperately want this to happen that I'm so vividly feeling her hands on my back pulling me closer to her. 

Annabelle is still crying, but somewhere in the middle of her sobs, I hear her say: "Just never hurt me again." 

It's like a bomb goes off in me, and an immense sense of relief travels through my veins and every single one of my cells. I bury my face in her hair, not knowing do I want to cry, do I want to smile. I just know that I'm being given another chance, and frankly... That's the only thing I have to know. 

"Never," I whisper to her with a smile on my face. 

It's then when Annabelle moves away from the embrace, and kisses me softly, carefully, and ever so delicately, with tears still running down her face. 

***

Out of all scenarios I've imagined, not in a single one did I imagine myself sitting in Annabelle's kitchen the following morning, yet here I am, drinking coffee, thinking back on everything that's went down, while Annabelle is still asleep in the bedroom. 

I slept for 13 hours straight. No, scratch that. I think I straight up died and simply came back to life hours later. As I'm looking around the kitchen with all the spices and simple recipes scribbled on little sticky notes on the fridge, I have hard time comprehending anything as if I'm still asleep and nothing makes sense. I'm not entirely sure how I made myself this cup of coffee, if I'm completely honest. 

My head is full of incoherent buzzing. Everything is finally catching up on me, but there's one thing that scares me more than I'd like to admit. I hate to say it since I went to such severe lengths to get to where I am now, but every possibility regarding Annabelle that is now open is terrifying me. 

I take nothing back. I'm ridiculously pleased with myself that I finally did something about it, but it's still scary and very weird to think that I'm somebody's boyfriend now. Like... I'm a boyfriend. When was the last time I was a boyfriend? In college, I think, and very briefly. 

I won't lie, it's making me anxious as fuck. And it's so weird talking to Annabelle now. Yesterday, when things have calmed down, I couldn't even look her in the eye without something telling me 'She knows and she gonna use it against you'. 

It takes a fully conscious explanation on my behalf so I can deal with it. It's five in the morning and I'm sitting here all wide-eyed because I can't escape my own problems.

I repeat Patty's words in my mind over and over again - my mother isn't people; people don't just leave and stop trying. For a while it works, but twenty minutes later, these words become just... words, all the meaning behind them gone. They are all just combinations of letters I have memorised and repeated so many times there's nothing to them, like studying for a theoretical exam with too much text.

Every now and then I'd look at the bedroom's door. It doesn't do anything for me, neither am I expecting something to happen. Maybe it's just the knowledge that Annabelle is there.

Once or twice when I glanced, nothing happened. The same thing happened when I'd look at it for the tenth and twelfth time. Well, for the sixteenth time, I see her standing her, her hair messy, but otherwise looking quite fresh.

"Why are you up already?" She asks and by sliding her grey fluffy slippers on the floor gets to the counter and reaches for coffee. 

I stare at my mug, reluctant about telling her the truth. Wasn't the point of my earlier confession to tell her I've changed and that I'm good with it now? "Eh, just thinking about stuff. Couldn't sleep any longer." 

Pouring herself some coffee, she sits behind the table as well and takes a quick slurp, which burns her upper lip, and she twitches as it happens. Adorable. "Thinking about what?" 

I don't want to hide the truth from her, but I know that if I say 'Hey, I'm not sure about all of this', I'll destroy everything. It'll be that night all over again, and I don't want that to happen. At the end of the day, I do want to be with her, otherwise, I wouldn't have gone through this hell to get to where we are now. I guess I just need to word it correctly. "I - uh... Basically that I... Hm... Well, that I need all of this to... happen slowly. I want it to happen, but it has to... develop slowly."

Annabelle cradles the mug between her palms, and I expect her to go on the full defensive mode, but she just nods. "Probably for the best, not just for you, but for me as well. I'm still mad at you for saying and doing all those things. I can't magically forgive you because we decided to put it behind us." 

Well... I feel like a piece of shit now. 

It's a relief, not gonna lie. And it was a huge relief when she gave me another chance, but... It all feels so weird. Even though we have kissed before and slept together, even fought, she seems so strange to me. I feel strange when I thinking about that she is very well aware that she is kinda driving me crazy. I mean, it's a rocky start,  I gotta give it that, but otherwise, shouldn't I feel a sort of love bliss? 

She eyes me from the side as she tries another slurp and is not burnt this time. "What are you thinking about now?"

With my thumb, I absent-mindedly graze the porcelain of my mug's handle. "It's all weird. Like, I'm happy, but it's so weird 'cause even though you know I like you and I know you like me everything is kind of uncertain. More than before."

Annabelle smiles lazily and sighs. "Yeah, love sucks. In the movies, love seems so effortless. Then you get to the real thing and... I don't know, causes you more worries."

Yes, exactly the hope that I needed, thank you. 

Then she continues, smiling widely, her hair still a mess - a lock of her hair peeking out there, the other one ruffled up, and another going in three different directions. "But when you compare this to what you get out of it, you know it's worth it. Cuddling with you, laughing at your jokes, feeling beautiful around you, and more... Worth it if I have any say in it." 

I smile at that. I don't think she's ever so openly said that she likes me, so this right now... I'm kind of giddy. "So, we're back at the beginning, we need this slow?" 

"Yeah, looks like it." She gives me her bubbly smile, the one that immediately caught my attention when I first met her. I get dizzy if I just think about how far we've come; where we started and where we are now. 

I lift my mug up and take a large sip. "It still sucks." 

Annabelle chokes lightly on the coffee as she tries to laugh while drinking some. When she wipes all the coffee that is spluttered around us, she shakes with her head. "Goddamn you, Nathan." 

Then we just sit in silence. At five. Fucking. A. M. And we're just drinking coffee as if we've done this hundred times before. 

"You know what," she goes out of nowhere, "I think I know what will be the most exhausting thing in our relationship." 

Our relationship. Wow, that... Kinda... Took me by surprise, in a very weird, strange, alien, fucking insane way that's causing me to panic. 

"What?"

She slowly turns her head in my direction and gives me a death stare. "Your libido." 

I grin cockily. I'm not ashamed to admit that, in fact, I'm proud of it. Isn't it better to exhaust the ladies, than leaving them to relieve themselves with their own devices? Pardon.. A lady, no longer ladies. 

The horny dumbass that I am, I obviously take that as a hint, that I haven't exhausted her yet. Well, I haven't, 'cause we were both too goddamn tired from feeling fifty fucking things at the same time and from dealing with it for so long, so we kind of just cuddled and fell asleep. I pride myself on my sexual performance, I really do, but man, if I managed to get hard and ready to have sex, I'd deserve to get a dick of the year prize. There has to be a prize like that. 

But I don't get to develop the hinting-at-sex thought. I'm still worried about this slow thing and the whole relationship thing. 'Cause this isn't some together-for-sex relationship; this is the real deal, and I'm afraid that the banalest thing is going to scare me away. 

Annabelle notices something. I think it's because I don't say how my hips don't lie in bed, or something along those lines. "Back to worrying?" 

I huff in response. It's a damn nightmare to be so full of doubt, especially because I know what's at stake here - Annabelle. "Just, uh, how slow exactly? I need it really, really slow." 

Annabelle gets up from her chair and takes out mugs to the sink. "Okay, how about this. We'll see each other a couple of times a week, I'm sure. Every now and then, you take me out, you're all good old charming self, and-" She sits in my lap, putting her hands around my neck and grins playfully, "you tell me on a daily basis that I'm pretty. Think that's slow enough?"

As she's there in my lap, I first admire every line of her face, the angles of her eyes and mouth, the scarce amount of little freckles on her cheeks, and I think it's that, not what she said, that convinces me that I can, indeed, do this. 

"Yeah. I think so." 

She smiles widely, showing all of her healthy teeth, then gives my lips a quick, a too quick of a peck. And that damn smile will always make me weak, won't it? 

Then she jumps off of my lap bouncingly. "Wait, I have to make more coffee. This did nothing for me." 

About that hinting-at-sex thing! 

When she gets to the coffee machine on the counter, I get up and hug her from behind, putting my hands around her hips and on her belly slowly. She leans back to me with her neck and head, but then I whisper to her: "You know how you mentioned the exhausting part of the relationship?"

Annabelle's shoulders stiffen, and magically, she's not worried about making coffee anymore. Those coffee beans are just being held mid-air. 

I kiss her below the earlobe and go down her neck until I say: "I think it's time we make it official." 

Slowly, Annabelle turns around, so we're face to face, then she slowly leans into me. But once we kiss... Everything just takes off and accelerates. The first kiss, yeah, maybe a bit soft and fearful, but the second one that's following only a second later is a whole different type of a kiss. 

And as she's taking off my shirt, and I'm taking off hers, and as she's kissing me, and I'm kissing her back, I know very well that... Yeah, I can do this. 

A/N: The chapter we've all been waiting for! Do you have a favourite part? How relieved are you that he finally did something? Are you hopeful for these two idiots to make it? And on a scale from 1 to 10, how much did you like it? :3

I'm incredibly sorry for being late, my life was so out of control, but I stayed up till 3 AM almost every night for the past few days, so I finished writing this chapter. The book is not entirely finished yet, only one (maybe two) more chapters to go, then it's all... going... to be... over... *sobs*

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~ Blackie