I leaned against the banister, staring up the stairwell.I didn’t need to know every detail of his past or what he was running from.Trust wasn’t built on grand revelations but small moments, shared gestures.That kiss had been a start.
He had to feel something; otherwise, why initiate it?He didn’t have to lay his soul bare for me, but I wanted him to know I was here for him.No judgment, just understanding.And if he told me no, fine.I'd drop it and respect his boundaries.But running away wasn’t my style anymore.
I climbed the stairs two at a time, determination fueling each step.Reaching his door, I hesitated only a moment before knocking.Three firm raps.
Nothing.
“Christian, we need to talk.”My words were steady despite my racing heart.
After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open a fraction.His face appeared in the sliver of light, eyes guarded but curious.
“What is it?”His voice was gruff, walls firmly back in place.
"You can't do that," I said, the frustration evident in my voice."You can't just kiss me like that and run away."
"Run away?"Christian's eyebrows shot up, and I could hear the offense in his tone.
Good.
"I didn't take you for a coward," I continued, feeling a surge of defiance.
"Coward?"he repeated, the word dripping with disbelief.
I pushed past him into the room, and he closed the door behind us.The small space felt charged with tension.I started pacing, my thoughts tumbling out faster than I could catch them.
"I get that you can't say everything," I said, gesturing wildly."And I get that you maybe don't want to.You don't know me very well.I get that.But you kissed me?—"
"You don't realize what I have to deal with," he interrupted, his voice strained."The last thing I want is to drag you into my shit."
His words hit me like a bucket of cold water.He stood there, a mix of anger and something else—something deeper, more painful—in his eyes.
"Christian," I said softly, trying to reach him."You don't have to handle everything on your own.You don't have to keep pushing people away."
"It's not that simple," he snapped, running a hand through his hair."You think I'm just being difficult?You have no idea what kind of mess I'm in."
"Then tell me," I urged, taking a step closer."Let me in."
He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips."It's not your problem to fix."
"I'm not saying it is," I insisted."And I'm not trying to downplay what you went through and what you still might be going through.But I know… I know you're interested in me.At least, I hope you are?You don't seem like the type of person to kiss and just want… you know… but if you are, that's fine, there's no judgment there.It's just, that's not me, so…"
I sucked in a breath and finally looked up at him.
Christian looked at me for a long moment, the walls he'd built around himself wavering slightly.He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to struggle with the words.
"I'm not asking for your life story," I said gently."And I'm not… I'm not here asking you to let me help you… if I even could.I just…"
His shoulders slumped slightly, the fight draining out of him.The silence stretched between us as we stood there, both caught in a moment that felt like it could change everything.
Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper."What do you want from me?"
I opened my mouth, then shut it.
What did I want?
A relationship?
Was that even fair to ask of him?
