“I cannot believe you,” she rasped.
Bastien halted on the landing, turning and blinking up at her. A shaft of moonlight fell across his eyes, grey and glistening with tears, and livid with desperation. It twisted something in her.
“You came here,” Celine breathed, “gave me all that spiel and a set of keys, and now you’re walking away? Again—for the third time?”
Stark confusion flashed across his face. “I—I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want the studio.”
“But—”
“I don’t want the studio,” she repeated fiercely. “Not without you in it.” Descending the last set of steps, Celine grabbed him by his shirt and slanted her mouth over his.
Bastien had to brace himself against the railing as to not tumble down the stairs along with her. Celine wouldn’t have minded that. She wouldn’t have minded anything at that very instance. His lips were like a balm to the ache in her heart.
There was a momentary lag in his system, before his senses jolted awake and he quickly brought his hands up to cup her face, kissing her back.
Nothing, Celine thought,has ever felt more right than this.
Tears were gleaming in the corners of her eyes when she pulled back. “I don’t want you to be anywhere but by my side, Bastien Ménard.”
Bastien seemed to be quarrelling with himself for a few seconds. Once his desire-addled mind cleared up, he stammered, “Y-you don’t hate me?”
“Oh, I hate you,” Celine stated. “And you will make up for all of it in time. But my dream had you in it too, Bastien. Maybe not at first, but you became an inextricable part of it later. You are half the reason why I even made it this far in the competition. You weren’t obliged to help me during the challenges, but youstill did. Including all those trips you made back and forth, bringing my dresses and the fabrics.”
“Those were nothing, Celine.”
“They wereeverythingto me.” The hot prickle of tears rose to her eyes again. “No one has cared about me being a designer the way you did. You never called it a silly dream, not even when we struck the deal.” When the competition hadn’t meant much to him, save for it being a means of getting the money he owed. “I will never forget all of those things, Bas, whether we win or not. But I cannot open the studio without you. I don’t want to.”
Hope and relief broke across his face. “Can you forgive me? I know I do not deserve it but—”
Lifting herself up, Celine cut him off with a kiss. “I forgive you, Bastien,” she whispered against his lips. “As long as you promise to be by my side at the final round tomorrow.”
He stared at her. “But Jacques—Anaïs said the proposal was tomorrow.”
Celine shook her head. “I’m telling him no. I love you, Bastien,” she said, realising with a start that she hadn’t said the words before, either. “I’ve missed you so much these past six days, to the point where I felt like I was missing half of myself. I want you to be my friend again.” Gently, she nudged his nose with hers. “I want you to be more than that.”
Bastien stared at her for the briefest of seconds, before sweeping her up in his arms and ascending the stairs back into the attic, whispering with every step how sorry he was, that he had never meant to hurt her in the first place.
When he closed the door behind them, the draft caused the candles to flicker out. The room was plunged into darkness, but Celine did not mind. She grabbed him by his shirt, tugging him towards the old divan. Jacques and the proposal, even the competition—everything was forgotten. For once, Celine wantedto do something just for herself, and if there was one decision that she wouldn’t let anyone else have a say in, it would be this.
The back of her knees hit the cushions and Celine plopped down, Bastien following fast, catching her little yelp with his lips.
“My Celine,” he whispered against the hollow of her throat.
Her hand slid from the back of his neck to trail down his chest where she undid a few buttons on his shirt. Bastien shuddered.
“I thought you would have gotten used to me touching you,” she chuckled.
“Oh, you were always too professional to touch me like this,” he teased, voice barely higher than a rasp. “Except for in my dreams.”
“You’ve dreamt of this?”
“Every night since that second kiss. I’ve dreamt of lying like this with you and kissing you over and over and over again. And I’ve dreamt of loving you, hopelessly and unapologetically.”
Celine’s heart swelled at the words. In that moment, she thought he was the loveliest person in the world. She traced the tip of her finger down his jaw, unsure if Bastien would even feel it until he leaned into her touch. There was a question poised on his tongue, and Celine had to silently prompt him to ask, “Did you and Jacques ever…”
“No,” she admitted softly, truthfully. “I didn’t love him.”
