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“I shouldn’t have run out like that. It was stupid.”
“Yeah,” I couldn’t help saying. “It was.”
I felt Pierre smile, and a moment later, he planted a soft kiss on my forehead. Then, his lips fluttered down the bridge of my nose until they landed on my own lips. I tilted my head, giving him all my breath in that one, slow kiss, before he pulled away—well, not really pulled away. His lips still lingered on mine, just barely, just enough.
“Are you doing okay?” I asked, thinking back to what he had told me about Luna. “I mean, from what I know, that chick you’re dating is still in the US.”
He snorted. “Yeah. About that …” He sucked in a deep breath. “I feel so stupid.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, guiding him back across the grass. His arm looped around my waist as we walked. “You got catfished. So, what—how were you supposed to know who she really was?”
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “But I feel like I should’ve.”
We came to the edge of the sidewalk where the shuttle stop was. I looked up at him.
“How come?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Did she tell you something?”
Pierre shook his head. I wanted to believe that he was telling the truth for once—but he said nothing.
I’d let it slide. Just one more time.
The shuttle came rumbling a few yards past where we stood, and the small group of students that had formed around us started walking toward it. We followed, hanging a bit behind the rest of the group, watching as a few students filed out the bus one by one. I wondered what their stories were, why they were out just as late as we were, whether they had been abandoned at a party by their friends, or were coming back from a late shift. Maybe, like me, they were from other schools, here to meet up with significant others that didn’t exist, friends that were about to break their hearts.
Or maybe they were just normal. And I was unlucky.
“Kat?” Pierre said. The line had disappeared into the shuttle, and I was standing alone, my mind in another world. “You coming?”
“Yeah,” I said, shaking away the thoughts. I was tired. Just fucking exhausted—couldn’t wait to get back home.
Back to my real home.
We rode back to his apartment complex in a dreamy silence. My head found its way onto his shoulder after we finished bumping along some old cobblestone street, and I had almost gone to sleep by the time we arrived. I almost wanted to ask Pierre to carry me inside, but I regained some sanity by the time it came to actually leaving the bus.
“You’re so cute when you’re sleeping,” Pierre whispered into my ear as we entered the building. I almost elbowed him in the gut for that.
“Don’t say that shit,” I yawned, pressing the elevator button. “So, what are we doing tomorrow?”
“Anything you want,” Pierre replied, allowing me to enter the elevator before him. Once the doors had closed behind us, he leaned in toward me, and his lips started toying with my earlobe.
“Fish n chips?” I giggled, playfully pushing his face away.
“I said anything.”
“We should start thinking about how you’re getting back to the US with me,” I replied.
The doors opened up to reveal Pierre’s hallway. We stepped out, and once we reached his door, Pierre responded, “Yeah, about that …”
He waved the key over the door handle, and the door clicked open for us.
“What?” I asked. “You don’t wanna come anymore?”
We entered the apartment, and I immediately headed for the bed. I’d save brushing my teeth for the morning. I was beat.
“No, I do,” he said, peeling off his jacket. “I’m just worried about—”
“Don’t worry,” I said, taking off my own coat and throwing it to the floor. Once my shoes were kicked off, I settled under the covers. “Don’t worry about anything anymore. Let me do all the worrying.”
I could hear him laughing softly as he the lights turned out. A moment later, he jumped onto the bed beside me, and wrapped his arm over my body, snuggling in close.
