Calista
"Cedric…"
He looked down, and I could see the turmoil in his eyes, thoughts messing around like a storm I couldn't calm. That kiss had changed everything. It was my fault, really. I hadn't stopped him; I'd let him kiss me, giving him false hope.
"Look-"
"I don't care, Calista," he cut me off, his voice soft but firm. "It doesn't matter if you're not ready for me right now. I told you that," he added, gently cupping my cheeks.
"I just need to feel you again," he whispered, his gaze lingering on my lips, filled with a yearning I could almost taste.
I wanted to tell him that I wasn't indifferent to love, that it was just complicated for me. But his persistence, his unwavering desire, made it hard to find the right words.
"Cedric, I-"
"Shh," he placed a finger on my lips. "Just let me take you home. Please. Let me be there for you, even if you can't give me your heart yet."