My Favorite Hurricane

by Guardian03Angel

Summary:

Two people, leaving their story in the hands of fate, who turns out to be extremely kind and vicious at the same time.

Notes:

I've hyped up this story so much that now I'm scared you won't find it as powerful as I have. But it doesn't matter. I love what I did here and I hope you will too.
You know me for my quick updates, but this story is going to be a little slower. I want you to pay attention to the details, get lost in the story and really take in the journey of these characters.
I hope you like it!

Chapter 1: The Passengers

Gwen’s POV

 

I hop off the train with a troubled heart, knowing that I might never see him again. While I’m on my way to find my ex lover in Venice, he’s on his way to find himself. I’ve never met a man so sensible and in touch with his feelings. A part of me will always wish he’d made love to me on that train, make me fall in love with him so madly that I would never be able to think about any other man ever again. A part of me wishes I’d have had the courage to stay, to spend a real day with him, not just a train ride that might seem like a work of my imagination.

As the thoughts of the mysterious man float around my mind, I’m struggling to keep myself motivated enough to continue my journey. I’m sure that the man I had the pleasure to meet will have enough time to terrorize my existence for weeks to come, so for now, I concentrate on my mission... 

A year later

-Hi, Carson! So, what’s this about? 

Carson Daily is one of my oldest friends in the industry, he’s a famous movie director. He’s incredibly talented and unbelievably annoying. He scheduled a meeting with me just now, insisting that I’ll think about whatever he has to propose. 

-I want you to be the costume director for my next movie. 

-Costume director?

-Yes. I’m making a movie after a book that one of my friends is writing. It’s an amazing story, Gwen, I’m telling you, you want to be a part of this.

-What is it about? Why do you need a costume director?

-The book is based on the author’s life, but the characters are complex and sophisticated and rich. It’s about fancy people’s lives and the downsides of being born in a millionaire’s house. I’m thinking we could make a modern love story out of this one, I just need you to make it happen. 

-Well… Can I read the book before signing anything?

-The book isn’t released yet, I can’t give you the latest draft either, but… I can give you these… - he says, pulling out three pages of script. 

-You’re kidding. Three pages, Carson? 

-That’s all you need, trust me. Read it now, the others should be here in a few minutes.

We’re meeting with more people today, supposed future collaborators of this movie. I start reading the pages, wanting to finish before being trapped in here with a bunch of strangers. And so, I enter the world of words, a world presented by a male author with a golden pen.

 

***

 

I’ve always loved traveling. It’s something that I’ll always regret not doing earlier in life and more often. However, after everything I’ve been through in the last few years, I think this trip will do me a lot of good. I need to see the world in a different way. I need to rediscover myself. It’s been a while since I last enjoyed my own company, without the need for toxicity to replace the things I’ve lost. 

And so it starts with a long flight to Berlin, Germany. Europeans are curious people; at times, they seem contagiously nice and warm and inviting, but they can also be stone cold as if knowing that you don’t belong. I’ve spent this whole trip so far trying to figure out the interesting people I’ve had the pleasure to see, but I never had the courage to walk up to them, talk to them. It seemed… illegal.  

My thoughts get the best of me and if it weren’t for the lady on the speakers announcing the embarking of my train, I’d still be thinking about everything and nothing , all at once. I grab my luggage and I hop on the fancy train, being shown to my sleep cabin by an employee.

The train I got on is new and very luxurious. It has multiple wagons, each of which is differently arranged. There’s the sleeping wagon, the diner wagon and the living wagon, all of which are included in my ticket. I stay wherever I please and that’s something that I have a lot of gratitude for. And because I don’t really feel like sleeping, I store my luggage carefully so that it won’t bother whoever will be sleeping in the same cabin as me, carrying my valuable belongings with me at all times. I head over to the living wagon, getting comfortably seated near the window. I take out my book and I enter the wonderful world of fiction, beautifully written by one of my favorite authors. 

I don’t know how much time I spend in this world of words, but the beautiful scenery in front of me is stealing my thoughts quickly and recklessly. We’re currently passing over a river and the world has never looked this beautiful. Then, unexpectedly, a tall, skinny, ravishing blonde steals my sight. After an intense eye contact, she decides to sit in front of me, our bodies being separated by the small table in between us. I shut my book, concentrating on the mysterious girl. 

-You didn’t have to do that, I don’t mean to interrupt you. - she says, with an American accent.

Her clothing is stylish and fancy. She’s wearing a beautiful midi dress, extremely classy, but it also looks comfortable. Her hair is loose on her shoulders, a wonderful platinum color, her nails are long and perfectly manicured, her make-up is light and effortless. She is extremely sophisticated and that is fascinating to me. Why would she sit next to me?

-I wasn’t paying attention to the book anyway. The scenery is more captivating. - I reply, never breaking eye contact with her.

-Germany is truly a wonder, isn’t it? - she says, looking out the window briefly, immediately returning her gaze to me.

-What’s your name? - I decide to avoid her rhetorical question with an interrogation of my own.

-Why do you want to know? - she plays along.

-I think names say a lot about people. Your family, your background… If you don’t give me your name, I’ll have no other option than to assume that you’re ashamed of it. - I challenge her.

-I have many feelings regarding my name, but shame isn’t one of them. 

- Hm… - I hum, trying my best not to pull out my journal, writing every thing she’s telling me word by word.

-I’m good at reading people even without knowing their name, I don’t think it’s necessarily a reflection of who they are. For instance, you must be a business man of sorts, but you’re not here on business, otherwise you’d have chosen another way of transport, something faster , more formal. You’ve got a nice designer’s tag on your collar, a clean fresh shave and a new haircut… You take care of yourself, you like looking put together, even while you’re traveling. Your leather cowboy boots and country accent lead me to believe you’re from Southern US, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas… You travel alone, so maybe you’re trying to spend time by yourself, to find yourself, or you’re just a… lone wolf. - she finishes reading me and I grin seducingly.

- Congratulations . - I simply say, piercing the inside of her mind with my gaze. 

-Thank you. It’s your turn now.

-You want me to read you? - I ask, a bit surprised by her request.

-I do. I would love to hear what you have to say.

-I must warn you though, I’m pretty good at reading people, with or without their name.

-Let me be the judge of that. - she answers sassily, catching even more of my attention.

-You’re very sophisticated, but recklessly bold. You’re either a very powerful woman who understands the effect she has on other people, or you’re extremely narcissistic. - she laughs; the most lively sound I’ve ever heard - You love taking care of yourself and you’re aware of the fact you are being watched by people continuously. You’re courageous enough to sit next to a complete stranger on a train to Venice, which tells me that you love the thrill of life, making you get bored of everything very quickly, so I’ll consider myself lucky that I managed to capture your attention for as long as I have.

She smiles, flattered by my reading, biting her lip as I notice her cheeks turning slightly rosier. 

-How did I do? - I ask, regaining her eye contact.

-Very well. I’m impressed. - she patronizes me, but I don’t mind it, I’m intrigued by it.

-If I’ve managed to impress you, it must mean I’m very good at meeting strangers; I never knew that about myself… - I say, winning the upper hand.

-You’re welcome then. - she smiles charmingly, somehow regaining her sass. 

There’s a few seconds of silence, a moment when neither of us dares to take their eyes off of the other.

-Ask me to dinner. - she demands softly and suddenly. 

-I won’t. Someone once told me that women don’t like questions, so I won’t ask you that. - I pause a moment - I’d love it if you joined me for dinner. 

I keep my tone steady, firm, yet inviting and warm. She is surprised again, a bit taken aback by my response but nonetheless, my answer was the right one. She raises her brow curiously as I put my book away in my laptop bag, standing up. I offer her my hand which she accepts immediately. 

The actual physical contact with my stranger feels long overdue, even though we’ve only known each other for a few minutes. It feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life to do this. I let go of her delicate hand, leading her towards the next wagon. She’s fragile and sweet, but she’s got a lot of confidence in herself. I doubt she’s like that on the interior though. I imagine her being a strong, respectable woman, but also soft, kind and vulnerable, at times maybe even a bit goofy .

We sit together at a table, facing each other, as a waitress assists us immediately. There are very few people in the wagon, probably because it’s a little late to have dinner, but yet again, the gorgeous girl read me correctly. I am starving. 

-Enough guessing. You already said you won’t tell me your name, so tell me something else. What brings you to Venice? - I provoke her, as soon as we’ve finished ordering. 

-I’m visiting a friend. I’m a designer and last week was Paris fashion week for me. I decided to stick around a bit.

-A designer… You must have a very difficult professional life, living among artists.

-It’s challenging, but I wouldn’t call it difficult. Perhaps entertaining is a better word for it. I never get bored, that’s for sure. - she smiles, looking down to her lap. - What about you? 

-I’m here to rediscover myself, just as you suspected. I’m just a tourist these next few weeks. I’ve had a difficult time for a while and I needed to clear my head, figure some things out.

-I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been struggling. Traveling is the best way to clear your head. Especially Europe.

-I definitely needed this. - I confess, seeking out the faintest traces of light left outside the window. 

-What do you do for a living? 

-I’m a writer. - my response shocks her.

-I did not expect that! - she says, raising her brows curiously. 

-I’m happy I can still surprise you. - I smirk, playing with my glass of wine in front of me - I took over my family’s business, that’s where my steady income is from, but I don’t like leading with that. I don’t think it defines me.

-Hm. I appreciate a man who knows what he wants. Most people with a steady, wealthy job would have quit on their dreams.

-Not me, I’ve always been interested in this… creative… side of the world. 

-And what do you write?

- Music . I write about whatever goes through my head; portraits, feelings, people, buildings… Usually by the end of the month I have an idea in my mind, I compile everything I wrote  and then I put it into lyrics. It’s a much larger process and it involves multiple people, but that’s how I get it done.

-You’re a song writer?

-Yes, I am. It started out as a joke, but it turns out some people love my writing so much that they refuse to give me a break. I’m trying to change that though, I want to write a book.

- Wow… A cowboy who took over the family business, but is too busy writing songs to follow his dream… I would never have guessed that, stranger.

-When you put it like that , I really do sound like a hell of an interesting person.

-What would you put it like?

-A cowboy who’s trying to fit into this life, but is terribly distracted by all these talents… - I flatter myself sarcastically, making her laugh again, this time, lowering her walls even more. 

-And your book, what have you written about so far?

-Oh, not much. I was hoping this trip would give me a little inspiration, but honestly I’ve been so focused on myself that I don’t know about a book anymore.

-Why not write about yourself? I’m always up for a biography, I think you’d be an interesting person to read about…

-Oh, thank you. Maybe once I get to know myself a bit better, I might actually do that, but for now, I’m still as lost.

-Am I going too far if I ask you about what happened?

-I’ll tell you, but not right now. Tell me more about you. - I demand softly, noticing that she gets a bit uncomfortable speaking about her.

For a confident woman like her, it’s hard to believe she’s finding it difficult to talk about herself. After all, being a confident person means feeling really good in your own skin, loving yourself at some level. She’s mysterious indeed.

Her teeth capture her bottom lip slightly, making me crave that movement more than any other. She’s trying to find the right words, the right subject and finally, when she settles, she doesn’t disappoint.

-This friend I’m visiting is someone I haven’t spoken to for a really long time. He is… my nemesis. He is the only person I never quite understood. I've never able to read him.

-Is he an ex?

-It’s complicated. We were never together officially , but we were involved. It all resumed to a very bad argument which ended in him moving across the globe. I want to make things right.

-I’ll make the bold move to assume that you’re in love with him.

-It’s true. I tried to forget about him, but I wasn’t fair when we parted ways. I was a coward and I was unfair. I don’t want him “back” as much as I want to apologize to him. It’s my biggest regret that I didn’t share my feelings with him.

-Whoever this man is, I hope everything will turn out just the way you would like for it to.

-Thank you. - she smiles softly, offering me her sweetest tone. - Is there a special woman in your life?

-There used to be…

-What happened?

It’s one of those moments I wish for a bubble to be wrapped around me, keeping me safe from all the thoughts and all the darkness that is being shot towards me. I make up my courage and I reply to the stranger in front of me.

-She left me. She ripped my heart out and took it with her somewhere… I just woke up one day with all of her stuff gone, a note on the table. 

-Women don’t just leave like that. - she says, insinuating that something must have happened for her to bail like that.

- This one did. She was… unordinary . She is just as lost as me when it comes to knowing yourself; she had to discover who she was. Maybe it’s better this way, I don’t even know. The only thing I’m certain of is the fact that I loved her so much that I’m still putting back all the pieces of my heart.

-It sounds like one of those love stories that anyone would die for. - she says, pondering her words.

She falls into deep thought, so I refrain from pulling her out of that state of mind. I let her daydream for a minute, staring at her, fascinated . She’s more beautiful than I ever imagined any woman could be. Her body is perfect, her face unbelievably delicate and her voice… angelic . Despite her being a designer, she’s extremely classy. I should know, I work with artists all day long. They’re extravagant and bulky. They’re misunderstood and messy and crazy.

Not her.

She’s probably the most balanced woman I’ll ever have the pleasure to meet. 

-It was one of those love stories that was thought-provoking and deep… Almost like a very bad comedy. - she laughs at the silly comparison, having not expected the sarcastic joke during such a deep conversation. - It was one of those love stories that usually leaves you bawling at the last page.

-I don’t understand how someone could walk away from you with ease. I imagine wherever she is now, she must be hurting just as much as you are.

-I could say the same about you, stranger . - I reciprocate the kind words, making her blush again.

And that’s what happens. We manage to keep our subjects of discussion light and breezy afterwards. We talk about people that we’ve worked with, places we’ve visited and different aspects of the food we’ve tasted without mentioning another word directly about our private personal lives. We talk for hours on end and by our third glass of wine, we realize we should probably go to sleep.

-It’s been a pleasure meeting you, stranger. - she says, threatening to leave.

- Wait . - I say, touching her hand for the second time this evening. - We’ve played this game for hours now. Tell me your name. - it’s a simple request, but she won’t comply.

-I don’t want to. I really like you, stranger, and I had a great time with you tonight. 

-So then why won’t you tell me your name?

-Because I want to let fate decide if there should ever be something more between us. If we’re meant to be more than just strangers on a train, we’ll meet again.

-Alright then. - I agree to the crazy plan - Thank you for keeping me company, stranger. I’ll be writing about you.

-You’re welcome for the inspiration. - she smirks, finally standing up.

-Let me lead you to your cabin and I promise, I’ll be out of your way. - I can’t let her go yet.

She nods, making me follow suit behind her. Her walk is feline worthy, her hips moving with such sensuality that the visual mixed with the three glasses of wine makes for a wild chapter of dirty thoughts to flow into my head. I store the ideas in the little hypothetical cabinet inside my brain, never wanting to forget the effect that a simple action, made by a person, had on me. She is mesmerizing to me.

The cabin she stops at has a number on the door that seems familiar. In somewhat of a panic, I check my train ticket again and she notices my actions. I look at her a bit unsettled, but mostly shocked.

-It seems like fate doesn’t want us to part just yet. - I say, making her understand my reaction.

-It sure seems that way. - she agrees, smiling seducingly as she leads us both into the cabin.

There’s enough space for the both of us to stand in the little room without it being awkward, or inappropriate, but under these circumstances, being with her in any room, no matter how little or how big, could be a sign of great danger. 

She takes me by surprise the minute she turns around, facing me. She’s way too close to not have a wild scenario playing through my mind, so when she gets even closer, my heart starts racing quickly inside my chest.

-I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. - I speak softly, not being afraid to hold her angelic face with one of my hands.

She leans into my cupping hand, closing her eyes for a long second, then meeting my eyes with hers. 

- You and regret won’t ever go in the same sentence, I assure you. I guess I’m happy that this story isn’t over yet, but I’m also sad that I received more time with you. We still have around nine hours together, what if you actually get me to feel even more around you? Now I’ll actually have to watch us go our separate ways.

Both of my hands are now gently cupping her face. She’s so delicate I’m afraid not to break her porcelain skin, so I lower my hands, still not ready to let her go. I lace my arms around her fragile body, keeping them respectfully around her waist.

-Let’s not continue with the end. One chapter at a time. - I say, gaining a shy smile that I’ll cherish forever.

Her hands follow the path of my arms up my chest, resting on the collar of the shirt I have on, underneath the thin blue sweater wrapped around my torso. Her hands make chills run up and down my whole body, our eyes never daring to change courses. 

-Don’t let me fall in love with you. - she says, eventually touching my scruff.

Her words shot through me like thunder, enlightening my whole body with clarity. She’s a stranger. I don’t even know her name . Yet here I am, unable to keep myself from falling in love with her.

-I can’t do that, I’m sorry. I think we went too far. - I say, wanting to loosen up my hold on her waist, but I’m physically incapable of letting go of such beauty. 

-Yes, but I don’t regret it.

-How can you not? You’re about to visit the man that you love. The one who’s been overwhelming your heart for so long…

-Well I think I found the cure. 

-Please don’t do this to me. Don’t make me love you, just so you can leave us in destiny’s hand…

She looks down, understanding that she’s making a mistake.

- I’m sorry. - she apologizes and I hate the sound of it. 

I lift her chin, forcing her to look at me again. Once she complies, I make the statement move of this evening. The most passionate kiss I’ve ever shared, the most perfect moment I’ve ever lived and the most precious woman I’ve ever met, all compiled into a memory that will most probably haunt me for years to come.

The kiss is long overdue, which makes it a bit desperate at first, but at the touch of her lips, my whole body warms up, softening the kiss. I pull back, but her eyes are still closed. I unite our foreheads together, cupping her face with both of my hands. 

-Hold me tonight. We might never see each other again, at least let us have this night completely. 

I nod, knowing that I could never say no to her. We pull back from each other and we lean down to our luggage, feeling the need to change our clothes. I take my stuff, going to the bathroom to change, wanting her to take her time getting ready for bed. I wander around the hallway for a few minutes as well, before slowly opening the door to our cabin. Her beautiful body, wrapped in the most elegant satin pajama, her hair loose on her shoulders and no more make-up on her face. Pure perfection.

I lock the door behind me, sitting down on my side of the room. I put my things in order before laying flat inside the bed cover, getting cozy. She lifts the cover, laying down next to me. I’m spooning her, placing my hand carefully around her waist and her dreamy smell lulls me straight to sleep. This night is as magical as nights can get.

The following morning greets me with a pair of sweet, doe eyes, glistening brighter than the sun. The cabin is still dark, due to the curtains hanging on the window, but the magnificent stranger in my arms is glowing enough for me to see her perfectly. I imagine waking up everyday to this sight and the dreaming continues.

-I had the most gorgeous sleep in your arms, stranger. - she confesses.

-I wish I never had to let you go. - this is probably the only sentence I’ve ever meant 100%.

-Unfortunately, we have to part ways in less than thirty minutes. 

After saying those words, she releases her soft hold on me, wanting to stand up and take my heart away with her. I let her go, knowing that holding onto her would only bring me even more pain eventually. So, I stand up too. I change into my casual clothes while she’s in the bathroom of the train and I try to somewhat anticipate her next words. What will she say? What challenge will she give me next? As I ponder my thoughts, she comes back from the bathroom, leaving me no time to plan anything.

She’s wearing another dress, this time, something more casual. It’s a knit dress, fitting her body like a glove, showing off her forms. I swallow my dirty thoughts, trying my best not to rip that thing off her body.

She looks at me a bit frightened, sad, but once she slowly gets closer to me, I get her message. I kiss her passionately, memorizing the feel of her lips against mine. I leave an imprint of her body pressed against mine somewhere in the back of my head, as my hands caress every inch of her back. With her arms wrapped around my neck, she pulls back from the kiss, staring into my eyes.

-I wish I’d met you in another life. - she says, sighing regretfully.

-What’s wrong with this life? - I ask, confused.

-This life is too cruel for something so beautiful and pure to stand.

-You made me fall in love with you, stranger. There’s nothing more cruel than that. 

She smiles seducingly, pursing her lips, embarrassed. With one last look into my eyes, she’s out of my embrace and once and for all, out of my life. I watch her walk away with her luggage in one hand and a sad nuance in her eyes, going off to continue her journey, whatever that may be. 

I’m left all alone in the Italian train station, my heart stolen and my thoughts unsettled. I’m back to square one regarding my identity, but one thing is for sure. I want that man who met a stranger on the train to be my forever identity. Mysterious, charming, effortless… I liked him. Maybe just because she liked him first. 

 

***

 

My breath hitches in the back of my throat. My vision gets blurry from the tears as my memory revives these moments precisely. How could I forget? I lived this story. This is my story. It’s him. He’s the author of this masterpiece. A painful masterpiece that is about to tear me apart in the most beautiful way ever. I start hyperventilating while more and more people join us in the room. I look at Carson who smirks, very pleased with my reaction.

-Isn’t it genius? My friend is an incredible author, this movie is going to break every record there is, mark my words.

-Uhm Carson… Who is this friend of yours? What’s his name? 

My heart is pounding at the thought of me possibly meeting those ocean eyes again, let alone associating that stranger with a name.

-Blake Shelton. - as his name drips like honey through my ears, the door of the conference room opens once again.

A tall, toned body, wrapped around a casual fancy outfit is all I need to see before standing up in shock and terror. His arm is linked to a woman’s. A short, blonde girl, undeserving of his perfection. He doesn’t see me for a few seconds, as people keep shaking hands with him, craving his attention, but a slight turn of his head makes him reunite our gazes for the first time in over a year. 

I must look dazzled and shocked and terrified, all at once, but the second he laid eyes on me, he not only recognized me, but his feet led him automatically to me, maintaining his distance. Everyone else is too preoccupied with themselves to mind us, but the short woman has her attention strictly set on the handsome cowboy.

-Hi… - I say quietly, watching him scan my face in silence.

He seems stunned. Speechless.

-Blake Shelton… - I say, gaining a smile on his face.

-You know my name… Does that mean that now I get to know yours? - he cocks his head to the side adorably. 

-I’m sure you will. - I say, copying his movement and making him chuckle.

-You’ll never stop making me work for it, huh?

-You know I won’t. I like to keep you on your toes.

-Well I’m very happy to know that our story isn’t over.

-It might be. - I say, looking past him to the pissed off woman.

We’re not making out or something, but she looks at us as if we were seriously in trouble.

-Oh… I never thought I’d see you again, I…

-Blake, don’t even begin that sentence. I’m happy you moved on with your life and I’m even happier if you found what you were looking for.

-I uh… Yeah… Thank you.  - he says, looking down to the ground. 

-Blake… - I say, not wanting him to go there.

- Stick around after the meeting, please. I have to talk to you.

-What about?

-I don’t know. - he confesses sincerely.

I look into his eyes one last time before we’re being pulled apart and told to have a seat. We sat as far away from each other as humanly possible and I’m afraid that the whole meeting passed right by me, it’s like I was never even there. It’s his voice that brings me back to reality.

-You see, had I known your name was Gwen Stefani, I’d have never talked to you. 

I smirk at his affirmation, turning around to face him intrigued.

-How so?

-Gwen is a royal name, extremely sophisticated, a name that a very valuable person would carry.

-Good thing I didn’t tell you, then. Now you know you have nothing to be afraid of.

He smiles at my comeback, stretching out his hand to me.

-Hi, I’m Blake Shelton. - he says, as if we’re meeting for the first time.

But we aren’t. In fact, I’ve seen him so often inside my head, that by now, it’s almost normal to see him again. The name Blake suits him to perfection, I must say.

-I’m Gwen Stefani. - I shake his hand softly, feeling the electricity course throughout my whole body.

-See? That’s how you meet somebody. - he scolds me playfully, not letting go of my hand for a little while.

-What are we doing, Blake? - I ask with a sad tone in my voice.

-I don’t know, Gwen, but I’ve been obsessed with the thought of you, obviously…

-You wrote about me.

-A whole book too…

-Does she know?

-No. And I don’t plan on telling her. No one but Carson knows I actually took that trip and I want to keep it that way.

-You’re making a mistake.

-I’m making a bunch of ‘em, but I don’t want to explain myself to anyone.

-She’s your girlfriend! - I say, conflicted.

-And I really like her, but I have to deal with this the best way I know how.

-By lying to her? 

-By trying to figure out what the fuck this feeling is… - he responds, somehow making sense.

I look down, retracting my hand from his. I can’t allow myself to feel this much around him. I can’t get attached, I always do and it always ends up with me crying on the couch. 

-Gwen… It was a stupid attraction, right? We barely know each other, it’s not fair to put this much pressure on this meeting. Let’s start over and just work together on this movie. It’s going to be fun.

-I didn’t sign a contract, so I’m not tied to this. I’ll do the right thing and exclude myself from this equation.

-No, hey… - he grabs my hand, stopping me from turning around - I don’t want you to do that, Gwen. We met again. And it was a pure coincidence, except I don’t believe in them.

-Neither do I, Blake, but we can’t apply that fate crap now, can we? You’re in a relationship and you’re clearly doing the wrong thing by lying to her.

-What are you saying?

-I’ll do the right thing and not get mixed up in this mess.

-Think of this as a work opportunity. Had it not been me in this position, would you take the job?

Of course I would. His book must be a complete killer… He’s the most interesting man I’ve ever met and his writing is immaculate. I might not work in this industry, but I’d be honored to work in such a project. But not when it’s my story on the line.

-Bye, Blake. - I turn back around, trying not to show him my tears.

I walk out of the conference room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. I fantasized about us meeting again so many times, but in neither one of my scenarios was there a woman by his side. That’s also why I don’t know how to react. A part of me was convinced that we were never going to meet again, but a part of me always felt like we belonged. 

I said we’d let fate decide whether we were worthy of a second chance. We’d let fate decide whether this is true love, or a simple physical attraction that can be satisfied quickly. Well… fate has spoken, but it seems like we don’t know how to hear it.

I guess I’ll just have to wait and see how the story unfolds for us. My guess? It’s one of those love stories that leaves you bawling by the last page.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Too Good Of A Memory

Notes:

I hope that this isn't a super confusing chapter. Everything written between *** is Blake's book. Also, let me know if you want to read Blake's book. I compiled all of the paragraphs and I made up a whole new plot in Blake's fictional world. Let me know!

***

 

It all started with a letter. A letter that changed my life for good. A letter that destroyed and built our family all at once. A letter of heavy words. 

It all started with a simple man, like you and me.

He lost touch with his family when he went to work in the army, as required. His line of work was extremely dangerous and they were obliged to stay away from any emotional attachment. But being a handsome, wealthy man always came with advantages. And disadvantages… he knocked up a girl, also catching feelings in the process, which could have cost him his job. He kept her a secret for the longest time, praying to God that his captain wouldn’t find out. Without this job, he wouldn’t be able to help his growing family in any way and that was terrifying for him. He wanted his baby girl to have the whole world. So, he kept them both a secret. Until a letter came into the picture.

 

‘Dear Richard, 

I know I might be putting you in jeopardy, but I come with devastating news. I’m afraid your parents got into a terrible accident driving home from the firm. The funeral will take place the day after tomorrow at noon at their favorite church. I am not asking you to come, but I had to let you know. Your father left a testament behind and you are a big part of it. If your line of work allows it, I would love to talk to you about it.

I am terribly sorry for your loss… 

Sincerely, 

Damon Hart, lawyer’

 

He barely got through the letter, knowing exactly what he had to do next. He resigned from his job, promising himself that he will no longer have to hide from the people that he loved. Upon arrival at the funeral, Damon Hart had revealed a piece of information that changed his life. His father left his whole company to him. Every penny, every legacy and every property were now in his hands to hold. 

He finally did what he had to do and welcomed his baby girl into a married family and a big house with the most loving and caring mother that he could ever want his girl to grow up with. And that girl is my sister, Endy. 

We grew up with this story of our grandparent’s death as a valuable lesson about life: never leave the ones you love. It can only end up in regret and regret is the scariest feeling. It’s the feeling that you have when you leave a whole in someone else’s heart, breaking your heart in the process as well. It’s the feeling of simultaneous heartbreak .

I don’t know how much this story has affected me, but I know for a fact that I’m having trouble leaving things. People, places, careers… I have abandonment issues but backwards . I don’t even know which one is better, not being able to leave, or being left all the time. One thing is for sure, there are certain people I can’t seem to know how to cut out of me and the person who’s been hooding my mind has some wicked ways to make me want to never leave the thought of her.

 

***

 

Gwen’s POV

 

-Hi, Lizzie, thanks for seeing me… - I say, walking into my boss’ office.

-Hi, Gwen, please make it quick. - she says, being extremely busy.

-I got uhm a… proposal from Carson… It’s a job as a costume director for a movie he’ll be working on…

-Oh, yes, he’s told me about it. I sent him to you.

- Oh… - I say, shocked. - Well… I actually don’t know if I should take it…

- I think you should. - she says, staring at me. 

-But…

- Gwen, you know how much I love everything that comes out of your hand, right? Well this year, I had a hard time loving it because nothing came out of your hand. I’ve worked with designers my whole life, I know what an artist block is, but honey… You’ve been seriously distracted and quite frankly, I need you to get a new perspective on things. This is a challenge for you and I want you to take it. Otherwise, you leave me no other option than to replace you with someone not nearly as precious, but a thousand times more driven.

-I’m driven , Lizzy, I’ve just been dealing with some stuff… - I say, a little offended by her take on this.

-And I understand that too, but you dealing with your stuff has resulted in a year of decline for my company and I won’t allow that anymore. If Carson is working on this film, then it must be incredible and I think that a little promotion wouldn’t hurt our reputation. Sign the contract, or I’ll have to let you go, Gwen, I’m sorry.

Who am I kidding? She’s right, she has every right to fire me, I’ve been nothing but a useless expense to her company this year. I have to get back on track, but this is the worst thing I could do to help me do that. If anything, working on this movie will make me even more distracted.

So, I seek help.

I knock on Carson’s door, my heart struggling to keep a steady rhythm. 

-Gwen? What a nice surprise, come in! - he says warmly, calming me a bit.

I enter his beautiful house, handing him the little present I brought for Siri and the baby, for which he thanks me dearly. 

-Siri’s already got her hands full with bath time for the little one.

-I’m so sorry to bother you, I promise I won’t be long, I just had to talk to you about something…

-You better not be refusing my proposition, Gwen, or I swear to God… - he predicts.

-Carson, it’s actually more complicated than you’d think.

-What is so complicated about doing this, Gwen? You’re literally nowhere to be found, we barely even talk anymore and Lizzy tells me you haven’t been yourself at work either. I miss you, Gwen and it’s breaking me that I keep failing in trying to help you. It’s been months since we last got together, not to mention that I don’t even feel like I know you anymore. This would be the perfect opportunity to work together, be together every single day, you, me and Siri. This kid is growing so fast, you never even got to witness it.

-I know and I’m really sorry about that…

-But? You have no reason to say no to this, the crew is fucking amazing, not to mention that my friend’s story, whatever the end may be, is going to blow everyone’s minds, trust me, the guy is extremely talented.

-Spending every single day with that crew is exactly what I want to avoid.

-You have to give me the reason, Gwen… I’ve tried to make you talk and open up, I’ve tried not to force you, but it’s been a year and I’m desperate. Tell me the truth.

I sigh, knowing that it’s time to confess everything. 

-I haven’t been honest with you. - he signals me to sit down, pouring me a glass of scotch. - How I found out about Gavin… There’s a whole part of my life that I’ve kept a secret from everyone. 

He takes a seat across from me at the kitchen island, listening to every single word I had to say.

-Last year, after Paris fashion week, I went to Berlin to find Gavin. I wanted to see him again, I wanted to tell him I loved him. The only thing I knew was that he was working at this firm in Berlin, so I paid a visit only to find out that he had been transferred to the Italian branch. And so I went to Venice, I was given the address and once I arrived there, a woman opened the door. She had no idea who I was talking about and after a couple of days of confusion, I decided to call his mother. She was the one who told me about the accident. He died on his way home from work and he got buried in the UK to be with his family. 

Carson is a bit shocked, but he keeps his silence.

- That’s why it all messed me up so badly. The whole journey I was imagining what our reunion would look like and making up my courage to tell him everything that I kept in me for so long… When I found out that I was never getting to tell him anything ever again… It fell heavy on me. I’m much better now, I guess I’ll just have to cope with that regret, learn to live with it. I keep telling myself that there’s a reason I didn’t share my love with him when I should have, but I’ve been very unsettled because of it.

-That’s horrible , Gwen, I’m so sorry you had to go through that… - Carson says, touching my hand on the table.

-Yeah… There’s nothing I can do about it anymore, I guess.

-But what does that have to do with this movie? - he asks.

- Right . You see, I took the plane from Paris to Berlin, but there were no direct flights from Berlin to Venice, so I took the train… I met someone there who pretty much has been haunting me since.

He takes a minute to process everything and once he catches on, his eyes grow dramatically, before sketching the flirtiest smirk on his face.

- You’re the girl from the train… - he says in shock, shaking his head in disbelief. 

- I’m the girl… - I shrug my shoulders, taking a sip from the alcoholic beverage in front of me.

-Gwen, do you have any idea how magical this whole thing is now?? Any film director would die to have the author’s inspiration right in front of him. This is incredible . Fate literally brought you together…

-Carson, he has a girlfriend! - I say exasperated, catching his attention. - Do you have any idea how many times I’ve imagined that moment, the moment I’d see him again? And then it happened and he had a girl linked to him. I can’t work with him, Carson, I feel too much when I’m with him.

-No, you wanna know what I think? I think you’re chickening out of this one, just like you did with Gavin.

-Excuse me?!

-He’s your biggest regret, isn’t he? That you never confessed your love for him. Well don't make Blake your next regret, Gwen. I know the guy pretty well and I also know that all he’s been able to talk about was this mysterious, perfect woman he met on a fucking train. I won’t let you screw this up, not when you’re clearly meant to be together.

I scratch my head a bit annoyed, not knowing how to react to such affirmations. Mysterious. Perfect. He’s stealing my heart even without being in the same room as me. 

Oh but I feel him everywhere. In the room, in my heart, in my soul…

He’s never letting me breathe, always haunting me mercilessly, not allowing me to even breathe without thinking of him. 

-It’s all just a stupid attraction, Carson. I can’t love him, I didn’t even know his name until yesterday, ok?

-So then how do you explain the fact that he’s been haunting your mind and he literally wrote a whole ass book about you?

- Carson…

-Hey, listen to me, please… - I nod my head - Sign the contract. You work this film for as long as you feel comfortable and the minute you don’t, you pull the plug.

-Carson, that’s a terrible business idea.

-I don’t want you to feel obligated to be a part of this. Especially given the history you have with Blake.

-So what are you going to say to your partners?

-That it’s my fucking film and they have to fucking trust me on it. You’re not the only designer out there, after all, I can hire someone else if you decide it’s too much. 

I ponder his question, not really sure about what I should be doing, but my boss’ words are living in my mind rent-free. If a few months working on this film is what’s going to save my job, then what the hell.

- Fine . 

We shake hands friendly to seal the deal and then we proceed to talking about our own stuff, until he makes me spill the tea regarding that night on the train. Siri joins us in our conversation and we spend a good two hours together, just like we used to back in the day.

-I really needed this, Gwen… - Siri says, making me tear up.

-I’m sorry I’ve been so lost lately… I just haven't been feeling myself and I’m trying to get better.

-I just wish you’d let us help you in some way, you know you can always talk to us. - Carson encourages me.

I sigh, somewhat feeling guilty for pushing them away like that, but then I realize that I don’t want to feel this way, that I didn’t choose to be this sad and overwhelmed by my emotions. 

-What are you going to do about Blake? - Siri asks.

-Nothing, he has a girlfriend. I can’t love him, guys, I don’t even know him. We just had a stupid attraction, that’s all…

-You keep telling yourself that, because not only did I read that story, but I witnessed him writing it. He couldn’t stop talking about you, thinking about you.

-How well do you know him?

-Well enough. He’s been my best friend for a while now. He’s a really good guy.

-Yeah… Well, thank you guys for this, I really missed hanging out with you.

-We’ll be hanging out a lot more from now. - Carson says, smiling suggestively.

I try my best to keep up appearances for another five minutes or so, until I’m in my car, driving out of Carson’s property. That’s when I start crying. I don’t even know why I’m crying, I just know it feels good. I turn up the radio, I let down the window to let the cold Oklahoma air wake me and I drive to my favorite spot. The place is completely deserted, so I park my car carelessly on the coast, feeling the need for a little walk around the sandy beach downhill. I grab my jacket and I lose myself in the beautiful sound of the ocean, beaming regularly as the waves crash to the shore. I make my way down to the sand where I take off my shoes and I pause a little bit to really take in everything that’s been going on.

It’s been more than twenty four hours since I last saw him and I can’t recover from the encounter. It’s like I was reborn, like a breath of fresh air. I was happy again, I was mysterious and sexy again. I was myself. The way I found out about Gavin’s death really fucked with me and the only thought that made my trip sound a bit better was my encounter with my mystery man. So naturally, meeting him again was a little difficult. It reminded me about the wonderful trip, but it also reminded me of my destination. It’s the most conflicting feeling I’ve ever felt. Not to mention that seeing him with another woman doesn’t sit well with me. 

I don’t know why. After all, we were never in a relationship, nor did we engage into anything physical, but God, it feels like he was meant for me and no one else. It feels like he’s somehow betraying me, but I know he isn’t. I also know it’s not fair of me to be mad at him for this. He moved on and it’s good that he did. Perhaps I should have done that too, but I’m afraid that my wounds are not done healing and to bring someone into this equation would be a crime.

However, it doesn’t matter how many explanations I give myself, it all comes down to this feeling of jealousy and anger. He said that it didn’t mean anything, that it was just a stupid attraction… Was it? 

If it was, why is he writing about me? Why did he say that he was falling in love with me? Why could he not stop talking about me? 

A million other questions flood my mind, but I seem to fail in coming up with the answers. So, I end up putting all the blame on that poor woman, trying to convince myself that he wouldn’t have lied to me if he hadn't been in a relationship.

But it’s not enough. The pages I read made me feel so much… They brought me back to that memory. A memory that no matter how many times was replayed in my head, I was never able to recreate it precisely. But he did.

Every line, every word, every feeling… It’s like he was writing every single detail about me in that moment. I never thought someone could pay so much attention to me. He remembered everything. 

So how can a person not feel anything in those moments? How can you say that it was just a stupid attraction, when you probably spent months trying to recreate every single word that the person has said? How can you lie to me like that, when you already know I see right through you?

A bunch of things don’t make sense to me right now, but one thing is for sure, I’m done trying to figure it out. I will allow myself to feel however I feel, without putting any pressure on the motive. And so, I feel. 

I feel sad and worried and overwhelmed. I feel jealous and angry and conflicted. I’m attracted to him. I can’t look at him without feeling his lips on mine and only God knows where my thoughts go when I hear his voice. This job is going to be the death of me. 

 

Blake’s POV

 

I look down to the woman laying on my lap and I can’t believe what’s happening to me. We’ve only been together for a few months, I know that I don’t love her yet, but a part of me is scared that I won’t ever be able to love her. Not after meeting Gwen. 

Seeing her today was like a dream come true. I had pictured that moment for about a million times and it was even better than my mind could have ever imagined. I actually saw her. I got to breathe in her unforgettable perfume and I got to hear her soothing voice… She mesmerizes me with everything that she does and by this point I don’t even know if she’s even that extraordinary, or if I’m just easily impressed. 

By the way everyone turns their heads for her, I’d say it’s not just me. By the way she blows away every mind with a single intelligent reply, I’d say she’s one of a kind and everyone can see it. I’m not going to stand in the way of fate reuniting us, as promised.

I prayed for today’s event. I prayed long and hard and I might not have handled the situation properly by running away from my previous relationship into the eyes of a woman I’ve spent fifteen hours with, but I felt it in my heart that that’s what I should concentrate on.

A beautiful, smart, mind-blowing and sassy blonde, whose name came as an epiphany, making me fall in love with its originality. 

Gwen Stefani. A name worthy of such a perfect woman.

Stop it. 

You’re happily involved with someone who is amazing and sweet and caring and there’s no reason for you to look for anyone else. But she’s haunting me. She’s not letting me breathe. All I seem to be able to do, is think about her and that night.

That damned night.

 

***

 

And so, the story I grew up with turned out to be a reality of my own in a way. You see, being raised in a rich household gave me unlimited possibilities and because of that, I never met the hardship of life. The biggest mistake a man can go through. Because once you’re all brought up in a world full of sunshine and rainbows, real life tends to clash into you the minute you escape your nest. And that’s exactly what happened to me.

I thought that just because I was passionate about singing and writing, I’ll actually be able to do that for a living and nail it and become successful without a problem, but you see, my truth is far from that. Once I moved out to Nashville to pursue my dream, I realized that I need money to pay rent and food on my table and because I tend to be a bit stubborn , I refused to ask my parents for help. After all, they were completely against my career of choice and I wanted to prove them all wrong. So I did . 

After five years of roofing houses to be able to make rent, I finally could afford to work as a full-time writer and actually survive . But it wasn’t easy. Those five years were the hardest I ever had to face. 

But she made it better. She made everything better.

I was convinced that she was the love of my life. We fit together perfectly and my love for her was the most intense feeling I had ever felt before. She didn’t care that I was poor, she didn’t care that I had my head in the clouds and a dream in my heart, she supported me through it. And once I made it, once I finally had enough money to buy her the ring that she deserved… 

 

‘I have to know…’ - Miranda.

 

And that’s the note she left me. Four words that have messed up my whole existence in less than the two seconds that it took for me to read it and understand it. The real irony here is that this note isn’t the thing that changed me for good… It was the letter that followed. 

 

‘Dear Mr. Shelton, 

I am incredibly sorry to inform you that a terrible tragedy has happened, which resulted in your father’s passing. I cannot even begin to understand what you are feeling right now, but I must let you know that there has been a written testament left behind and you happen to be the main part of it. I do not expect to hear from you too soon, but I would appreciate it if you reached out to me as soon as possible. We have a great amount of work to go through regarding this will. I am so sorry for your loss.

Sincerely, 

Brendan Holt’

 

And that’s the letter that broke my broken pieces even smaller . That’s what put an end to me and my identity. That’s when the questions started.

Why did she leave me? Why did he leave me? Why is it all happening at the same time? What lesson am I supposed to take from this? What God would give me this much to carry?

Not only was I hurt and disappointed in myself, but I was also unbelievably confused. I didn’t know what was happening to me and when I went back home to my mother… I couldn’t recognize her. The love of her life had disappeared for good and so did mine. We were both clueless, we didn’t know why. But we knew we had to stick together. 

The will provided a long list of instructions that included my new occupation: business man. I was officially named the new CEO of Smithworks Vodka and even though I had no professional background, I was allowed to practice anyway. So, the next day after the funeral, I dressed up in the only suit I owned and I presented myself at the office, trying to get the hang of everything. Thankfully, Mike, my father’s right hand, was there to coach me through it all, so in a matter of three months, I was running the place like I was born to do it. And maybe I was.

Another thought that messed with my identity. 

Before getting that company, I used to swear that I would never pursue that line of work, but the deeper I got into it, the better I started to like it. Hard work, but classy and respectable, unlimited hours, but also unlimited money. It was a lifestyle I was yet to get used to. 

But what about my dream? What about the thing that actually brought me happiness?

I kept doing it. I had albums constantly battling for the first placement on every chart, not to mention that I was writing like crazy. Heartache, pain, misfortune and misery were just a few topics that I had exhausted and by that time, I managed to pick up all the pieces.

The only problem was that now , I didn’t know what to do with them. What sort of glue can be strong enough to put a broken heart together? What will I have to do to find happiness again? 

And so, I left . I did the only thing I knew how and took a few weeks off the office duty, telling no one what was about to happen. In fact, I started tracing my father’s steps all throughout Europe. 

If you can believe it or not, my father was quite the writer as well and every now and then, he was able to write a letter to his family, but since he could only send one letter out, he preferred sending it to my mother. In every single one of these letters, he wrote the town he was in at that moment. Europe was under the communist regime and the secret services that he was involved in was a very dangerous territory for a young soldier with the will to come back to his growing family. 

And so, I traced his steps, starting with Berlin, Germany. My father was describing the Berlin Wall to my mother, saying that the end was never seen. Families were destroyed, hope was ruined and there was no sunshine. The words he uses leave a mark on my brain and actually seeing the remains of the wall in the middle of the city was shocking . Of course, for tourism reasons, there’s speakers along the cement construction, describing its purpose, but touching the rough surface, I imagined my father touched that exact spot, feeling a little bit closer to him. 

It might be absurd to think that this was possible, but I liked to believe in it, it gave me comfort. I liked touching a part of his past. 

After a brief visit around Germany, seeing all the other places of the country that my father has worked in, I went back to Berlin, wanting to feel exactly what my father went through. Going from one country to another during communism was an almost impossible task, not to mention illegal and it could have cost you a life long in prison, at best. So, because the soldiers of the secret services had to work undercover, they needed a way to sneak past the guards and run out of the country. How did they do that? By freight trains.

They would sneak into the wagons and try their best to survive the whole ride to the destination and get out unseen. But of course, they weren’t the only ones trying out this technique, so the wagons were heavily guarded. With the right strategy and a great amount of luck, they arrived in Venice, Italy. 

So this is where the story actually starts. 

***

 

I sigh, looking up to the ceiling, imagining that my dad is looking down at me, thinking the same thing as me: ‘I wish I spent more time with you when I had the chance’.  

And as my girlfriend sleeps with her head on my lap, I swallow the lump in my throat and I caress her hair, struggling to be affectionate and loving to a person I don’t have feelings for. 

Chapter 3: Artist Block

Notes:

Big things are coming for these two... I hope you're hooked because I'm pretty freaking proud of this story. Let me now what you think!

Being a writer is all fun and games until the moment you realize that you no longer know how to write. It happens all the time. Not only do you have nothing to write about, but it also feels like you are learning the alphabet all over again: words don’t make any sense, feelings are only standing in your way and your life becomes a big pile of unproductivity. We call this an artist’s block. 

Well it’s fair to say that I’ve been living on this pile of unproductivity for months now. This book isn’t going anywhere and I feel like this whole project is going to come down crashing on me, letting everyone down. Carson is making great effort to make everything happen and I feel like I’m only standing in the way. I feel pressured to write and I don’t like it. It’s never been this bad before and it’s probably why I’m struggling so hard. A lot of people depend on me.

These are just some of my thoughts as I’m on my way to the meeting regarding the film. It’s the first official meeting where we all sign the papers and we shake hands, offering each other words of encouragement and warm smiles, with hidden reasons underneath. Everyone is taking part in this project for a reason; I want to fulfill my dream of writing a book that will be a part of someone’s life. A book that marks someone or that encourages someone to do what I’ve been too scared to do my whole life. 

I’m selfish. I’m mean and manipulative. I’m a liar. 

I lie to myself , I lie to my girlfriend and I lie to Gwen . I’m the worst. But some of the people I will never afford to lie to are my readers . To them, my truth will be their truth. 

I enter the building with an incredibly low self-esteem that is quickly cheered up by my collaborators. 

-Hi, everybody! - I say, smiling fakely, shaking hands and acting nice.

The meeting starts effective immediately but my ears aren’t in tune with what Carson is talking about. All I can hear is Gwen’s voice in my head. I haven’t heard her voice in over two weeks since that last meeting, so seeing her again made me realize how much I missed it. She’s dressed in a casual pair of jeans and a suit jacket overtop, with a killer pair of stiletto heels. She’s breathtaking . 

So, instead of concentrating on the meeting, I pull out my notebook and I start writing for the first time in a few months. Inspiration hits the instant that the pen cap is off and my words flow as smoothly as a waterfall on a rainy day. 

 

***

 

My mind is heavy with the memories of the mysterious woman and because I have a mission to fulfill, I decide to let out my thoughts, by writing her letters . I can’t afford to be distracted by such a presence, otherwise, this whole journey would be in vain. My dad used to send my mom letters all the time and I’m more than conscious of the fact that she most probably will never read them, but I think I would feel more at peace if I got to write all of my feelings down, pretending that she reads every single word, even the ones that aren’t written.

 

Dear stranger,

I cannot even begin to describe how much I needed to meet you. You have shown me a side of myself I never knew existed. I never told you about my journey through Europe, but maybe I can start now. 

It’s been a lonely time, even though Europeans have proved to be quite inviting and kind. It wasn’t meant to be a fun traveling experience to find inspiration, it was actually supposed to help me get closer with my dad, to help me understand who I am. You see, right after I left home to pursue my dream, my father and I got into an ugly fight which resulted in me running away. The last time I saw him was at his funeral and because of that, I will never allow myself to lose touch with the people that matter to me. I was young and selfish and impulsive. Maybe this is not the best impression of myself, but I am of the opinion that when you love a person, you love everything about them; the good and the bad. Well, can you still think of me with the same amount of love now that you know my secret? Can you love me if all I am is bad?

I want to know what you’ve been up to. As for myself, I’ve been thinking about you every single second of every single day and I can’t say it hasn’t been fun. I just wish I got one more day with you. After one more day I bet I could have made you stay. I could’ve convinced you that we were worthy. 

I will not stop writing letters for you until the day you get to read them. Call me a crazy stranger, but remember that I am your crazy stranger. 

Love, me.

 

***

 

I look at her sitting in front of me and I can’t even keep my pen from writing a whole new letter, telling her how much I wish she was mine.

 

***

 

Dear stranger, 

I miss you. I miss you a lot. I don’t know if it’s your presence that I miss, or the way I felt when I was around you, but I crave it. Whatever it is, I crave it. 

Why did you leave us in the hands of fate? Why did you run from me, why did you run to him? One day we’ll meet again and the minute that we do, I promise you, I will not let you go. I’ll haunt you just the way you haunt me until you decide it’s not worth fighting. 

I wish you stayed. 

But I’m supposed to move on with my life, right? How do I do that? Did you leave me a manual, or maybe a step-by-step instruction set? I’m all on my own with feelings I don’t know how to manage and I could use your help. I’ve been in Venice now for four days and I’m still wandering around the city hoping I’d bump into you. You might not care, but I’ll share an update with you. I managed to find actual proof that my dad came here on duty, just like he said he did in his letters. I went by a historical archive, where I asked around and the only English-understanding person there came back with a sealed box with his name on it. In the box there was an old gun, some rusty bullets and his soldier cap. I teared up at the sight and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I finally found something linking this trip to him directly and I’ve decided to keep all these objects in the honor of my dad. I don’t know how I’d be able to sneak in an old army gun by the airport, so I decided to ship it over to America as soon as possible. 

You might not be excited by a gun, a few rusty bullets and a cap, but for me, it’s like finally forgiving myself for all the time I wasn’t there. I know, it’s stupid. Just because I found these old things doesn’t make it ok that I grew apart from him, but I have to move on somehow. Am I crazy?

Probably. After all, I’m talking to my own imagination of your beautiful self. I’m not crazy, I’m just in love…

P.S. I’m looking at the stars every night, wondering if you’re looking up as well.

Love, me.

 

***

 

- Wow… I really bored you with the meeting, huh, Blake? - Carson’s voice wakes me up from my writing daze.

One look around the room and I realize that it’s just the two of us left in here. I sigh, somewhat embarrassed, and he gives me a sympathetic pat on the back. 

-It’s alright, man. I’m glad you’re writing again.

-Yeah, I got a few ideas I didn’t want to forget, I’m sorry…

-What have you got this far? - he asks and I hand him the notebook.

-I thought about a succession of letters the main character writes for the mystery girl in hopes that she’ll find them one day… I’m still thinking about an ending, but maybe something that has to do with a “people’s favorite” type of character…

I don’t think he even acknowledges the fact that I was speaking to him. He is extremely concentrated on finishing the pages, so I let him be for a few minutes, until he breaks eye contact with the notebook.

-What the fuck is wrong with you?

- What?! - I say, somewhat offended. 

-Ok, here’s the deal, Blake. You can’t keep writing about this girl, ok? She was literally here minutes ago and you didn’t even look at her for two seconds when you started writing a whole new lead for the book. 

I never told Carson that the girl was Gwen…

-How did you…

-She told me about you two. She’s the girl from the train and you’re an idiot .

- Hey!

- No, you know what, I don’t understand you, man! She’s amazing and you know it, damn it, you’re writing about it. Yet, you're not willing to open your eyes and see what’s right in front of you.

-Ok, Carson, that’s enough.

-No, it’s not. I’ve been waiting for you to start writing again for months and now that you saw her again, your inspiration comes back with a banger , dude! I wonder why that is…

-It’s complicated.

-It’s not . She’s all you were able to talk about after your trip was over and once you wrote your heart out on paper, you entered an artist block that I haven’t been able to take you out of, until you met her again . This is a big ass sign and you’re not even trying to see it.

-I’m in a happy relationship, Carson.

- Are you? Does Kathryn help your artist block? I bet she’s the one who causes it…

-What did you just say?! - I get angry. - You’re crossing all sorts of lines right now. - I warn him.

-I am, because you are too. - he sighs. - I’ve known Gwen for a really long time and if I had to pick one, I’d pick her over you any given day. Wanna know why? Because she’s always been true to her feelings and her feelings never lie. You’re in love with her, but you’re scared to be with her, so instead you try to convince yourself that Kathryn is enough when we both know she isn’t. I really like her, but she’s not enough for you, is she? She’s not the one taunting you at night, keeping you awake, is she?

His words are twisting inside my mind and I feel too dizzy to breathe anymore.

-Let me tell you something, Carson. She might not be enough, but Gwen’s too much. She’s perfect, Carson. She’s literally the girl of my dreams, but what if I’m not the man of hers? What if we get together and she decides I’m not enough, just like Miranda did? What if she wakes up one day, meeting someone better and she leaves? I was left one too many times by people that I loved. I can’t afford to lose someone as perfect as she is, I’d never be able to get over that. So yeah, I’d rather stick with someone who will stick . 

-You go ahead and choose the coward’s road. She could have anyone , Blake, but if you just thought about the fact that someone can very easily fall in love with you on a train ride, just like you have, your life would be much easier. Let’s just say that you’re not the only one feeling like this. You’re just the only one not admitting his true feelings. Not to mention that you’re playing with two women at the same time and that is dangerous territory. I just hope you won’t end up with neither of them. 

-Carson, I don’t like the position that I’m in, ok? I’m torn and I would love for things to be different, but Kathryn did nothing wrong and I don’t feel like dumping her because I really care about her. She’s been nothing but a great girlfriend this whole time and it’s not fair. Gwen didn’t want to share her name, she didn’t want me to find her so I didn’t look. I followed her plan precisely and now I’m the bad guy for not falling at her feet?

-Just talk to her, man… You told her that that night meant nothing to you and we both know that’s not true. If you want to be able to work together without it being cringe, just talk to her about it, but don’t lie to her, man… That’s a dick move. Talk to her, have some closure.

I look at him, sighing heavily. My chest rises and falls with ease as my thoughts never stop coming in.

-Give me her address… - I finally say, feeling my heart racing inside my body.

He smiles, writing it down on a piece of paper and I rush out of there, wanting to get it over with.

 

Thirty minutes later…

 

I pull up in front of a luxurious house, as the electronic gates close behind me. I’m very nervous knowing that I’ll have to talk to her again and on my way here I got so excited that I went to buy her flowers, but now I’m thinking that maybe it’s a little much. I bought them for her, so I might as well just give them to her… 

She exits her house, probably at the sound of the gates opening. I see her stop somewhat surprised by her sight. I pull out the flowers and she sketches a smile, but she’s afraid to fully let it show yet. 

-I’m sorry to bother you. - I say, approaching her slowly.

-No you’re not, otherwise you wouldn't be here, but I’m glad you are. - God…

Her voice… Her sass…

-You are? After our last encounter I thought I’d have to force my way into your property… Jump over a fence or something… - she smiles, accepting my flowers.

-I would have made you, but Carson called on your way here. 

-Ahh… - I nod my head, pursing my lips. - Look… I’m really sorry…

-Me too, Blake. - she says, looking down to the ground.

She opens the front door, inviting me in. Her mansion is lightly decorated in neutral colors which I find extremely pleasing and relaxing. However, it is nothing short of luxury. It probably cost millions of dollars to make it like this. It’s got high ceilings and a rustic touch, but also modern and chic at the same time. I don’t know how to describe it, it’s just like… Her … It’s exactly the type of house I imagined her living in.

-You have a really nice place here… - he says, looking around the huge house. 

-Thank you. It gets a little lonely sometimes, but it’s mostly a very relaxing space for me.

-It feels very comfy indeed. I was expecting something a little more eccentric, though, given that you’re a designer.

-I work with color everyday and even though I love it, it can become a little too much. Coming home to a nice, warm, calm space is actually very invigorating.

He nods, smiling shyly, not really knowing what to say next.

-Do you want something to drink? 

-No, thank you, I’m driving so… 

-Well maybe a cup of tea?

-Yeah, tea sounds amazing, thank you…

She fills up the boiler with warm water, placing it over the stove. I watch her attentively as she walks around her kitchen with grace and confidence, putting her flowers in a vase.

-So. Carson told me you wanted to talk to me. What about? - she asks, her back turned to me.

-Yeah well, I wanted to… Start over… I was unfair when we met two weeks ago and I want to make it right. We’re going to be working together a lot and I want us both to be comfortable and to even have fun working on this project. 

-I agree. Things were a little awkward, right?

-You have no idea. I haven’t been myself these last few weeks… These last few months , actually… After I came back from my trip, I had a really good time. I was writing, I was working… It was all fine, but then… I don’t know, the memories got the best of me… Kathryn, my girlfriend, she managed to get me out of the whole I had dug myself, but sometimes it just feels like I’m digging even deeper rather than escaping.

-How long have you been together?

-Five months already. Yeah, she’s been good for me… She also meant the end of my inspiration though… - I admit, playing with my fingers on the table.

-I don’t believe that.

- I do. Carson was right about it, she doesn’t challenge me in any way and I think I need someone to dare me to get out of my comfort zone. That’s why I’m here.

-What do you mean? - she tilts her head adorably.

-I want to keep talking to you, if it’s possible. I want to talk to you about that night. If you think it’s too much to ask, then I’ll stop immediately, but I’m all out of ideas for this book. I really think I could use your side of the story. 

-That’s a lot to ask from a person you pretend to have shared nothing with. 

-I’m sorry about that. I lied to you and there’s no reason why you should trust me, but I had to try. I’m begging you, just think about it.

-I do like when you beg. - she raises her eyebrows, her features are sarcastic.

I chuckle softly, accepting the warm cup of tea. I know she’s mocking me, but god dammit that was a hot comeback…

-What are we talking about exactly?

-I want you to help me write this book and finish it. I think adding a feminine voice to this book could have a beautiful impact on my readers. 

-I’m not a writer.

- Everyone’s a writer. 

She raises her brow, intrigued. 

-And what would I be writing about?

-Yourself. Give me the inside scoop on what this mystery girl was going through when she went on that train. What made her sit next to a stranger and why did she pick him.

-Well I was all alone and…

-No no no no... - I interrupt her. - Write it. - I say, touching her hand.

-So you want me to write my heart out and tell you about that night?

-Don’t think of it like you and me. Write about your own character however you want to write about her. She doesn’t have to feel what you felt or to live what you lived. You will be the author, she will be the narrator. 

-I’m confused… Don’t you have writers for that?

-They weren't there on that train. They wouldn’t be able to put into words what we felt; two strangers meeting on a train and forming a connection deeper than ever before. They don’t understand it and they never will. But you do. 

She sits on my proposal for a few seconds, pondering my question. 

-I’ll write about it under one condition. You let me read everything you have written so far.

I whip out my laptop, opening the folders and she smiles, silently accepting my challenge.

 

***

 

Nashville was good to me. I learned everything there; how to work, how to live, how to pray… I learned how to live this life to the fullest and it’s something that my parents kept me from my whole childhood. I was far too protected, so when I went out into the real world all by myself, it was a culture shock. I didn’t even know how to turn on the stove. It was embarrassing, but it forced me to learn and deal with life. I’m grateful for that. 

I felt extremely guilty for running, but I had come to the conclusion that there was no other way I’d fulfill my dream. My family was conservative and overprotective at times, they didn’t allow me to discover myself. But Nashville did. And while doing that, I realized I’m probably the only one who’s been kept in captivity for as long as I had. I realized that business isn’t the only profession and there is so much more stuff more important than money. And the way I realized that was through a person I considered the love of my life. Miranda…

I met her while performing in a bar. She was waiting at said bar and she took my breath away with a simple line said in irritation. I don’t know why her words enchanted me, I could just feel a connection, so I asked her out. She gave me two wonderful years of her life and as our careers grew together, she felt the need to move on, go higher and higher. For me, I found what I was good for and I had managed to live off of my art quite comfortably. She was probably scared of the fact that I wouldn’t want to move, so she left. She snuck out in the middle of the night, and her last words to me were written on a piece of paper strategically placed on the coffee table. 

‘I just had to know… - Miranda.’

I understood those words better than any other words existent in the English dictionary. I understood exactly what she needed to know. She had to know what her life would look like without me in it. She had to know what it was like to not have anyone weighing you down to a place. She needed flexibility and with me in her life she wouldn’t have achieved it. Or so she thought. 

This is what bothered me most. She didn’t even try to live her life with me. She didn’t even want to see how good we could have been. She just left and never said goodbye. Maybe because a goodbye would have resulted in her never leaving anymore, or maybe it would have resulted in an ugly fight, following up with a breakup anyway… I don’t know. 

All I know is that I had already bought her a ring. I wasn’t planning on proposing to her immediately, but the thought had been dancing around my head for a little while. One day, I walked past a jewelry store and the ring on display caught my eye. I bought it with her in mind, promising myself that one day, that ring will make me the happiest man on earth. 

I know what you’re all wondering. Do I still have it? Well, I did pay a whole ass kidney on it, so you bet I still have it. Do I look at it from time to time whenever I miss the security of being in a relationship? Yes. But do I still think it’ll make me the happiest man alive? Also yes. Or at least I hope it will. 

Yes, I still have it and I plan on having it in my life forever, either in a box or on someone’s hand, this ring is going to be the witness of my life like a trusty partner. 

Miranda broke my heart in a million pieces, but a week after she vanished, that stupid email popped up in my inbox, making me aware of my own father’s death. I was so absorbed in my own personal vendetta that I didn’t even care to visit my parents from time to time, or at least call and check in on them… That will be my forever regret. I feel extremely sad and apologetic about it, but unfortunately, there’s nothing else left for me to do, other than make sure I am a part of my remaining family’s lives. 

The heartbreak I felt when I heard about my father was even worse than the one caused by Miranda. Because my father was a good father. He wasn’t the father that I needed , but he struggled to be the best dad he could be and I appreciated him for it. As for me, I wasn’t even a son to him for a few years, let alone a good son. I’m sad about it and I’ll forever be ashamed of myself because of it. 

I never had a father-son moment and it’s something that I needed and craved with all my being. That’s the reason I went on my trip. I needed my father-son adventure. 

 

***

 

I sit around for a couple of hours until she reads every segment of my book. These chapters don’t have any order. They’re chaotic and misunderstood, but that’s my partner’s business to make the ends meet. I’m sure Gwen understood everything, even if it was all a mess. She understands me.  

-Is this true? - she asks.

-Yes. Everything about it is true. 

-I’m really sorry about your dad, Blake…

-Thank you. I’ve made peace with it, but it’s not something that I’ve managed to do easily.

-How long ago did he pass away?

-Around three years ago… 

She turns off the laptop, having finished reading the segments of the book.

-I will write about my life, but I need you to understand that no matter what you read, you have to take it as it is and not ask me questions about it.

-Why not?

-Because we’re not there yet. And you definitely don’t know me enough to start acting like you do.

-I promise I won’t ask. I’ll take as much as you give me.

-Ok then, we have a deal. 

I touch her hand wanting to shake on it, but her soft, fragile hand keeps me from dangling it up and down. I just hold her hand gently, shocked by how graceful she can be. Her touch electrocutes me and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she feels it too. I let her go reluctantly, thinking I should probably get going. I gather my stuff, thanking her for the tea and everything.

-Hey Blake? - she says, making me turn around, as I’m about to leave. 

-Yeah?

-Why do you even want me to write? I never did this before, I could be really bad.

-I doubt you can be bad at something, but also… I’m all out of inspiration. I started writing again and I really think I was able to do that because of you . So, if writing with you will help me finish this thing, then… that’s what I’ll do.

-It’s funny how you need my help now… I never thought of you as an asshole, but you asking me to help you after basically flipping me off is a real dick move, just so you know.

She closes the door before I can say anything else about it, but it’s probably for the best. I walk back to my car, ashamed of my behavior. I knew it was a lot to ask, I just hadn't realized how bad it actually was. She’s right, I was an asshole and now I’m asking for her help…

I go home to Kathryn and I feel like killing myself.

-I think I just got out of my artist block… - I say, trying to seem chipper and she believes.

-Oh really? That’s great! - she can’t read through me, like Gwen…

-Yeah, I know… I’m actually eager to write again.

-That’s really good, babe! - she says, kissing me.

Her kiss doesn’t feel familiar anymore because for the last few days I’ve been living off the memory of someone else’s kiss, but it feels good to wake up to reality. I leave her to her own devices, as I hurry to my desk, opening my laptop again, wanting to let out some of these emotions.

Chapter 4: You're Confusing

Notes:

This chapter shows an insight on Gwen's side of the story and everything she went through up to this point. I hope you like it.
The next two chapters will be Blake's book and I'm thrilled to show you those. Until then, take this little teaser and we'll see each other next week!
Thank you so much for reading and I hope you're all safe and well. Enjoy!

Blake’s POV

 

***

 

I’ve never considered myself a writer . Anything ; a designer, a dreamer, a fighter, an artist; but never a writer. Yet here I am, associating words, creating sentences and arranging them into chapters. That’s all a writer does, right? No. A writer is someone who makes you feel their character’s emotions stronger than you’ve ever felt any feeling. A writer is someone who marks you with their words and they find a special place in your heart and can’t seem to find a way out. Ever.  

That’s what I want to accomplish, so… bear with me. 

I was told to write my story, so here I go. 

It all starts with a big family from Orange County. I was raised in a very traditional and christian household which led to a huge community of people who were inclined to doing good. So, when real life came upon me during college, it was a complete culture shock. My parents are the best people I know, but growing up, they were extremely conservative and they insisted that I followed a more realistic path than art, which is what I originally wanted. And I did. I went to law school and graduated, worked in an office for a little while, but that life wasn’t satisfying to me at all. However, during college I met this girl who enchanted me with her presence. Siri was my first and only roommate I’ve ever had. Since I wasn’t passionate about law, she was the one who helped me pass all my exams and she was the one who encouraged me to put money aside so I could go to art school and follow my dream. After graduating my second university, my career skyrocketed so much that I ended up being one of the most known designers in all America within months . 

My new career brought me a lot of joy and even though Siri and I moved on with our lives, we stayed friends all this time. She’s now married and thriving, getting adjusted to her new life as a mother, while I discovered my voice and vocation. Thanks to her, I was able to find myself and throughout this process, I met a lot of people who made an impact in my life. In terms of boyfriends, I can’t say I was madly in love with anyone so far and though I’m only twenty seven and I’m aware that I still have time, the thought of finding myself a forever person is a bit pressing.

My first ever love was Tony and you never forget your first. He was the one who taught me patience and humility. Then, there was John who taught me about heartache and humiliation. But Gavin… He was the one who kept me on my toes…

He was a photographer that I often worked with and we quickly became friends, as we had the same interests. He was handsome and interesting, I was never able to keep up with him and for a person who gets bored of things easily, he was a wonder.  

Our friendship got stronger and stronger and there was a certain chemistry between us so that one drunken night, we decided to change our status from close friends to friends with benefits . It was an experience that I hadn’t had before and I enjoyed it for a little time. That is until I figured out I’m not the type of girl to sleep around and not catch feelings. 

That was my first encounter with love. But he didn’t see it. Maybe he didn’t want to see it, maybe he didn’t care to see it, but I suffered a lot because of that. Of course, had I not been a complete coward, things would be different now, but it was unknown territory for me and my fright of rejection was strong. He started seeing someone so, obviously , I started acting really weird around him and when he kept reaching to me for pleasure , he really confused me.

We got into an argument that ended in him moving across the world with the opportunity of a job in Berlin, Germany. I suffered a lot after his departure. I had never experienced such a weird loss. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I wasn’t able to articulate any words of love around him for some reason.

I hated myself for it. I couldn’t believe that I was that big of a coward. I rathered letting him leave then telling him how I felt. I somehow convinced myself that if he felt the way I did, he wouldn’t have left me. All I know is that I lived with that burden in my heart for two years before deciding to do something about it.

I was in France for Paris fashion week and the thought of just flying to Berlin was too tempting not to pursue. I bought the tickets and in a matter of hours, I was on my way to Berlin to tell Gavin about how I felt. 

I went to the company that hired him and asked around for him. They told me that he had been transferred to another branch all the way in Italy and this girl tossed me an address, saying that I should find him there. Since there were no available planes to Venice, I had to settle on the rapid train. 

I can’t tell you how many feelings were overwhelming my heart. The idea of finally meeting him, finally telling him how I felt… It was surreal . All I could do was think about what I would say to him. 

I’d tell him that I missed him, I’d tell him that I thought about him all that time and that I needed to have him in my life in any form. It didn’t matter. 

Because the minute I stepped onto that train, I found a person who caught my eye pretty quickly and who promised me a forever of sorts with a simple glance. A very elegant, sophisticated gentleman was reading a book by the window. His outfit was expensive, but his cowboy boots were very out of the ordinary. He was reading a crime novel and his eyes would briefly scan the scenery out the window. After a few seconds of watching him intrigued, I listened to my gut and I decided to make a bold move, sitting in front of him...

But you already know this story. You've lived this story through him. You heard his thoughts, read his mind, saw his sights... You know how our story ends. But I will tell you this...

Parting from my mystery man was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I had to watch yet another man that I loved leave me without having the chance to tell him exactly what I felt. I suddenly couldn’t concentrate on my mission, the thoughts of him invading every inch of my personal space, not to mention that my poor heart was struggling to beat every time I thought about his blue, hypnotizing eyes. 

In order to get my thoughts straight, I decided to write him everything I felt. I knew that externalizing my feelings would bring me peace, so I started writing, as if he could read every single detail of the memories of him imprinted on my mind. 

 

‘Dear stranger,

I’m writing to let you know that you’ve marked me. You’ve stolen my heart and mind and I do not appreciate the gesture. How am I supposed to face my friend after such an encounter? How am I supposed to get over you? How am I supposed to wait for destiny to do its job?

I know it was my idea, but I just wish you had said no. I wish you would have made love to me on that train, without caring about ethics and consequences and just indulged into your desires. I wish you were selfish.

Or maybe I love that you’re not. I don’t know. I don’t know how to read my feelings anymore.

You’ve broken me. But you’ve also repaired me.

I hate you and love you at the same time.

Love, your stranger.’

 

My heart is at peace this way. I “told” him what was burdening my soul, so now I can move on with my mission. 

I approach the given address with nerves and fear. I knock on the door and a woman opens up, looking at me confused and even a bit scared. 

-Si? - she asks, wanting to know what my deal was.

-Do you speak English? - I try and she changes her demeanor, relaxing just a little bit.

-Yes, who are you? - she says, her strong accent lighting up the mood a bit.

-I’m looking for a man… I was given this address… Here, let me show you a photo. 

I whip out a picture of him on my phone and after a few seconds.

-No, scusate… - she says, dismissing me pretty quickly.

So, getting a little discouraged, I take a cab to his supposed workplace where they don’t tell me anything because of “privacy reasons”, no matter how much I bribe them, so I go to the very last resource. I ask around, I call every person I know and I get his mother's phone number. I call her. 

Hearing about his death was something that I never thought I ever had to go through. His mother broke down talking to me, but I was too shocked to cry. I was too shocked to do anything but sit in a corner in silence. Even that was too painful to accomplish, but luckily, I could spend the night in Venice and fly back home to take in everything in peace.

 

‘Dear stranger, 

My heart is heavy with all the bad emotions a person can feel: sadness, misery, doubt, regret, shame, stupidity, anger, fear etc.

I wish you were here. I wish I had your strong arms wrapped around me and your rough voice encouraging me through these hard times. He died, stranger… He died and I didn’t get the chance to tell him I loved him. But you know what? I’m not going to waste a minute telling you I love you because time is passing by and I won’t risk that with you.

I love you. I have loved you the minute you opened your mouth and even if you don’t feel the same, I still love you. A part of me will always wish we never parted. Even though it would have saved me a lot of heartache, I would have never been able to give myself to you completely. Some of me would still be clinging onto Gavin. Maybe it still is, maybe it’ll never stop. Either way, I had to know the truth, even if it hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced.

I lost him twice. Both times happened before I could share my feelings with him, so I will make sure that that never happens with you, stranger. If our destinies cross paths again, I won’t let you go before speaking my mind out. I promise. 

I can’t lose you too.

Love, your stranger.’

 

The next few months after returning home, I was numb. My whole body was aching with regret and the only way I got through it was by convincing myself that that was what had to happen. If I didn’t tell him how I felt, then it meant that I shouldn’t have told him. It meant that I had to let him go. I don’t know why, but my religion taught me better than to question God’s mysterious ways, so I don’t.  

The only thing I’m questioning is whether or not my stranger still thinks about me. I sure am still thinking about him. I miss him. I miss that strong woman who met him, who made up the courage to walk up to him and follow her heart. I’m jealous of that woman.

He probably thinks it’s who I am all the time, but if only he knew how different I am when he’s not with me. He gives me power, inspiration. He makes me want to be mysterious and seductive. He makes me the woman I’ve always wanted to be. The woman I’ve always strived to become. 

I miss him. I miss his eyes, I miss his voice and I miss his mind. His mind fascinated me. Not only did he keep up with me and my messy mind, but we were so in tune that it was a little bit scary. We were almost too perfect together. It’s like we were made for each other. 

I had to let us in the hands of faith. I had to continue my journey alone and sort through my thoughts without him. Whether or not we’ll meet again remains a mystery, but for now, I live with a memory of meeting the man of my dreams. It’s not enough, nothing will ever be enough unless it’s him, but for now, I manage to live with only the memory of him.  

 

***

 

It’s like reading the mirror. I hate it. I can’t stand it. Reading her finished draft makes me want to drive over there and kiss her lips until we become an item. It makes me want to scream and shout and break and destroy . She kills me. 

This just became too real for me.

However, I know exactly what I have to do. I don’t get out of my office for days to come and I finish the story. All of it. I cannot even explain how proud I am of it. Carson was right, she inspires me. She brings out the best in me. 

 

Gwen’s POV

 

I write everything I feel and I can only hope for the best outcome. What would that be? It would have something to do with us finding a way to be around each other without feeling the need to kiss the shit out of each other. That would be a start. 

He doesn't respond to my email for days and my heart can't handle the pressure anymore. I want to read his mind. I want to know what he thinks of my writing. 

-He finished the story, Gwen. Not only did he finish it, but he nailed it. It's going to be one of the highest requested films of all time. 

-But didn't he say anything about my writing?

-Him finishing the book is enough to prove to me once again that you're exactly what he needs in order to become the best version of himself.

-Stop saying things like that, Carson. He has someone and he cares about her a lot . I could never be the other girl and you know it. 

-As long as you're the one he writes about, you can tell me whatever the hell you want. My mind’s made up already.

And he's right. I'm the girl he writes for and about . I'm the one he's searching for through his head, but he's the one who won't act on it. How could I? I'm not the one involved with someone else.

And so, a couple more weeks pass by and the papers are all done and ready to go. We have a lot of meetings and one of them includes discussing the finishing details of the committees. A few minutes into the meeting and I realize that everyone there has read the book but me . I can’t tell you how I felt. It wasn’t jealousy, nor disappointment, nor sadness. It was just terrible . My heart felt heavy and my chest was pressured. Tears came into my eyes and my head was pounding. 

He sees me. He feels me. His face falls and I see that he feels like the biggest jerk. As he should. After two intense hours, I watch him stop the meeting, coming over to my chair while dismissing everyone else in the room.

-I didn't send you the book.

-I noticed. You also didn’t give me any feedback. Do you have a reason?

-I'm scared. I'm a coward, I have no excuses. 

-That’s a great thing to say, Blake really . - I say sarcastically. - I deserved some feedback. Also, a copy of the book would have been nice. 

-I'm sorry…

-Keep your apologies. You know what, actually, keep everything away from me. Everything regarding you . I'm still here because my boss wanted me here anyway, ok? You're done playing with me and my feelings because I think I've been pretty fucking clear with my emotions since the very beginning and all you've done was play me all this time. Stop writing about me, stop talking to me and stop messing with my head. - I say, raising my voice.

He looks at me with a lustful look in his eyes, before crashing our lips together for a much needed rough kiss that we both know was overdue. His hands are on my face and mine are on his chest, allowing me to push him away at any given moment. But I don't because he pulls back pretty quickly. He looks me in the eyes, but I can't afford to look. I might slap him if I do.

-What the fuck… - I whisper, shaking my head slightly.

-I can't explain my feelings, Gwen. But I can explain my gestures. I didn't send you any feedback because the minute I read what you wrote, I started typing like a madman , finishing the book. I didn't send you the book because I was nervous . 

-You're confusing , that's what you are. No, actually. What are you telling Kathryn, Blake? She’s not stupid, don’t you think she’ll catch on? Or do you have no soul? What are you doing kissing me, you know very well I hate this, I hate you. - I say, touching my lips absently.

-I didn’t give her the book to read…

-So what, you're gonna keep hiding the book from her forever? What are you hoping is going to happen two years from now when that film is finally released? What about when your mystery book is coming out? Will you let her see the movie, read the book? As far as I’m concerned, that's when I’ll get to read it too. - I snap sassily, out of my mind with anger.

He looks down to the ground embarrassed, but after a second of thinking, he comes closer to me, speaking determined. 

-You already read the parts that I wrote, you already know how I feel about you. But sending you the finished product was too much for me. I'm sorry for the delay, but... here you have it. - he says, pulling out an actual book with covers and paper.

A wonderful cover picture welcomes my sight and an expensive feel to the touch when he gives it to me. I cool down, understanding that I’ve been a bit too quick to judge. 

-It's the first physical copy of the book and I want you to have it. I wanted to give you the real deal, but I was also scared to show it to you, so… I waited much too long… And I know that Kathryn will have to read the book and no, I don’t know what’s going to happen after that but…  I'm all out of excuses. I'm sorry… 

He says, leaving me alone in the room. I can't wait to start reading it, so I make myself comfortable on the chair beside me, touching my lips as I open the cover of the book. A handwritten note on the first page. 

 

'Dear Gwen,

I can't stress enough how much I wish we could've met again a few months earlier, but I strongly believe that I was meant to learn something from our story, so bear with me, please… I'm learning. 

This book is about the perfect, ideal, fairytale love story. Even though the plot didn’t go exactly as reality, I think it’s more than obvious who I wrote this story about. It’s my favorite story. A story that we've shared. 

I want this book to remind you of us just like that: ideal, bold, confident, intelligent and charming. I want this book to remind you of who I wish I could be for you. I want it to remind you of a hurricane. Big, loud, strong, sudden, frightening, damaging, dark, unsettled and natural. Because that's what you are to me, Gwen. You're a hurricane.

You're my favorite hurricane.

Blake.'

 

'My favorite hurricane', the title of the book. He couldn't have said it better. The only thing he left out of that metaphor is the fact that after every storm, the sun tends to come out. Well, in my world, the real world, the sun stays hidden, being too scared to face the aftermath of such a powerful storm. Without any more distractions, I finally flip the page, concentrating on the words. Here we go...

Chapter 5: Favorite Hurricane 1

Notes:

This is part 1/2 of Blake's book. I hope this won't be too confusing... Basically, Blake wrote his life's story through the eyes of a stranger named Camil. I hope this clears things out a bit. You will find passages from throughout the fic, but also a whole new story, a whole new plot that is not how it happened in "reality". I'll stop before I'll confuse you even more. Stay tuned for part 2!

I’ve been trying to write a new book for the longest time. But for some reason, nothing brings me inspiration anymore. Whenever I pick up my laptop to write, every single word I know tends to disappear from my memory, so at this point, I don’t even try anymore. But as I’m heading to the bank to figure out some issues, a sophisticated man catches my eye. He’s very interesting and by the way he stands at the banker’s counter, I’d say he’s most probably an important person with a bunch of money in his bank account. 

It’s people like him that I’ve always wanted to know about. I wish I could walk up to him and ask him a few questions about himself. His story, his job, his family, his hobbies… These people are very interesting to me. But why wouldn’t I ask him? After all, I think that any person loves to talk about themselves, so it’s worth the try. What’s the worst that can happen? He’ll flip me off and I’ll continue with my life like any other ordinary day. 

I walk up to him and I tell him to come to me after he’s done with his business because I wanted to ask him something. Intrigued, the stranger does as he’s told, a few minutes later. 

-My name is Camil and I’m a writer. I’ve been stuck without inspiration for quite some time now and I’m on the hunt for some interesting life stories. Would you be interested in sharing your story with me? - I ask, waiting for the man to answer.

-A fellow writer, huh? Believe me, I know exactly how you feel…

-You’re a writer?

-Something like that. Look, I’m in a bit of a hurry, but I’d love to talk sometime. What do you say we meet up sometime next week?

-Why don’t you just write your own story? We’ll meet up soon after I read it and we’ll make up a story together. What do you say? - I propose and he nods, shaking my hand.

I slip him a piece of paper with my email address and we exchange a brief goodbye before minding our own business.

I think I waited for his writing for weeks . But when I finally received the email, I couldn’t believe my eyes. This man wrote a whole book about his life. His words are so beautifully written that it’s actually ridiculous. Not to mention, his story is definitely book worthy. So, here we go.

Man’s POV

It all started with a letter . A letter that changed my life for good. A letter that destroyed and built our family all at once. A letter of heavy words. 

It all started with a simple man, like you and me .

He lost touch with his family when he went to work in the army, as required by the force. His line of work was extremely dangerous and they were obliged to stay away from any emotional attachment. But being a handsome, wealthy man always came with advantages. And disadvantages… He knocked up a girl, also catching feelings in the process, which could have cost him his job. He kept her a secret for the longest time, praying to God that his captain wouldn’t find out. Without this job, he wouldn’t be able to help his growing family in any way and that was terrifying for him. He wanted his baby girl to have the whole world. So, he kept them both a secret. Until a letter came into the picture.

‘Dear Richard, 

I know I might be putting you in jeopardy, but I come bearing devastating news. I’m afraid your parents passed away due to a terrible accident that occurred while driving home from the firm. The funeral will take place the day after tomorrow at noon at their favorite church. I am not asking anything from you, but I had to let you know. Your father left a testament behind and you are a big part of it. If your line of work allows it, I would love to talk to you about it. I’d say it’s rather urgent that you come back with an answer.

I am terribly sorry for your loss… 

Sincerely, 

Damon Hart, lawyer’

He barely got through the letter, knowing exactly what he had to do next. He resigned from his job, promising himself that he will no longer have to hide from the people that he loves. Upon arrival at the funeral, Damon Hart had revealed a piece of information that changed his life. His father left his whole company to him. Every penny, every legacy and every property were now in his hands to hold. 

He finally did what he had to do and welcomed his baby girl into a married family and a big house with the most loving and caring mother that he could ever want his girl to grow up with. And that girl is my sister, Endy. 

We grew up with this story of our grandparent’s death as a valuable lesson about life: never leave the ones you love. It can only end up in regret and regret is the scariest feeling. It’s the feeling that you have when you leave a hole in someone else’s heart, breaking your heart as well in the process. It’s the feeling of simultaneous heartbreak .

And so, the story I grew up with turned out to be a reality of my own in a way. You see, being raised in a rich household gave me unlimited possibilities and because of that, I never met the hardship of life. The biggest mistake a man can go through. Because once you’re all brought up in a world full of sunshine and rainbows, real life tends to clash into you the minute you escape your nest. And that’s exactly what happened to me.

I thought that just because I was passionate about singing and writing, I’ll actually be able to do that for a living and nail it and become successful without a problem, but you see, my truth is far from that. Once I moved out to Nashville to pursue my dream, I realized that I need money to pay rent and have food on my table and because I tend to be a bit stubborn, I refused to ask my parents for help. After all, they were completely against my career of choice and I wanted to prove them all wrong. So I did . 

After five years of roofing houses to be able to make rent, I finally could afford to work as a full-time song writer and actually survive. But it wasn’t easy. Those five years were the hardest I ever had to face. But this girl… She made it better. She made everything better.

I was convinced that she was the love of my life. We fit together perfectly and my love for her was the most intense feeling I had ever felt before. She didn’t care that I was poor, she didn’t care that I had my head in the clouds and a painful dream in my heart, she supported me through it. And once I made it, once I finally had enough money to buy her the ring that she deserved… 

‘I just have to know…’ - Miranda.

And that’s the note she left me. Four words that have messed up my whole existence in less than the two seconds that it took for me to read and understand it. The real irony here is that this note isn’t the thing that changed me for good… It was the letter that followed. 

‘Dear Mr. Shelton, 

I am incredibly sorry to inform you that a terrible tragedy has happened, which resulted in your father’s passing. I cannot even begin to understand what you are feeling right now, but I must let you know that there has been a written testament left behind and you happen to be the main part of it. I do not expect to hear from you too soon, but I would appreciate it if you reached out to me as soon as possible. We have a great amount of work to go through regarding this will. The funeral will take place the day after tomorrow.

Sincerely, 

Brendan Holt, lawyer.’

And that’s the letter that broke my broken pieces even more. That’s what put an end to me and my identity. That’s when the questions started.

Why did she leave me? Why did he leave me? Why is it all happening at the same time? What lesson am I supposed to take from this? What God would give me this much to carry all at once?

Not only was I hurt and disappointed in myself , but I was also unbelievably confused. I didn’t know what was happening to me and when I went back home to my mother… I couldn’t recognize her. The love of her life had disappeared for good and so did mine . We were both clueless, we didn’t know why. But we knew we had to stick together. 

The will that my father left behind provided a long list of instructions that included my new occupation: business man. I was officially named the new CEO of Smithworks Vodka, our family’s company that’s been passed on from generations, and even though I had no professional background, I was allowed to practice anyway. So, the next day after the funeral, I dressed up in the only suit I owned and I presented myself at the office, trying to get the hang of everything. Thankfully, Mike, my father’s right hand, was there to coach me through it all, so in a matter of three months, I was running the place like I was born to do it. And maybe I was .

Another thought that messed with my identity. 

Before receiving the reins of the company, I used to swear that I would never pursue that line of work, but the deeper I got into it, the better I started to like it. Hard work, but classy and respectable, unlimited hours, but also unlimited money . It was a lifestyle I was yet to get used to. 

But what about my dream? What about the thing that actually brings me happiness?

I kept doing it. I had written albums that were constantly battling for the first placement on every chart, not to mention that I was writing like crazy . Heartache, pain, misfortune and misery were just a few topics that I had exhausted and by that time, I managed to pick up all the pieces.

The only problem was that now , I didn’t know what to do with them. What sort of glue can be strong enough to put a broken heart back together? What will I have to do to find happiness again? 

Nashville was good to me. I learned everything there; how to work, how to laugh, how to pray… I learned how to live this life to the fullest and it’s something that my parents kept me from my whole childhood. I was far too protected, so when I went out into the real world all by myself, it was a culture shock. I didn’t even know how to turn on the stove . It was embarrassing, but it forced me to learn and deal with life. I’m grateful for that. 

I felt extremely guilty for running, but I came to the conclusion that there was no other way I’d have fulfilled my dream. My family was conservative and overprotective at times, they didn’t allow me to discover myself. But Nashville did. And while doing that, I realized I’m probably the only one who’s been kept in captivity for as long as I had. I realized that business isn’t the only profession and there is so much more stuff more important than money . Like love.

I met Miranda while performing in a bar. She was waiting at said bar and she took my breath away with a simple line said in irritation. I don’t know why her words enchanted me, I could just feel a connection, so I asked her out. She gave me two wonderful years of her life and as our careers grew together, she felt the need to move on, go higher and higher . For me, I found what I was good at and I had managed to live off of my art quite comfortably. She was probably scared of the fact that I wouldn’t want to move, so she left. She snuck out in the middle of the night, and her last words to me were written on a piece of paper strategically placed on the coffee table. 

‘I just have to know… - Miranda.’

I understood those words better than any other words existent in the English dictionary. I understood exactly what she needed to know. She had to know what her life would look like without me in it. She had to know what it was like to not have anyone weighing you down to a place. She needed flexibility and with me in her life she wouldn’t have achieved it. Or so she thought. 

This is what bothered me most. She didn’t even try to live her life with me. She didn’t even want to see how good we could have been. She just left and never said goodbye. Maybe because a goodbye would have resulted in her never leaving anymore, or maybe it would have resulted in an ugly fight, following up with a breakup anyway… I don’t know. 

All I know is that I had already bought her a ring. I wasn’t planning on proposing to her immediately , but the thought had been dancing around my head for a little while. One day, I walked past a jewelry store and the ring on display caught my eye. I bought it with her in mind, promising myself that one day, that ring will make me the happiest man on earth. 

I know what you’re all wondering. Do I still have it? Well, I did pay a whole ass kidney on it, so you bet your ass I still have it. Do I look at it from time to time whenever I miss the security of being in a relationship? Yes. But do I still think it’ll make me the happiest man alive? Also yes. Or at least I hope it will. 

Yes, I still have it and I plan on having it in my life forever , either in a box or on someone’s hand, this ring is going to be the witness of my life like a trusty partner. 

Miranda broke my heart in a million pieces, but a week after she vanished, that stupid email popped up in my inbox, making me aware of my own father’s death. I was so absorbed in my own personal vendetta that I didn’t even care to visit my parents from time to time, or at least call and check in on them… That will be my forever regret. I feel extremely sad and apologetic about it, but unfortunately, there’s nothing else left for me to do, other than make sure I am a part of my remaining family’s lives. 

The heartbreak I felt when I heard about my father was even worse than the one caused by Miranda. Because my father was a good father. He wasn’t the father that I needed , but he struggled to be the best dad he could be and I appreciated him for that. As for me , I wasn’t even a son to him for a few years, let alone a good son. I’m sad about it and I’ll forever be ashamed of myself because of it. 

I never had a father-son moment and it’s something that I needed and craved with all my being. That’s the reason I went on my trip. I needed my father-son adventure. 

And so, I left . I did the only thing I knew how and took a few weeks off the office duty, telling no one what was about to happen. In fact, I started tracing my father’s steps all throughout Europe. 

If you can believe it or not, my father was quite the writer as well and every now and then, he was able to write a letter to his family, but since he could only send one letter out, he preferred sending it to my mother. In every single one of these letters, he wrote the town he was in at that moment. Europe was under the communist regime and the secret services that he was involved in was a very dangerous territory for a young soldier with the will to come back to his growing family. 

And so, I traced his steps, starting with Berlin, Germany. My father was describing the Berlin Wall to my mother, saying that the end was never seen. Families were destroyed, hope was ruined and there was no sunshine. The words he uses leave a mark on my brain and actually seeing the remains of the wall in the middle of the city was shocking . Of course, for tourism reasons, there were speakers along the cement construction, describing its purpose, but while touching the rough surface, I imagined my father touched that exact spot, feeling a little bit closer to him. 

It might be absurd to think that this was possible, but I liked to believe it, it gave me comfort. I liked touching a part of his past. 

After a brief visit around Germany, seeing all the other places of the country that my father has worked in, I went back to Berlin, wanting to feel exactly what my father went through. Going from one country to another during communism was an almost impossible task, not to mention illegal and it could have cost you a life long in prison, at best. So, because the soldiers of the secret services had to work undercover, they needed a way to sneak past the guards and run out of the country. How did they do that? By freight trains.

They would sneak into the wagons and try their best to survive the whole ride to the destination and get out unseen. But of course, they weren’t the only ones trying out this technique, so the wagons were heavily guarded. With the right strategy and a great amount of luck, they arrived in Venice, Italy. 

So this is where the story actually starts.

I’ve always loved traveling. It’s something that I’ll always regret not doing earlier in life and more often. However, after everything I’ve been through in the last few years, I think this trip will do me a lot of good. I need to see the world in a different way. I need to rediscover myself. It’s been a while since I last enjoyed my own company, without the need for toxicity to replace the things I’ve lost. 

Europeans are curious people; at times, they seem contagiously nice and warm and inviting, but they can also be stone cold as if knowing that you don’t belong. I’ve spent this whole trip so far trying to figure out the interesting people I’ve had the pleasure to see, but I never had the courage to walk up to them and talk to them. It seemed… illegal.  

My thoughts get the best of me and if it weren’t for the lady on the speakers announcing the embarking of my train from Berlin to Venice, I’d still be thinking about everything and nothing , all at once. I grab my luggage and I hop on the fancy train, being shown to my sleep cabin by an employee.

The train I got on is new and very luxurious. It has multiple wagons, each of which is differently arranged. There’s the sleeping wagon, the diner wagon and the living wagon, all of which are included in my ticket. I stay wherever I please and that’s something that I have a lot of gratitude for. And because I don’t really feel like sleeping, I store my luggage carefully so that it won’t bother whoever will be sleeping in the same cabin as me, carrying my valuable belongings with me at all times. I head over to the living wagon, getting comfortably seated near the window. I take out my book and I enter the wonderful world of fiction, beautifully written by one of my favorite authors. 

I don’t know how much time I spend in this world of words, but the beautiful scenery in front of me is stealing my thoughts quickly and recklessly. We’re currently passing over a river and the world has never looked this beautiful. Then, unexpectedly, a tall, skinny, ravishing blonde steals my sight. After an intense eye contact, she decides to sit in front of me, our bodies being separated by the small table in between us. I shut my book, concentrating on the mysterious girl. 

-You didn’t have to do that, I don’t mean to interrupt you. - she says, with an American accent.

Her clothing is stylish and fancy. She’s wearing a beautiful midi dress, extremely classy, but it also looks comfortable. Her hair is loose on her shoulders, a wonderful platinum color, her nails are long and perfectly manicured, her make-up is light and effortless. She is extremely sophisticated and that is fascinating to me. Why would she sit next to me?

-I wasn’t paying attention to the book anyway. The scenery is more captivating. - I reply, never breaking eye contact with her.

-Germany is truly a wonder, isn’t it? - she says, looking out the window briefly, immediately returning her gaze to me.

-What’s your name? - I decide to avoid her rhetorical question with an interrogation of my own.

-Why do you want to know? - she plays along.

-I think names say a lot about people. Your family, your background… If you don’t give me your name, I’ll have no other option than to assume that you’re ashamed of it. - I challenge her.

-I have many feelings regarding my name, but shame isn’t one of them. 

- Hm… - I hum, trying my best not to pull out my journal, writing every thing she’s telling me word by word.

-I’m good at reading people even without knowing their name, I don’t think it’s necessarily a reflection of who they are. For instance, you must be a business man of sorts, but you’re not here on business, otherwise you’d have chosen another way of transport, something faster , more formal. You’ve got a nice designer’s tag on your collar, a clean fresh shave and a new haircut… You take care of yourself, you like looking put together, even while you’re traveling. Your leather cowboy boots and country accent lead me to believe you’re from Southern US, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas… You travel alone, so maybe you’re trying to spend time by yourself, to find yourself, or you’re just a… lone wolf. - she finishes reading me and I grin seducingly.

- Congratulations . - I simply say, piercing the inside of her mind with my gaze. 

-Thank you. It’s your turn now.

-You want me to read you? - I ask, a bit surprised by her request.

-I do. I would love to hear what you have to say.

-I must warn you though, I’m pretty good at reading people, with or without their name.

-Let me be the judge of that. - she answers sassily, catching even more of my attention.

-You’re very sophisticated, but recklessly bold. You’re either a very powerful woman who understands the effect she has on other people, or you’re extremely narcissistic. - she laughs; the most lively sound I’ve ever heard - You love taking care of yourself and you’re aware of the fact you are being watched by people continuously. You’re courageous enough to sit next to a complete stranger on a train to Venice, which tells me that you love the thrill of life, making you get bored of everything very quickly, so I’ll consider myself lucky that I managed to capture your attention for as long as I have.

She smiles, flattered by my reading, biting her lip as I notice her cheeks turning slightly rosier. 

-How did I do? - I ask, regaining her eye contact.

-Very well. I’m impressed. - she patronizes me, but I don’t mind it, I’m intrigued by it.

-If I’ve managed to impress you, it must mean I’m very good at meeting strangers; I never knew that about myself… - I say, winning the upper hand.

-You’re welcome then. - she smiles charmingly, somehow regaining her sass. 

There’s a few seconds of silence, a moment when neither of us dares to take their eyes off of the other.

-Ask me to dinner. - she demands softly and suddenly. 

-I won’t. Someone once told me that women don’t like questions, so I won’t ask you that. - I pause a moment - I’d love it if you joined me for dinner. 

I keep my tone steady, firm, yet inviting and warm. She is surprised again, a bit taken aback by my response but nonetheless, my answer was the right one. She raises her brow curiously as I put my book away in my laptop bag, standing up. I offer her my hand which she accepts immediately. 

The actual physical contact with my stranger feels long overdue, even though we’ve only known each other for a few minutes. It feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life to do this. I let go of her delicate hand, leading her towards the next wagon. She’s fragile and sweet, but she’s got a lot of confidence in herself. I doubt she’s like that on the interior though. I imagine her being a strong, respectable woman, but also soft, kind and vulnerable, at times maybe even a bit goofy .

We sit together at a table, facing each other, as a waitress assists us immediately. There are very few people in the wagon, probably because it’s a little late to have dinner, but yet again, the gorgeous girl read me correctly. I am starving. 

-Enough guessing. You already said you won’t tell me your name, so tell me something else. What brings you to Venice? - I provoke her, as soon as we’ve finished ordering. 

-I’m visiting a friend. I’m a designer and last week was Paris fashion week for me. I decided to stick around a bit.

-A designer… You must have a very difficult professional life, living among artists.

-It’s challenging, but I wouldn’t call it difficult. Perhaps entertaining is a better word for it. I never get bored, that’s for sure. - she smiles, looking down to her lap. - What about you? 

-I’m here to rediscover myself, just as you suspected. I’m just a tourist these next few weeks. I’ve had a difficult time for a while and I needed to clear my head.

-I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been struggling. Traveling is the best way to clear your head. Especially Europe.

-I definitely needed this. - I confess, seeking out the faintest traces of light left outside the window. 

-What do you do for a living? 

-I’m a writer. - my response shocks her.

-I did not expect that! - she says, raising her brows curiously. 

-I’m happy I can still surprise you. - I smirk, playing with my glass of wine in front of me - I took over my family’s business, that’s where my steady income is from, but I don’t like leading with that. I don’t think it defines me.

-Hm. I appreciate a man who knows what he wants. Most people with a steady, wealthy job would have quit on their dreams.

-Not me, I’ve always been interested in this… creative… side of the world. 

-And what do you write?

- Music . I write about whatever goes through my head; portraits, feelings, people, buildings… Usually by the end of the month I have an idea in my mind, I compile everything I wrote  and then I put it into lyrics. It’s a much larger process and it involves multiple people, but that’s how I get it done.

-You’re a song writer?

-Yes, I am. It started out as a joke, but it turns out some people love my writing so much that they refuse to give me a break. I’m trying to change that though, I want to write a book.

- Wow… A cowboy who took over the family business, but is too busy writing songs to follow his dream… I would never have guessed that, stranger.

-When you put it like that , I really do sound like a hell of an interesting person.

-What would you put it like?

-A cowboy who’s trying to fit into this life, but is terribly distracted by all these talents… - I flatter myself sarcastically, making her laugh again, this time, lowering her walls even more. 

-And your book, what have you written about so far?

-Oh, not much. I was hoping this trip would give me a little inspiration, but honestly I’ve been so focused on myself that I don’t know about a book anymore.

-Why not write about yourself? I’m always up for a biography, I think you’d be an interesting person to read about…

-Oh, thank you. Maybe once I get to know myself a bit better, I might actually do that, but for now, I’m still as lost.

-Am I going too far if I ask you about what happened?

-I’ll tell you, but not right now. Tell me more about you. - I demand softly, noticing that she gets a bit uncomfortable speaking about her.

For a confident woman like her, it’s hard to believe she’s finding it difficult to talk about herself. After all, being a confident person means feeling really good in your own skin, loving yourself at some level. She’s mysterious indeed.

Her teeth capture her bottom lip slightly, making me crave that movement more than any other. She’s trying to find the right words, the right subject and finally, when she settles, she doesn’t disappoint.

-This friend I’m visiting is someone I haven’t spoken to for a really long time. He was… my nemesis. He was the only person I never quite understood. I was never able to read him.

-Is he an ex?

-It’s complicated. We were never together officially , but we were involved. It all resumed to a very bad argument which ended in him moving across the globe. I want to make things right.

-I’ll make the bold move to assume that you’re in love with him.

-It’s true. I tried to forget about him, but I wasn’t fair when we parted ways. I was a coward and I was unfair. I don’t want him “back” as much as I want to apologize to him. It’s my biggest regret that I didn’t share my feelings with him.

-Whoever this man is, I hope everything will turn out just the way you would like for it to.

-Thank you. - she smiles softly, offering me her sweetest tone. - Is there a special woman in your life?

-There used to be…

-What happened?

It’s one of those moments I wish for a bubble to be wrapped around me, keeping me safe from all the thoughts and all the darkness that is being shot towards me. I make up my courage and I reply to the stranger in front of me.

-She left me. She ripped my heart out and took it with her somewhere… I just woke up one day with all of her stuff gone, a note on the table. 

-Women don’t just leave like that. - she says, insinuating that something must have happened for her to bail like that.

- This one did. She was… unordinary . She is just as lost as me when it comes to knowing yourself; she had to discover who she was. Maybe it’s better this way, I don’t even know. The only thing I’m certain of is the fact that I loved her so much that I’m still putting back all the pieces of my heart.

-It sounds like one of those love stories that anyone would die for. - she says, pondering her words.

She falls into deep thought, so I refrain from pulling her out of that state of mind. I let her daydream for a minute, staring at her, fascinated . She’s more beautiful than I ever imagined any woman could be. Her body is perfect, her face unbelievably delicate and her voice… angelic . Despite her being a designer, she’s extremely classy. I should know, I work with artists all day long. They’re extravagant and bulky. They’re misunderstood and messy and crazy.

Not her.

She’s probably the most balanced woman I’ll ever have the pleasure to meet. 

-It was one of those love stories that was thought-provoking and deep… Almost like a very bad comedy. - she laughs at the silly comparison, having not expected the sarcastic joke during such a deep conversation. - It was one of those love stories that usually leaves you bawling at the last page.

-I don’t understand how someone could walk away from you with ease. I imagine wherever she is now, she must be hurting just as much as you are.

-I could say the same about you, stranger . - I reciprocate the kind words, making her blush again.

And that’s what happens. We manage to keep our subjects of discussion light and breezy afterwards. We talk about people that we’ve worked with, places we’ve visited and different aspects of the food we’ve tasted without mentioning another word directly about our private personal lives. We talk for hours on end and by our third glass of wine, we realize we should probably go to sleep.

-It’s been a pleasure meeting you, stranger. - she says, threatening to leave.

- Wait . - I say, touching her hand for the second time this evening. - We’ve played this game for hours now. Tell me your name. - it’s a simple request, but she won’t comply.

-I don’t want to. I really like you and I had a great time with you tonight. 

-So then why won’t you tell me your name?

-Because I want to let fate decide if there should ever be something more between us. If we’re meant to be more than just strangers on a train, we’ll meet again.

-Alright then. - I agree to the crazy plan - Thank you for keeping me company, stranger. I’ll be writing about you.

-You’re welcome for the inspiration. - she smirks, finally standing up.

-Let me lead you to your cabin and I promise, I’ll be out of your way. - I can’t let her go yet.

She nods, making me follow suit behind her. She is mesmerizing to me.

The cabin she stops at has a number on the door that seems familiar. In somewhat of a panic, I check my train ticket again and she notices my actions. I look at her a bit unsettled, but mostly shocked.

-It seems like fate doesn’t want us to part just yet. - I say, making her understand my reaction.

-It sure seems that way. - she agrees, smiling seducingly as she leads us both into the cabin.

There’s enough space for the both of us to stand in the little room without it being awkward, or inappropriate, but under these circumstances, being with her in any room, no matter how little or how big, could be a sign of great danger. 

She takes me by surprise the minute she turns around, facing me. She’s way too close to not have a wild scenario playing through my mind, so when she gets even closer, my heart starts racing quickly inside my chest.

-I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. - I speak softly, not being afraid to hold her angelic face with one of my hands.

She leans into my cupping hand, closing her eyes for a long second, then meeting my eyes with hers. 

- You and regret won’t ever go in the same sentence, I assure you. I guess I’m happy that this story isn’t over yet, but I’m also sad that I received more time with you. We still have around nine hours together, what if you actually get me to feel even more around you? Now I’ll actually have to watch us go our separate ways.

Both of my hands are now gently cupping her face. She’s so delicate I’m afraid not to break her porcelain skin, so I lower my hands, still not ready to let her go. I lace my arms around her fragile body, keeping them respectfully around her waist.

-Let’s not continue with the end. One chapter at a time. - I say, gaining a shy smile that I’ll cherish forever.

Her hands follow the path of my arms up my chest, resting on the collar of the shirt I have on, underneath the thin blue sweater wrapped around my torso. Her hands make chills run up and down my whole body, our eyes never daring to change courses. 

-Don’t let me fall in love with you. - she says, eventually touching my scruff.

Her words shot through me like thunder, enlightening my whole body with clarity. She’s a stranger. I don’t even know her name . Yet here I am, unable to keep myself from falling in love with her.

-I can’t do that, I’m sorry. I think we went too far. - I say, wanting to loosen up my hold on her waist, but I’m physically incapable of letting go of such beauty. 

-Yes, but I don’t regret it.

-How can you not? You’re about to visit the man that you love. The one who’s been overwhelming your heart for so long…

-Well I think I found the cure. 

-Please don’t do this to me. Don’t make me love you, just so you can leave us in destiny’s hand…

She looks down, understanding that she’s making a mistake.

- I’m sorry. - she apologizes and I hate the sound of it. 

I lift her chin, forcing her to look at me again. Once she complies, I make the statement move of this evening. The most passionate kiss I’ve ever shared, the most perfect moment I’ve ever lived and the most precious woman I’ve ever met, all compiled into a memory that will most probably haunt me for years to come.

The kiss is long overdue, which makes it a bit desperate at first, but at the touch of her lips, my whole body warms up, softening the kiss. I pull back, but her eyes are still closed. I unite our foreheads together, cupping her face with both of my hands. 

-Hold me tonight. We might never see each other again, at least let us have this night completely . 

I nod, knowing that I could never say no to her. We pull back from each other and we lean down to our luggage, feeling the need to change our clothes. I take my stuff, going to the bathroom to change, wanting her to take her time getting ready for bed. I wander around the hallway for a few minutes as well, before slowly opening the door to our cabin. Her beautiful body, wrapped in the most elegant satin pajama, her hair loose on her shoulders and no more make-up on her face. Pure perfection.

I lock the door behind me, sitting down on my side of the room. I put my things in order before laying flat inside the bed cover, getting cozy. She lifts the cover, laying down next to me. I’m spooning her, placing my hand carefully around her waist and her dreamy smell lulls me straight to sleep. This night is as magical as nights can get.

The following morning greets me with a pair of sweet, doe eyes, glistening brighter than the sun. The cabin is still dark, due to the curtains hanging on the window, but the magnificent stranger in my arms is glowing enough for me to see her perfectly . I imagine waking up everyday to this sight and the dreaming continues.

-I had the most gorgeous sleep in your arms, stranger. - she confesses.

-I wish I never had to let you go. - this is probably the only sentence I’ve ever meant 100%.

-Unfortunately, we have to part ways in less than thirty minutes. 

After saying those words, she releases her soft hold on me, wanting to stand up and take my heart away with her. I let her go, knowing that holding onto her would only bring me even more pain eventually. So, I stand up too. I change into my casual clothes while she’s in the bathroom of the train and I try to somewhat anticipate her next words. What will she say? What challenge will she give me next? As I ponder my thoughts, she comes back from the bathroom, leaving me no time to plan anything.

She’s wearing another dress, this time, something more casual. It’s a knit dress, fitting her body like a glove, showing off her forms. 

She looks at me a bit frightened, sad , but once she slowly gets closer to me, I get her message. I kiss her passionately, memorizing the feel of her lips against mine. I leave an imprint of her body pressed against mine somewhere in the back of my head, as my hands caress every inch of her back. With her arms wrapped around my neck, she pulls back from the kiss, staring into my eyes.

-I wish I’d met you in another life. - she says, sighing regretfully.

-What’s wrong with this life? - I ask, confused.

- This life is too cruel for something so beautiful and pure.

-You made me fall in love with you, stranger. There’s nothing more cruel than that. 

She smiles seducingly, pursing her lips, embarrassed. With one last look into my eyes, she’s out of my embrace and once and for all, out of my life . I watch her walk away with her luggage in one hand and a sad nuance in her eyes, going off to continue her journey, whatever that may be. 

I’m left all alone in the Italian train station, my heart stolen and my thoughts unsettled. I’m back to square one regarding my identity, but one thing is for sure. I want that man who met a stranger on the train to be my forever identity. Mysterious, charming, effortless… I liked him. Maybe just because she liked him first.

My mind is heavy with the memories of the mysterious woman and because I have a mission to fulfill, I decide to let out my thoughts, by writing her letters. I can’t afford to be distracted by such a presence, otherwise, this whole journey would be in vain. My dad used to send my mom letters all the time and I’m more than conscious of the fact that she most probably will never read them, but I think I would feel more at peace if I got to write all of my feelings down, pretending that she reads every single word, even the ones that aren’t written.

‘Dear stranger,

I cannot even begin to describe how much I needed to meet you. You have shown me a side of myself I never knew existed. I never told you about my journey through Europe, but maybe I can start now. 

It’s been a lonely time, even though Europeans have proved to be quite inviting and kind. It wasn’t meant to be a fun traveling experience to find inspiration, it was actually supposed to help me get closer with my dad. You see, right after I left my home to pursue my dream, my father and I got into an ugly fight which resulted in me running away. The last time I saw him was at his funeral and because of that, I will never allow myself to lose touch with the people that matter to me. I was young and selfish and impulsive. Maybe this is not the best impression of myself, but I am of the opinion that when you love a person, you love everything about them; the good and the bad. Well, can you still look at me with the same pair of eyes now that you know my secret? Can you love me if all I am is bad?

I want to know what you’ve been up to. As for myself, I’ve been thinking about you every single second of every single day and I can’t say it hasn’t been fun. I just wish I got one more day with you. After one more day I bet I could have made you stay. I could’ve convinced you that we were worthy. 

I will not stop writing letters for you until the day you get to read them. Call me a crazy stranger, but remember that I am your crazy stranger. 

Love, me.’

I shut my laptop, convinced I’m done writing, but the minute the top collides with the keypad, I feel another wave of inspiration hit me.

‘Dear stranger, 

I miss you. I miss you a lot. I don’t know if it’s your presence that I miss, or the way I felt when I was around you, but I crave it. Whatever it is, I crave it. 

Why did you leave us in the hands of fate? Why did you run from me, why did you run to him? One day we’ll meet again and the minute that we do, I promise you, I will not let you go. I’ll haunt you just the way you haunt me until you decide it’s not worth fighting. I’m not worth resisting, quite the opposite actually. I’m someone you can’t have enough of, the picture you painted of me is, anyway… I wish you stayed. 

But I’m supposed to move on with my life, right? How do I do that? Have you left me a manual, or maybe a step-by-step list? I’m all on my own with feelings I don’t know how to manage and I could use your help. I’ve been in Venice now for four days and I’m still wandering around the city hoping I’d bump into you. You might not care, but I’ll share an update with you. I managed to find actual proof that my dad came here on duty, just like he said he did in his letters. I went by a historical archive, where I asked around and the only English-understanding person there came back with a sealed box with his name on it. In the box there was an old gun, some rusty bullets and his soldier cap. I teared up at the sight and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I finally found something linking this trip to him directly and I’ve decided to keep all these objects in the honor of my dad. I don’t know how I’d be able to sneak in an old army gun by the airport, so I decide to ship it over to America as soon as possible. 

You might not be excited by a gun, a few rusty bullets and a cap, but for me, it’s like finally forgiving myself for all the time I wasn’t there. I know, it’s stupid. Just because I found these old things doesn’t make it ok that I grew apart from them, but I have to move on somehow. Am I crazy?

Probably. After all, I’m talking to my own imagination of your beautiful self. I’m not crazy, I’m just in love…

P.S. I’m looking at the stars every night, wondering if you’re looking up as well.

Love, me.’

End of Man’s POV

Can you believe it? This story is too good to be true. A man and a woman, spending a miraculous train ride together, falling in love in a matter of minutes, just to end up leaving their whole life in the hands of fate. I don’t know whether to call them fools or geniuses, but this story needs a happy ending, otherwise, I might just never write again. 

And so, I ask my writer to meet me for a coffee. He agrees, meeting me at the promised location. We go through the whole event all over again and he allows me to use the whole thing for the book. The only problem is that now , I need to know how the story ends but my muse is just as clueless as I am. It turns out that he is still waiting for his stranger to appear. 

And that gives me an idea. What if I approach a different person for the rest of the story? A woman, for example. Maybe she won’t have such an interesting life story, but after all, we all have our own book we’re writing, right? 

So, the searching starts in the local park in the center of the town. I walk around aimlessly, observing my surroundings and I pretty much stare at every single woman on the street like a creep. However, a blonde catches my eye. She’s extremely sophisticated and aristocrate. Her outfit is elegant, her walk is graceful and her posture is impeccable. So… What is she doing buying coffee from a stand in the park?

I approach her intrigued and once she sees me, she gives me a confused look.

-I’m so sorry to bother you, miss… You see, I’m a writer and I’ve been trying to get my inspiration by using people’s life stories. Would you be interested in sharing?

-No, I’m afraid not. - a bold response.

-Please, I beg you. 

-Let me get this straight. You want me to share my story with a stranger who approached me on the street pretending to be a writer . Do you hear how insane it sounds? - a smart, quick reply.

She seems familiar…

-I’m not scamming you, miss. Here. This is my email and my name. Google me. I’m the real deal, I’m just desperate for some inspiration. 

-Sir, I’m not interested, sorry. - she says, leaving me all alone.

Chapter 6: Favourite Hurricane 2

Notes:

This is the rest of Blake's book! We're going back to our 'real-life' story soon! I hope you like the book.

I waited for the sophisticated woman at that coffee shop every single day for a week. Right when I was about to give up, she appeared again. This time, I’m determined not to let her go until she gives me what I want. I even brought one of my works to show her. I’m determined to make her believe me.

-You again?! - she asks, not too happy to see me.

-I promise you I’ve been here every single day waiting for you, this is how desperate I am… - I say.

-Oh my God… You’re pathetic… - she laughs, letting me in just a little bit.

-I really want to know your story, miss. I don’t want to know anything too personal, I just need your story. If you decide you don’t want to share anything, then I’ll back out, but you see… I already asked someone for their story and they gave it to me, but it’s not enough. I need more inspiration.

-It sounds like you’re pretty terrible at this, are you sure you should be a writer without all this inspiration? - her clever lines never cease to amaze me.

I chuckle, handing her the same paper with my email and name on it. 

-Write something good. - I say, leaving her to her errands. 

What do you say? A month of waiting later and I’ve got myself a book. 

And what a book… 

 

Woman’s POV

 

I’ve never considered myself a writer. Anything; a designer, a dreamer, a fighter, an artist; but never a writer. Yet here I am, associating words, creating sentences and arranging them into chapters. That’s all a writer does, right? No. A writer is someone who makes you feel their character’s emotions stronger than you’ve ever felt any feeling. A writer is someone who marks you with their words and they find a special place in your heart and can’t seem to find a way out. Ever. 

That’s what I want to accomplish, so… bear with me. 

I was told to write my story, so here I go. 

It all starts with a big family from Orange County. I was raised in a very traditional and christian household which led to a huge community of people who were inclined to doing good. So, when real life came upon me during college, it was a complete culture shock. My parents are the best people I know, but growing up, they were extremely conservative and they insisted that I followed a more realistic path than art, which is what I originally wanted. And I did. I went to law school and graduated, worked in an office for a little while, but that life wasn’t satisfying to me at all. However, during college I met this girl who enchanted me with her presence. Siri was my first and only roommate I’ve ever had. Since I wasn’t passionate about law, she was the one who helped me pass all my exams and she was the one who encouraged me to put money aside so I could go to art school and follow my dream. After graduating my second university, my career skyrocketed so much that I ended up being one of the most known designers in all America within months. 

My new career brought me a lot of joy and even though Siri and I moved on with our lives, we stayed friends all this time. She’s now married and thriving, getting adjusted to her new life as a mother, while I discovered my voice and vocation. Thanks to her, I was able to find myself and throughout this process, I met a lot of people who made an impact in my life. In terms of boyfriends, I can’t say I was madly in love with anyone so far and though I’m only twenty seven and I’m aware that I still have time, the thought of finding myself a forever person is a bit pressing.

My first ever love was Tony and you never forget your first. He was the one who taught me patience and humility. Then, there was John who taught me about heartache and humiliation. But Gavin… He was the one who kept me on my toes…

He was a photographer that I often worked with and we quickly became friends, as we had the same interests. He was handsome and interesting, I was never able to keep up with him and for a person who gets bored of things easily, he was a wonder. 

Our friendship got stronger and stronger and there was a certain chemistry between us so that one drunken night, we decided to change our status from close friends to friends with benefits. It was an experience that I hadn’t had before and I enjoyed it for a little time. That is until I figured out I’m not the type of girl to sleep around and not catch feelings. 

That was my first encounter with love. But he didn’t see it. Maybe he didn’t want to see it, maybe he didn’t care to see it, but I suffered a lot because of that. Of course, had I not been a complete coward, things would be different now, but it was unknown territory for me and my fright of rejection was strong. He started seeing someone so, obviously, I started acting really weird around him and when he kept reaching to me for pleasure, he really confused me.

We got into an argument that ended in him moving across the world with the opportunity of a job in Berlin, Germany. I suffered a lot after his departure. I had never experienced such a weird loss. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I wasn’t able to articulate any words of love around him for some reason.

I hated myself for it. I couldn’t believe that I was that big of a coward. I rathered letting him leave then telling him how I felt. I somehow convinced myself that if he felt the way I did, he wouldn’t have left me. All I know is that I lived with that burden in my heart for two years before deciding to do something about it.

I was in France for Paris fashion week and the thought of just flying to Berlin was too tempting not to pursue. I bought the tickets and in a matter of hours, I was on my way to Berlin to tell Gavin about how I felt. 

I went to the company that hired him and asked around for him. They told me that he had been transferred to another branch all the way in Italy and this girl tossed me an address, saying that I should find him there. Since there were no available planes to Venice, I had to settle on the rapid train. 

I can’t tell you how many feelings were overwhelming my heart. The idea of finally meeting him, finally telling him how I felt… It was surreal. All I could do was think about what I would say to him. 

I’d tell him that I missed him, I’d tell him that I thought about him all that time and that I needed to have him in my life in any form. It didn’t matter. 

Because the minute I stepped onto that train, I found a person who caught my eye pretty quickly and who promised me a forever of sorts with a simple look out the window. A very elegant, sophisticated gentleman was reading a book by the window. His outfit was expensive, but his cowboy boots were very out of the ordinary. He was reading a crime novel and his eyes would briefly scan the scenery out the window. After a few seconds of watching him intrigued, I listened to my gut and I decided to make a bold move, sitting in front of him.

 

***A familiar story, isn’t it? I never thought that by approaching two interesting people on the street, I’d get to witness such an elaborate love story. I won’t bore you with the story you already know, so instead, I’ll let you know this:

 

I fell in love with him. He was the cure for my unfinished business with Gavin and as weird as that sounds, I finally learned what true love meant. Feeling butterflies for a person and not knowing why. Repeatedly.

 

Who knew that destiny would play so dirty with people’s feelings? And who would have thought that I would ever get the chance to be Cupid for a little while?That’s all I’ll say: this is the greatest book I’ve ever written.***

 

Parting from my mystery man was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I had to watch yet another man that I loved leave me without having the chance to tell him exactly what I felt. I suddenly couldn’t concentrate on my mission, the thoughts of him invading every inch of my personal space, not to mention that my poor heart was struggling to beat every time I thought about his blue, hypnotizing eyes. 

In order to get my thoughts straight, I decided to write him everything I felt. I knew that externalizing my feelings would bring me peace, so I started writing, as if he could read every single detail of the memories of him imprinted on my mind. 

 

‘Dear stranger,

I’m writing to let you know that you’ve marked me. You’ve stolen my heart and mind and I do not appreciate the gesture. How am I supposed to face my friend after such an encounter? How am I supposed to get over you? How am I supposed to wait for destiny to do its job?

I know it was my idea, but I just wish you had said no. I wish you would have made love to me on that train, without caring about ethics and consequences and just indulged into your desires. I wish you were selfish.

Or maybe I love that you’re not. I don’t know. I don’t know how to read my feelings anymore.

You’ve broken me. But you’ve also repaired me.

I hate you and love you at the same time.

Love, your stranger.’

 

My heart is at peace this way. I “told” him what was burdening my soul, so now I can move on with my mission. 

I approach the given address with nerves and fear. I knock on the door and a woman opens up, looking at me confused and even a bit scared. 

-Si? - she asks, wanting to know what my deal was.

-Do you speak English? - I try and she changes her demeanor, relaxing just a little bit.

-Yes, who are you? - she says, her strong accent lighting up the mood a bit.

-I’m looking for a man… I was given this address… Here, let me show you a photo. 

I whip out a picture of him on my phone and after a few seconds.

-No, scusate… - she says, dismissing me pretty quickly.

So, getting a little discouraged, I take a cab to his supposed workplace where they don’t tell me anything because of “privacy reasons”, no matter how much I bribe them, so I go to the very last resource. I call his mother. 

Hearing about his death was something that I never thought I ever had to hear. His mother broke down talking to me, but I was too shocked to cry. I was too shocked to do anything but sit in a corner in silence. Even that was too painful to accomplish, but luckily, I could spend the night in Venice and fly back home to take in everything in peace.

 

‘Dear stranger, 

My heart is heavy with all the bad emotions a person can feel: sadness, misery, doubt, regret, shame, stupidity, anger, fear etc.

I wish you were here. I wish I had your strong arms wrapped around me and your rough voice encouraging me through these hard times. He died, stranger… He died and I didn’t get the chance to tell him I loved him. But you know what? I’m not going to waste a minute telling you I love you because time is passing by and I won’t risk that with you.

I love you. I have loved you the minute you opened your mouth and even if you don’t feel the same, I still love you. A part of me will always wish we never parted. Even though it would have saved me a lot of heartache, I would have never been able to give myself to you completely. Some of me would still be clinging onto Gavin. Maybe it still is, maybe it’ll never stop. Either way, I had to know the truth, even if it hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced.

I lost him twice. Both times happened before I could share my feelings with him, so I will make sure that that never happens with you, stranger. If our destinies cross paths again, I won’t let you go before speaking my mind out. I promise. 

I can’t lose you too.

Love, your stranger.’

 

The next few months after returning home, I was numb. My whole body was aching with regret and the only way I got through it was by convincing myself that that was what had to happen. If I didn’t tell him how I felt, then it meant that I shouldn’t have told him. It meant that I had to let him go. I don’t know why, but my religion taught me better than to question God’s mysterious ways, so I don’t. 

The only thing I’m questioning is whether or not my stranger still thinks about me. I sure am still thinking about him. I miss him. I miss that strong woman who met him, who made up the courage to walk up to him and follow her heart. I’m jealous of that woman.

He probably thinks it’s who I am all the time, but if only he knew how different I am when he’s not with me. He gives me power, inspiration. He makes me want to be mysterious and seductive. He makes me the woman I’ve always wanted to be. The woman I’ve always strived to become. 

I miss him. I miss his eyes, I miss his voice and I miss his mind. His mind fascinated me. Not only did he keep up with me and my messy mind, but we were so in tune that it was a little bit scary. We were almost too perfect together. It’s like we were made for each other. 

I had to let us in the hands of faith. I had to continue my journey alone and sort through my thoughts without him. Whether or not we’ll meet again remains a mystery, but for now, I live with a memory of meeting the man of my dreams. It’s not enough, nothing will ever be enough unless it’s him, but for now, I manage to live with only the memory of him.  

 

End of Woman’s POV

 

And so, dear writers, you will be able to witness the most wonderful love story unfold right before your eyes. I can only send so much emotion through my writing, but the fact that I have managed to meet these two random people on the street, linking these connections in between them… It feels surreal. I never knew what fate looked like, but I never would have thought that it had my face. I play the part of fate in their story and I’m more than willing and eager to play this part ‘till the very end. 

And so, I decide to send an email to my male character, feeling the need to share my new-found discovery. However, I need to be extremely careful with how I uncover the information. I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I ruined something so wonderful, pure and unique. So, he finally gets back to me and we meet up for coffee.

-I’m really glad you responded, I knew that making people write their story would be a difficult job but you actually kept your promise. Your writing is incredible… I won’t change a thing from your part, I feel like you should get like half the credit - I tell him and he smiles.

-I wrote my actual story, but I won’t give you my name, if that’s where you’re going.

-I don’t even want your name, mr. I’m actually meeting you here for another reason. 

-Really? What would that be?

-I loved your story, but I needed more. I still couldn’t find my inspiration and I needed a happy ending for your character.

-It seems to me like you’re a pretty terrible author, I literally gave you a whole script… - he jokes a joke I’ve heard before and I smile knowingly, reaffirming that I have to divulge the secret.

-You might be right, but you see… Something told me that the story didn’t end there. So I went looking for another person, more precisely, a woman. All I’ll say is that I think you should buy your coffee from a different place from now on…

-What are you talking about? - he asks, confused.

-Please. I have an address that I want you to go to every day at noon. One week. Do this for one week and one of those days you will understand why I’m telling you this.

-Yeah, it sounds like you’re setting me up big time, so…

-It’s in front of a huge fashion firm out here in LA. - I say and his eyes grow in size considerably.

I slip him the piece of paper with the address and I leave, not saying another word.

Now, I wasn’t there for it, but I imagine it went something like this…

 

“That damned writer… I can’t believe I’m standing here like an idiot, looking at people standing in line and drinking coffee. I bought myself a cup, observing my surroundings and as expected, nothing happened. And I’m the moron because I’ve been doing this for three days consecutively. I get lost in thought and I throw away the carton cup, with the intention of leaving. And when I turn around, I see a beautiful, tall, mysterious girl. My mysterious girl. She’s staring at me like I’m a house on fire and I reciprocate the look, no thoughts in my mind. I rush to her, she rushes to me and like a movie scene, we kiss each other with so much thirst and desire that it’s a little scary. It’s scary how much I missed her.”

 

One thing is for sure though; I went to that coffee truck for multiple days in a row just to see if I ever saw them again and I was pleasantly surprised to see them holding hands, buying coffee together. This is the best love story in my whole life as a writer. I can’t explain to you how fortunate I’ve been to bump into these people who have weirdly shared their real stories with me. It’s been a true experience in every sense of the word.

I stood away from them every time I went by the coffee truck, but one time, the man saw me and waved, smiling. I waved right back, not wanting to interrupt them with a conversation. They most probably talked about me and my match-making skills, but I never had the courage to walk up to them again. I just stood away. 

Until today.

They found me. They sent a bouquet of flowers and… a letter.

 

‘Dear Fate,

We can’t thank you enough. We don’t know how you did it, but you’ve helped us find each other and we just cannot explain to you how much it means to us. We can’t wait to read about it, as we both agree that only a very talented, gifted and crazy artist would have the courage to walk up to people and ask them randomly about their story. You’re very special to us and even though we’re a part of your story, you’ll forever be a part of ours too. Thank you. 

 

P.S. We want a copy.

 

Love,

Two strangers, Gwen and Blake.’

 

Their letter puts a smile on my face and causes tears to accumulate in my eyes. They gave me their names. It’s very special because that gesture officially makes me more than just a stranger they met on a street. It makes me their writer. The writer of their story. I knew I held a magic pen, but its magical features had never been shown to me this clearly before.

And there you have it. Finally a fairytale-like love story from our days. I don’t know about you, but it’s nice to know that these still exist. It’s nice to know that we shouldn’t just lose all of our faith. Miracles can still happen.

 

The end.

 

 

Chapter 7: You're stupid

Notes:

Ahem... Things are... heating up???

I hope you like it!

I'm crying in the conference room all by myself. The story is so much more than I ever thought was possible. It has everything any love story should have. It took me a couple of hours to read and by the time I finished it, the cleaning lady was the only one left in the building and she was throwing me some ugly looks.

You see, had I been able to do whatever the fuck I wanted, I'd be on his front porch, knocking at his door, but I know that she's probably there too. And after more thinking, I realize that I don't even have something to tell him. It's just one of those moments I feel the need to be with him. There's so much to digest… It’s ridiculous the effect he has on me. What's even more ridiculous is that tomorrow is the first day of the casting process and guess what, Carson wants me there too. Me, him, Blake and two other people, an actor and writer. I told him I wouldn't do it, I know absolutely nothing about actor castings, but I bet that tomorrow morning he's going to end up at my door, forcing me to go anyway. He said that it’s not too different from casting models, so with that thought in mind, I finally agreed. 

 

The next day  

 

Am I considered mean if I decide to wear something very elegant and fancy to this casting session, knowing that I'll see him again? I don't care. He's been mean to me this whole time, now it's my turn to mess with him. He writes a book about me, he clearly feels the same way I do and yet he's still lying to his girlfriend and hurting us both in the process. I won't have any of it. I walk into the building like I fucking own it and it feels incredible . He sees me and he sees my confidence, his jaw dropping just a little. We all sit down at the main table, being surrounded by other members of the production who aren't on the casting board. Including Kathryn, Blake’s girlfriend. Well that's just great.

She's gorgeous and I can only assume that she's a sweetheart too, but poor girl can't see what's right in front of her. I'm sad for her, I wouldn't want to be in her shoes. Her boyfriend has feelings for someone else and she’s not sensing a thing . Something's not right. 

-Gwen, you're gorgeous, honey! - Carson says, kissing my cheek. - Alright, we're getting ready for the first one, ok? - Carson says, getting everything started. 

Today, we're going through the male character ~ Blake's character ~ and we're about to see fifteen contestants face to face. 

We do our job professionally and even though I don't know much about filmography, I give some pretty helpful advice, helping them come up with a system. While the actors do their thing, I keep looking at the people around the room and their gazes jump between Blake and I and I immediately recognize that they're talking about exactly what I think they're talking about. They read the book and they figured out who the characters are. It’s not like Blake even tried to hide the fact that it’s us he wrote about. I don't mind it necessarily. I just don't think Kathryn would appreciate hearing the truth. 

Towards the end of the audition, Blake and I start talking about the last contestant that we saw and for the first time in a few weeks, I feel comfortable having a conversation with him.

-He was really good and he's also very similar to the character’s descriptions. - he says.

-Oh, stop flattering yourself. He's much shorter than you and he's very young. He doesn't have that much experience and this part is pretty big, we can't afford to lose money on him.

-Yeah, Gwen's right, you are flattering yourself. - Carson chimes in.

-I just think that there's no way for the guy to gain experience if everyone thinks he's just a waste of money.

-Don't take it personally, he's just not ready to have such a big role. The book shows more sides of the main character than one and that's more complex than he can carry for now.

-Yeah, maybe you're right… How can you be so objective about this? I can't understand… - he says.

-I'm a designer, I literally pick between patterns that look nothing alike and fabrics that you can't tell the difference from, so… It’s pretty much my job.

-I know why I brought her here. - Carson takes credit.

- You sure did… - Blake says staring at me, as the next contestant walks in.

We look at each other and I tell him to cut it, being a little uncomfortable with his bravery in front of his girlfriend. 

The next day brings yet another session of casting, but today, Blake seems a little off. I don't ask him about it, but Carson seems to be in on the equation. I'm curious, but I know I didn't do anything wrong, so I just mind my own business, welcoming the actors warmly as they come. After a long day of silence among my coworkers, heated stares between them are being passed and eventually, Blake comes to me.

-Hey…

-Hi. - I say dryly.

-So… Kathryn and I got into a pretty heated discussion last night… - I stay silent - She asked me about you… I told her the truth, showed her the book...

-Good. I told you to do that from day one…

-She asked me to fire you. - he interrupts me.

A bomb was dropped on me and it's about to explode.

-Blake, I need this job, I hope you're aware of that. 

-I know…

-You're letting your problems affect me and it's not fair from her nor from you. My boss explained it very clearly that I have to make this work. 

-I'm not firing you, Gwen. I don't even have the authority to do that, I'm just telling you why we've been so weird today.

-So what am I supposed to do with this piece of information, Blake? - I'm exploding. - I told you to tell her from the very beginning, didn't I? I did. Did I also tell you how fucking stupid this whole charade is? How ridiculous we're being? You write a whole book about me, but you're not able to read between the lines? Well let me help you. I love you. I don't know why the fuck I love you, but I do . And I think you know it and you feel it too, but it seems like I have to be the man out of the two of us and admit it out loud. Well there it is. 

He looks at me completely shocked, especially that we're not alone in the room. We're not being loud or anything, but people can hear us if they want to. 

-Don't worry about your relationship, Blake, I'll hand in my resignation as of tomorrow morning. And from then on, I better not hear from again. - I say, walking out angrily.

I cry on the way home, unable to do anything else but drive and drown in my feelings. Once at home, I make sure to snuggle up in some comfy clothes, a messy bun and a cozy blanket, feeling the need to write something. It was addicting. Writing became addicting to me. I've been keeping an electronic journal ever since Blake made me write my part of the book. It's been helping me sort through my thoughts,  allowing me to fantasize and dream and even explore the deepest, darkest corners of my mind. And so I write for what feels like hours on end until I fall asleep with my laptop in my hands. A knock on the door wakes me. 

I make it to the door with a sleepy face, not being fully aware of my surroundings yet. Carson is standing on my front porch and once he sees my sad, tired face, he worries.

-I heard about what happened… Can I come in?

I open the door even wider, allowing him to enter my house, but I’m unable to speak just yet. 

-I’m so sorry, Gwen… I didn’t think she’d go that far…

-Really? You didn’t think that his girlfriend would get mad at him for writing a whole book based on another woman, a woman that he happens to work with? Well then I must be some kind of genius, because no one saw it coming but me. 

-Gwen, her father is sponsoring this whole project…I didn’t know this until today, believe me, otherwise I wouldn’t have made you do this. He couldn’t just break up with her like that, by telling her the truth. Her dad would have cut us short immediately and we wouldn’t have been able to pay our staff.

- That is not my problem. I told him from the very beginning to be honest with her. Look at us now, Carson, I’m about to resign from this film and then I’ll go to Lizzie and explain to her that I really wanted to make it work, but I couldn’t do that either and that will most probably cost me my actual job which I love and treasure more than anything else.

-She’s not going to fire you, Gwen…

-Do you remember what I said about that actor that was too inexperienced to play the part of the male character?

-His lack of experience would cause us to lose a lot of money.

-Yeah, I’m that guy to Lizzie, Carson. I haven’t come up with a new design in over a year now, not to mention that I completely jeopardized our participation in this year’s Paris Fashion Week… I messed up big time, Carson, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she decided to fire me after this. I deserve it.

-No, you don’t. I’m the one who made you do this.

-Honestly, Carson, I don’t even care who’s fault it is, I’ll just see what the fuck I have to do tomorrow.

-I’m so sorry, Gwen…

-Yeah… Me too…

I’m sorry that I met him. I’m sorry that I fell in love with him. Maybe it’s not right of me to think like this, but I had enough on my mind as it was, I didn’t need him messing with me any more. The truth is, I haven’t had an artist block before, I never knew how bad it can be, but lately, I’ve been so caught up in my whole vendetta that I should probably resign from the firm as well. I haven’t been a valuable asset anywhere and that fact is killing me. Carson leaves me to my own devices and I write my resignation letter, needing to do it alone. I have to make it personal and I have to make it brief. The next day holds another adventure.

 

The next day…

 

I walk into Lizzie’s office, wanting to tell her everything before I resign from the movie, but her reaction the minute I enter her office is surprising. 

-Gwen, I’m so glad you stopped by, I actually wanted to talk to you! - she says, smiling.

I can’t let her tell me anything before I finish the speech in my head. 

-Actually, I come bearing some bad news… For me. - I say and she turns serious. - I’m afraid I have to resign from the movie, Lizzie. There’s a conflict of interest and I cannot afford to make this firm look bad, not after my lack of participation. I understand if you think there’s no reason you should keep me here, I really do…

-Woah, Gwen, honey… Don’t even go there.

-But it’s true, I haven’t come up with anything in over a year, not to mention that this whole movie project was supposed to bring us some sort of publicity, well now, no more of that either… I’ve been terrible and you should be screaming at me right now.

-I don’t think so. You see… I received a very interesting email last night from a certain Blake Shelton who sent me a book. I couldn’t help my curiosity and I finished reading it this morning.

My. jaw. dropped. That son of a bitch…

-The book is amazing, Gwen, and that man spoke very highly of you in the email, not to mention that his story made me see you with a different pair of eyes. Gwen, you might not have come up with designs for me in the last year or so, but I didn’t hire you for your drawing skills. I hired you for your opinion and overall outlook on beauty and fashion. You’re the one who’s been keeping this place up and running and I know I’ve been harsh on you before, but I had no idea you were going through something like that.

-I never let my personal life affect my job here before that, I shouldn’t be allowed to start now .

- No , you shouldn’t. But Gwen, you’ve been managing this place just as much as I have. That’s why I’ll never let you go. I’m old. This place will need a new ruler soon and that new boss that’s going to sit in my chair, is going to be a talented, determined, fair, blonde woman. This is a family that we’ve built here. We don’t give up on family.

-Thank you so much, Lizzie… - I say, feeling the need to hug her tightly, which I do.

-This doesn’t mean that I’m not upset about that whole movie deal though. Why on earth are you resigning? - she says, coming back to her old ways.

I laugh, wiping the tears on my cheeks and I explain to her the whole situation. Even though I find it funny, I couldn’t be more angry at him for reaching out to my boss. He tried to make it better and who knows, maybe whatever he wrote in that email was what determined Lizzie to speak so highly of me; either way, I specifically asked him to stay away.

I didn’t want Lizzie to know what I was going through because this is my workplace. This is where I need to be respected and productive, I can’t afford to expose myself like this. Lizzie is my boss and whether or not she keeps me in her company should be up to her, not some random email that a jerk sent her. 

This whole day at the office the atmosphere was wrong . She was speaking more softly to me, she was being more careful with her words and I hate every second of it. I’m not being treated like charity work, but the simple fact that now she knows the things I’ve been struggling with makes her pick and chose her tone when she speaks to me. She’s no longer real and raw and straight, she always pauses before talking. I hate it. 

So, the minute I’m done with all my work at the company, I pay a visit to Blake’s office. At this point, I don’t care whether Kathryn is going to be there or not. I have to put an end to this. I knock on his door angrily before entering the room aggressively. I see him standing up behind his desk a little irritated but once he realizes that it’s me, his gaze softens which makes me hate him even more .

-How dare you send an email to my boss, Blake?!

-What… Gwen, listen…

-No, you had no right! This is my life and you have to stay the fuck out of it, like I asked you to!

-I’m sorry, I just couldn’t handle the thought of you possibly getting fired.

-Well I didn’t get fired; instead, my boss found out about my personal issues and she started being incredibly nice to me all of the sudden.

-But that’s good, right…

-It’s the worst thing that could have happened, Blake! That woman is the queen of fashion criticism and the ultimate power tool when it comes to decisions. Well now she’s just as good as any other designer out there because instead of speaking her mind out like she usually does, now she feels the need to protect my feelings and be nice to me. I don’t want that! I want my mentor , not a fucking charity worker!

-Gwen, I had no idea…

-That your acts might have consequences?! Yeah, Blake, this happens in the real world!  Can’t you see you’re causing me trouble and pain and anger? Why do you feel the need to get under my skin every single time, huh? Can’t you see that you just have to leave me the fuck alone?

-Can’t you see I can’t do that? - he asks, interrupting me.

I look him in the eyes, counting down the seconds in order to calm myself down. I slam my resignation on his desk, never breaking eye contact. 

-You’ve made your bed, Blake. Stay the fuck out of mine. - I spit back, turning my back to him. 

A hurricane is exactly how I feel. God, this man drives me insane . He doesn’t even have to be with me to know how to read me. I would have never associated us with a hurricane. But it’s so precise. It’s exactly how I feel whenever I’m around him. Unsettled . Like I’m missing something. Without wasting any more time, I rush out of the building and I refuse to look back. I drive myself back to my place, feeling the need to write again. God, he’s like a drug… Why can’t I get him out of my system already? Why can’t I make him disappear ? I drive all the way back home barely making it to the door before crying my eyes out…

 

Blake’s POV

 

‘Dear Blake, 

 

Effective immediately, I, Gwen Stefani, hereby resign from the team.

Make no mistake, this opportunity that you have given me has proved to be exactly what I needed, but I know that I cannot stay anymore. Therefore, I thank you for letting me be the Costume Director of this project that you are launching into the world. I hope I proved myself worthy of the title. Though I will miss being a part of your story, I know it’s best if I go.

I wanted to keep working with you more than I could possibly say.

Goodbye, Blake.

Please consider this my formal resignation. 

 

Sincerely, Gwen Stefani’

 

My eyes get blurry with tears, my breath hitches in the back of my throat and the whole world starts spinning around. What the fuck am I doing? Am I really going to stand here like an idiot , instead of chasing after the woman I love? Am I really going to keep torturing myself by staying in a relationship where I don’t belong because of some obligations? No. That’s not the man I want to be. And so, I take the piece of paper with me and I rush back to Kathryn’s house, having to put an end to this charade. 

The drive to her house is anything but calm. My heart is pounding inside of my chest, not to mention that my tears can’t seem to stay put, feeling the need to erupt all over my face. I’m nervous. I’m even a little bit scared. I know that what I’m about to do might cause a lot of financial problems to the movie and a lot of people will be mad at me, but I have to put an end to this. No one is benefiting from it.

-Blake, what’s wrong? - she says, sensing my tense demeanor.

-We have to talk. 

-You didn’t do it, did you? You didn’t fire her. - she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

-She left her letter of resignation on my desk.

-Good then, what’s the problem?

- That’s the problem, Kathryn. I don’t want to do this movie without her. I wrote it about her.

-No, you didn’t. It was just a stupid attraction, like you said .

-You can lie to yourself as long as you want, Kat, we both know I’m in love with her.

Her gaze falls to the floor. 

-I didn’t want to accept it. I really like you and please believe me that if I could just forget about her, I would. But I can’t . I’ve been trying to do that ever since I met her and now that she’s in my life again, I don’t think I can let her go. You got trapped in a shitty situation and I should have never put you in the middle.

-Whatever, Blake… Just… Leave .

-I’m sorry, Kathryn… I’ll contact your father right now. He’ll get every single penny back.

-Don’t act like you care, ok? You wanted the money, you got it, now just go …

-This isn’t about the money. It’s about you deserving a better treatment. 

I exit her house and I feel as if a boulder was lifted off my heart. I didn’t like doing this, but I had to. It wasn’t fair to anyone. The next stop is at her father’s house.

Her dad is a fellow business man whom I met three years ago when I became the new CEO of Smithworks Vodka and he’s a very nice gentleman. The reason he offered to fund the movie is because not too long ago, I made a slippery deal with another firm which caused a huge financial whole for my company. I ended up putting all of my personal savings into the firm to avoid an economic crisis among employees. While I managed to save my company, I had already sent in the papers to start this movie. When the time came and I had to put in a fund for this project, I was broke. He reached out and helped me with a loan. That’s how we got together and I met Kathryn through him. 

I liked her, but I knew that she was going to be a rebound. I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall for another woman ever again. Not after Gwen . She cursed me…

I knock on his door and by the look on his face once his maid opens the door tells me that Kathryn already talked to him.

-How dare you come to my house…

-Sir, please… Let’s not mix our professional lives with our personal lives. You loaned me money and I’m here to pay you back every penny. - I say, setting out a check.

-I don’t want your money.

-I don’t care what you want, I took a loan and I’m paying back. - I reply recklessly, knowing that apologies and humility will not help me earn his respect.

But standing my case will.

-Here you have it. - I say, ripping the piece of paper and placing it on the table. - Before you start screaming at me, I want you to know that my relationship with your daughter wasn’t a scam. I wanted to make it work, but I’m afraid I’m only human. Someone from my past came back into my life and I can’t stop my heart from feeling the way it feels. I hope you’ll accept my apologies and I thank you for your help. You have no idea how much it meant to me.

-I liked you, Blake. I helped you when you made a mistake and I trusted your investments. I didn’t give you money to date my daughter, I gave you money to help you. But at the end of the day you’re just as good as any one of them out there, huh?

-I’m sorry that you think that of me. I won’t try to change your opinion, all I’ll say is that I’ve been making mistakes everywhere I set foot and I think that our encounter right now will be the very end of my bad strike.  

My words leave him speechless and I decide that it’s time to leave, so I say my goodbyes respectfully and I get in my car, driving to my last location.

I knock on her door and her soft, beautiful face tells me that she’s been crying. And I’m hating it. She sees me and threatens to close the door, but I stop it with my hand.

- Please , hear me out…

She sighs, opening the door, just enough for me to see her gorgeous self.

-I’m here to give you this… - I get out her resignation letter, breaking it in front of her.

She realizes what I just did, her eyes growing in size. She looks at me confused.

- Blake…

-It’s over. I broke up with her, I gave her father his money back and I’m done running from my feelings. Wanna know the truth? I love you. Everything I wrote in that fucking book couldn’t be more true and I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore, but I will never be able to get over you no matter what I do. When I read this, I realized that I don’t want to work on this movie without you. I don’t want to do anything without you. I don’t even want to live without you. It’s impossible. No matter what I do, no matter where I go.. I think of you. 

-Shut the fuck up, don’t lie to me, Blake! Had you loved me, we wouldn’t have been in this position. - she says, angry and sad out of her mind. 

-I can’t explain my actions in any other way, except that I love you so much that I lost my fucking mind, do you understand?! - I say, mad with desperation.

-I don’t understand, actually. Why did you keep seeing her if you had feelings for me? Why did you hide our past from her if you knew that I was the one you wanted? Why did you keep going when I told you to stop and to leave me alone? - she says, tears polling in her eyes after having raised my voice and only then do I realize how fragile and delicate she is.

I breathe in and I start over, knowing that I love her too much to see her breaking because of me. I need to be careful. I need to show her. 

-I overstepped my boundaries a hundred times and I know that you don’t even want to see me anymore, but I had to come and tell you that if you still want it, then the job as the Costume Director is still yours to take. And beside that, I had to be honest with myself finally and admit all of my feelings for you. If you think there’s still a chance to make it right between us tell me, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it right by you. I’ll do whatever it takes, Gwen, because I’m so stunned by you that I’ve turned stupid .  

She keeps silent, so it’s probably my cue to leave. I sigh quietly, taking one last look at her beauty, cursing myself in mind. 

-I’m sorry, Gwen. I didn’t know how to handle the situation and I fucked up something that could have been it . The thing we’ve been searching for ever since we were born. I’m sorry.

I turn around, walking back up to my car.

-You are   stupid… - she scoffs under her breath, making me turn around. 

I look at her confused. 

-You think you can hire me and fire me just like that, don’t you? You think you can just ask for my services whenever you feel like it? You think you can just enter my life and make me fall in love with you just to walk to your car once you finally start telling the truth?  

- I’m… - I start walking towards her.

-You’re stupid , that’s what you are. - she says, but she doesn’t close the door. - You write about me, you lie to me, you lie to yourself and for what? Why did you have to do this to me? You’re a jerk . You play this push and pull game and you’re so confusing and manipulating and arrogant and and… - she’s infuriated with me and I might just know why.

She’s having trouble finding more words to attack me with, so I get closer to her. She starts saying some more stuff, but I’m too determined right now to listen. She doesn’t take one step back as I’m getting all up in her personal space and that’s how I realize that she needs this too. She wants this too.

I kiss her mouth shut, interrupting her speech on how terrible I am.

She kisses me right back, passionately. She’s angry with me. She’s furious . But her anger only makes this even more perfect. We make out in front of her door, for what seems like an eternity, feeling the need to get lost in each other for a little while. My hands are keeping her body close to me and her arms are draped around my neck, while she’s caressing my scalp with her long perfect nails. 

She pulls me into her house and I close the door behind me, knowing that what’s about to happen might scare the neighbors. I feel the need to caress her body, but I’m scared to move my hands off her waist, thinking she’ll let go, pulling back from me.

I shove her against the wall, not allowing her to ever move out of my hold. It’s rough, maybe even animalistic, but it’s exactly what we needed. She pulls back from the kiss, trying to gain control of the situation. I give her some of her personal space back and she grabs my face tightly, not letting me go too far.

-I’m sorry… - I say, trying to apologize for the sudden urge to go all caveman on her.

-Shut up and kiss me again. - she says, bringing out the lustful, possessive side of me. 

I respect her order, slamming my mouth to hers. She starts unbuttoning my shirt and that’s when everything becomes more real. Her lips are heavenly, her kiss only makes me want to discover even more of her, not to mention that her hands on my torso are doing wonders for me. 

-You know how long I’ve been waiting for this? - I whisper, moving my kisses down her neck.

-Apparently not long enough since you’re still talking… - she says sassily, shoving my shirt off… 

Chapter 8: We're doing this

Notes:

Finallyyyyyyy!!

The minute I push her against the wall of her hallway, her grips become desperate. We’re making out quickly and desperately and I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop. Her hot body pressed against mine is slowly but surely getting me drunk on her and all of my fantasies are coming true. I’m finally kissing her however I want to kiss her. I’m finally sucking the life out of her, I’m finally giving in to my desires. But it’s not right. I stop, receiving a deadly look from her.

-Why the hell did you stop… - she asks, out of breath.

She’s lustful and dark, looking at me with a hint of anger in her eyes.

-This isn’t right… 

- Nothing we did was right. - she says, assaulting me with a very strong kiss.

I get lost in her again, but the minute I feel her hands on my belt is when I push her away, accidentally slamming her body against the wall. Instead of getting angry, grunting in pain, she whips her head back, moaning recklessly and I see her getting even more turned on.

-Holy fuck, you’re crazy… - I say, rocking a full on erection by now.

She smiles a naughty grin, even though she’s infuriated with me and she kisses me firmly, sucking on my neck.

-Stop, Gwen… You’re mad at me… Let’s talk about this… - I say, trying my best to contain myself, but I can't stop her from kissing me like this.

-Ok let’s. - she says, unbuttoning my shirt.

-No, Gwen… Please, let’s just sit on the couch and have a conversation.

-What about , Blake? - she finally lets go, pushing me away from her.

I’m not gonna lie, I hate the thought of her no longer assaulting me with her perfect mouth, but I can see some clarity now.

-You’ve been giving me mixed signals since the moment we met again. You want nothing to do with me, but you write about me like I’m the most precious woman you’ve ever met. You keep dating your girlfriend like nothing happened between the two of us. Isn’t this what you want from me? - she asks, touching my body again, kissing my neck.

- No , stop it. - I say, offended, pushing her away again. - That’s not what I want from you and you know it… 

-With you , I don’t know anything. 

-That’s what you once liked about me… - I say and she blushes, looking down to the ground.

I start buttoning up my shirt, suddenly feeling too exposed to be standing like that in front of her.

-I came to apologize, and try to talk it over... I didn’t come here for sex. 

-I hate you, you know… - she says, never daring to take her eyes off me.

-You made that clear.

-But I also love the shit out of you. 

Her words take me by surprise. I look at her quickly enough to understand how genuine and honest she’s being.

-How does that work, exactly?

-You tell me, Blake. This is how I feel. It’s how I’ve felt from the moment that we met again. What I wrote about you is true and so is everything I’m telling you right now. I don’t really know who you are and you confuse me, but you’re right . You keep me on my toes and I love that about you. But I hate being taken advantage of, Blake. And it makes me angry… But I can’t stay mad at you which is something that also makes me angry. Because when a person does wrong by me, I cut them out. Not you. I can’t cut you out. So you can decide to be a gentleman and leave me to my devices, or you can be a man and fuck me like you and I both know we want to.

Her words turn me on and off at the same time. I like a woman who knows what she wants, but I can’t stand it when somebody undermines my masculinity. However, when she did it just now, I couldn’t help it. I go to her, kissing the living life out of her.

-Want me to tell you what I want? - I ask, starting to get a little dominant.

-What…

I pick her up, shoving her against the wall. I trap her body with mine, sucking hickeys all over her neck and chest.

-I want to rip your clothes off and fuck the shit out of you. - I say seriously, looking into her eyes.

She moans hotly, trying to grind herself on me.

-Yes… - she whimpers desperately.

-I want to take you to your bedroom… - I suck her earlobe - And bury my head between your legs. - one of my hands goes there, touching her through her jeans.

- God , Blake…

-I want to spank and choke and bite the shit out of you, you don’t even know it…

- Blake… - she moans, needing to get some sort of release. 

-But not like this. - I say, stopping all of my movements, letting her go.

-Noo… Blake, what the fuck… - she says, completely annoyed.

-I’ll take you out on a date. I’ll buy you flowers and I’ll come to your door dressed in a suit. I’ll be shocked by your red dress and I won’t be able to take my hands off of you that whole evening. We go out to eat and we talk about everything. If we survive through dinner without you wanting to kill me, I promise you, pretty girl, I’ll do all those things I want to do to you and more. But not like this. 

Her brows are furrowed, her arms are crossed and her eyes are flushed with lust. 

-We may have done all the steps wrong, but that stops here. - I say, making her understand it all.

She just stands in silence for a few seconds, thinking through everything I said and when I’m about to break the emptiness, she opens her mouth to speak.

-I don’t think a basic dinner date is going to solve anything, Blake.

-Who said anything about basic? - I ask, frowning my brows - Nothing with me is basic, baby girl and you know it. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven. 

I walk towards her, heading for the door, but I can’t control myself, so I kiss her lips again, prolonging the kiss for as long as I can. It leaves us both breathless and after a heated exchange of glares, we say goodbye.

The most intense day of my life. I've never expressed my feelings so much in one day. It feels terrible to be this exposed to the world, to myself, but I'm relieved. It's all out in the open now, I'm done hiding. It's what I should've done a long time ago, if only I had the courage… 

I go back home, immediately planning the date for tomorrow. I told her it wouldn't be basic and I know she wouldn't like anything big and grandiose, so it has to be just perfect. And I think I know exactly what I have to do. I call a bunch of people, I go through a lot of trouble, not to mention that I pretty much have no money to spend since I gave most of it away to Kathryn's father.

The thing is, I made a sketchy deal not too long ago and I had taken money from the company to try and cover it up. The whole thing blew up in my face the minute people found out about it. I should've gotten fired. If our company's partners found out, I would have been destroyed in every sense of the word. Prison was also a factor to consider. And so, I started saving again to patch up the company but it wasn't enough since I had spent most of my own money on that trip to Europe. And so, Kathryn's father helped me a lot. The movie was super expensive and I will forever be grateful for his help. But you see… In order to pay him everything back all at once… I had to give up every single penny I managed to save. So how about a grandiose dinner then? 

I called out all the favors in the world for this date and so help me God if I don't win her back, I will go crazy. I don’t sleep too much that night because of how stressed I am for everything to go right and the next day finds me snoozing during one of my meetings.

-Blake? Are you with us? - Mike asks.

-Hm? Oh, Mike, I’m really sorry, yes, go on please… - he laughs it off, not paying attention to me anymore, but at the end of the meeting, he stops me from going back to my office. 

-Blake, are you ok? You’ve been super distracted for some time now… Your mother and I are worried…

Mike is the co-CEO of Smithworks Vodka and he became my step-dad a couple of years after my father’s death. They were good friends and even though my father left me his company through his will, there was no way I could have done it without Mike’s help. To be honest, I just have my name up on the wall, but it’s him that does all the real work.

-I’m alright, Mike, thanks for checking in… I’ve just been a little busy with my book, that’s all…

-Are we going to read it anytime soon? We’re both super curios. 

-You will. I just have to do a couple of things before showing it to you. 

He drops it, knowing that I’ve never really opened up to him about much and I wasn’t going to start now. I try my best not to go nuts this whole day at work, making sure to get as many things done as possible so that I’ll keep my mind off of it all. But you won’t escape what you’re afraid of. 

And that’s how I find myself in front of her door, dressed in a suit, while holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and my heart in the other. I knock on her door and the minute my eyes lay on her body, my legs go a little numb.

She respected the instructions precisely. A beautiful red gown, the most intense color for the most beautiful woman. Her hair is tightly curled and her eyes are piercing through mine. 

-Hi. - I say, smiling nervously. 

-Hi. - she reciprocates my tone and demeanor. 

-I hope you like sunflowers, I just thought they’d be fun, you know… They remind me of you.

-They’re actually my favorite flowers, Blake, thank you!

I smile when she invites me in, accepting the flowers gracefully. I can’t explain to you the amount of thoughts flooding my brain once she turned away from me to place the flowers into a vase… Her back was completely bare, exposing more skin than I’ve ever been fortunate to see from her. She is absolutely stunning. I smile to myself, understanding that making a comment on that would be highly inappropriate still. I have to win the right to make those kinds of comments. 

-So, are you ready to go? - she asks and I realize that I’ve been staring at her so intensely that I didn’t even notice that I was making her a bit uncomfortable. 

-Yes, God, yes. I’m sorry, you’re just very beautiful…

She blushes and muffles a soft ‘thank you’, before putting on her coat and walking with me out the door.  

 

Gwen’s POV

 

A part of me feels so stupid. How could I be here, in his car, letting him drive me to a date? How did I let this happen? After all the pain and trouble he’s put me through, I should have never given him another chance. 

And I know these thoughts are only here to prepare me for failure, but to be honest… I’m so excited for tonight… I try not to show it. I try not to get my hopes up, but deep down I really want this to work. I act all tough and interesting but I’m just wishing that it all goes well. So that my heart can rest a little bit.

He drives around the city ending up at the train station. My heart beats really fast.

-We’re going on a train? - I ask, tears threatening to flow out.

-Not any train. This is an old school train that works on coal. They don’t travel anymore, but I made a few calls and I found a little something. We’re going to experience a first-class train ride from the 20th century. 

I look at him with two huge orbits, having to collect my jaw from the floor.

-Blake…

-We’re only going for three hours, then we’re coming back here. 

-This is really cheesy, you know… - I flirt, not courageous enough to look at him again.

-To be completely honest with you, I’ve always wanted to go on one of those trains. Turns out this is the perfect occasion. - he squeezes my hip, encouraging me to move forward.

There’s a guy in an old ticket collector costume handing us both vintage tickets and the whole train screams 20th century vibes on the inside and on the outside. We sit at a table across from each other just like we did when we met and an older man came to us, explaining the whole process to us; how the train works, where we’re going to be travelling and all the adventures that this train has been through. The man is super sweet and he’s putting so much effort into making us feel comfortable and once we’re ready to get going, he shows us the process of heating up the water, creating the steam necessary for its movement. The whole moment is so precious and I feel like I’m listening to a little grandpa talk passionately about trains.

We eventually get back to our previous seats, being awaited with two glasses of red wine and a lit candle on the table. Even though there are two people with us in the locomotives, we are provided with such great privacy that it feels just like the last time we were both on a train. 

-I can’t believe you did all this… - I say, looking around at the fairy lights the train was decorated with.

-Wait until after we eat. I have a surprise for you and I think you’re going to love it. 

-Would it be completely inappropriate to tell you that I hate surprises? - I ask, making him frown in his smile.

-Why would you hate surprises?

-Ok… - I say, rearranging myself on the seat, approaching a more serious attitude - Since we’re doing this, I think you should know that I’m a little anxious when it comes to this stuff. I’m very particular about what I like and not like and so when people surprise me and my reaction doesn’t fulfill them, I end up disappointing them. Whatever surprise you prepared, I’m sure you put in a lot of effort to make it happen, I just need you to know that if I don’t fake a reaction, it doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it, it just means that I don’t love it as much as you probably wish I would have.

-Has that happened to you before?

-Well yeah… I’m very straightforward. If I tell you I want flowers for valentine’s day, then it means I literally want a bouquet of flowers for valentine's day. If you dismiss my wish and you do this whole romantic evening that is really well thought out and everything, I’m still going to like it, but since you didn't buy me flowers, I'll just think you did it for yourself without having me in mind. It’s just how I work… I would be the happiest on earth to just receive what I told you I wanted to receive. 

-For real?

-Yep. 

-You’re telling me… - he sits up in his chair, taking a hold on my hand on the table - That if I planned the perfect valentine’s day dinner, with candles and flowers everywhere and soft music playing in the background, your favorite wine and favorite meal, followed by that dessert that drives you up a wall, you’d still be a little bummed that I didn’t give you flowers. - he says softly, his voice being sweet like honey. 

-Yes. - I say, a little unsure about my answer now.

He’s caressing my hand on the table, making my concentration fall all over the place.

-If I took you back home, opened the car door for you, led you to your door and kissed you goodnight like you’ve never been kissed before, wouldn’t be enough because I didn’t bring you flowers. - he teases some more with a darker, getting to me.

-Mhm… - I’m finding it hard to believe my own words and he knows it.

-You would have invited me in, I would have taken that beautiful dress off your body, I would have drawn you a bath, snuggled you to bed, if only I had bought you those flowers… 

-You’re crossing all sorts of lines right now. - I swallow harshly, feeling uncomfortable in my current underwear.

I dreamt about those things he’s talking about. I’ve lived them in my imagination numerous times.  

-No, I’m making you understand that I’m not like everybody else you’ve met before. I will never surprise you on Valentine's day or on your birthday. I’ll surprise you when you least expect it, in the most wonderful way possible because I love you. More than that, it’s easy loving you, it’s easy doing all of these extravagant dates and surprises because I get to be on the receiving end of those grateful, sweet eyes and that addictive smile of yours.

I wait a minute to regroup, as I have let myself drown in his words. So far, he’s said all the right things, done all the right gestures and pushed every right button…

-You’ve got a hundred points by now, stranger. Smart answers, sweet choices… I’m beginning to think you’re pretty smitten. - I tease, needing to win back the upper hand.

-Let’s just say I’ve made some terrible mistakes and I’ll do anything to fix them. 

I nod my head slightly in appreciation for his truthful words.

And the rest of the evening runs just like this; he says something sweet that sweeps me off my feet, I say something a little colder trying to calm down and then he shuts my mouth with the perfect line, ripped out of a book. It’s perfect. Until…

-Oh my God, what was that? - I say, hearing a loud, screeching sound from the train, as the whole locomotive ensemble stops abruptly. 

Our dinner was just cleared at least, otherwise, my red dress would have the biggest wine stain ever. After the shock element was pretty much gone, I notice Blake’s grateful and humble look, realizing that I grabbed his hands tightly at the incident. I loosen my hold on him a little, his hands grabbing mine properly over the small table, enlarging his smile.

-Not to worry. We’ve arrived to the surprise. - he says mysteriously, standing up. 

I follow his lead outside the train and both of the men who have accompanied us tonight are fixing up a ladder up on the train. We stopped in a little forest on the coast outside the city that overlooks the ocean, but the darkness of the night makes the scenery more magical. 

-No. Blake, I’m not going up there. - I immediately say, grabbing more tightly on his arm.

-Do you trust me? - he asks, looking directly into my eyes.

He’s piercing through me with his gaze so that even if I hadn’t trusted him, I’d have said I did. Instead, I nod slightly, trying my best not to tremble in the cold air of the night. 

-Come up then. I promise, everything is thought out. - he reassures me, helping me with my shoes. 

The train was probably in the sun all day long so now the iron is still warm and cozy. I take off my heels to be able to climb and as the gentleman that he is, Blake holds on to my shoes as I carefully get on the ladder higher and higher. I’m met with the coziest lounge area, filled with blankets and pillows, all fenced in so it wouldn’t fall, along with a gorgeous view of the dark valley surrounding us. He arrives at the top as well, holding my hand as I sit comfortably in the designated area. He sits next to me, cuddling me into his chest. 

-So… This was it? - I ask, making him laugh that beaming sound that I fell in love with on a night just like tonight. 

-Look up to the sky. - he simply says, leaning back just a little bit. 

My eyes go up and my head falls backwards on his shoulder as the mesmerizing sight in front of my eyes takes a hold of my attention. I’m in awe of the celestial picture and I don’t even know how long I’m staring into eternity, until I hear his deep voice.

-That’s exactly the reaction I was hoping for. 

I can hear the lust in his voice, as well as the proud smile on his face, which makes me lock eyes with him dangerously close.

-This is the best surprise ever, Blake… I can’t remember the last time I saw the stars… - I say, looking back up.

The train starts going again and for a split second, I cling onto him a little tighter, but he squeezes my hand first, knowing I’d get scared. He calms me down even before I panic and there’s something about that thought that does it for me. 

-You’re something else.

-I’m really happy you like it. We have thirty more minutes from our trip, so… Let’s just watch the stars for a little while, ok? 

I nod in his chest, entangling our fingers together and he places a sweet kiss on my hand. We lay like that for a few minutes and the view, along with the repetitive, constant, faint sounds of the train make me feel so relaxed and safe that I don’t ever want to go back to real life again. And the only thing that keeps me from falling asleep, is the thought that we’re finally all alone in the most magical place ever. I get up a little, just to look at him and once I’m met with his crystal blue eyes, I’m fascinated once again. How can a pair of eyes look so good in the starlight?

I can’t contain myself. I kiss him in the most passionate way ever, my hand holding his cheek delicately, as his freshly-cut scruff tickles my chin. He gets up on his elbow, his other arm holding me closer to him. It’s like we became one. It’s like I melted into him beyond return and that thought is the most reassuring thing I’ve ever thought about. I allow myself to fade into him completely, uncaring of the side effects that may appear later on. 

We don’t pull back for a while. We just kiss and kiss and touch for minutes on end until the train lets out that ugly sound again, warning us of our arrival. We take a minute to look at each other, all out of breath and disheveled, but with big smiles on our faces.

-Let’s get out of here… - I say, now pretty much straddling his hips deliciously.

As I threaten to stand up, he pulls me in roughly with his hands on my butt, slamming my center to his. That's when I feel what effect I have on him by the forming bulge in his pants and I giggle.

-Give me a minute… - he says, looking into my eyes, needing to kiss me again.

I wonder if I should mess with him, turn the moment into something even more sexual, like rub myself on him or something, but I settle for looking at him, laughing at the moment, as I hug his torso dearly.

-Did you like the date, baby? - he murmurs in my hair.

-I loved it. No one’s ever put this much effort into one night with me… You made me feel really special…

-And I won’t settle for making you feel anything less than special every single day of your life, for as long as you’ll have me. 

-It’s stuff like this that you say that makes me believe in fairytales. But the truth is, no one’s made me feel like this before, but no one’s hurt me like you have either… You have control over me, Blake. And that’s scary.

-If it helps you, that thing you’re feeling under your crotch is not the only way you affect me, Gwen. - I chuckle, shaking my head - I hurt you and I hurt myself in the process in a way I never knew I could harm myself. I’ve put a lot of pressure on this night to be perfect and to make it all better, but if we really want to get past those traumas, we’re going to have a lot of work to do together. 

-I agree. 

-So we’re doing this. - he says, still a little unsure.

-I actually hope to be doing a little more too… - I whisper, finally deciding to grind slightly on him and he groans, getting me up on my feet with one powerful motion of his arm.

-Ok that’s enough, I just recovered! - he scolds, making me laugh.

The car ride to my place is anything but platonic. His hand is caressing my inner thigh dangerously close to my center and my nails run up and down said arm, raising goosebumps on his skin. Him having to drive with only one hand makes the car ride that much more attractive, as his rough hands contradict his delicate turns of the steering wheel. 

We arrive at my house and we rush inside, making out like two horny teenagers. Once I close the door behind us, he takes a step back from me, taking off both of our jackets.

-I can’t believe we’re doing this… - he says, looking into my eyes as my coat falls off my shoulders.

-It was about time… - I say jumping right back into his arms. 

We get lost into each other as I’m slowly leading us into my bedroom. Once we’re in and a lot of our clothes are being disregarded, I stop suddenly, feeling the need to take a second and really seize in this moment.

-It’s ok, Gwen, we don’t have to… - he immediately says, scared that I might not want this anymore.

-No, that's not it… I just wanted to… acknowledge this moment… - I say, a little nervous to not sound lame.

But as his hands gently caress my bare arms, looking up and down my undressed body, only covered by underwear, he’s smiling sneakily, biting his lip.

-We’ve gone through a lot to end up here, haven’t we? - he says and I nod slowly, pacing my arms on his shoulders, looking at him with the same grin on my face.

-We’re finally here though. - I say softly, earning a kiss that’s so powerful, it just heats up everything all over again.

I stick my half-naked torso to his bare chest, jumping into his arms as he picks me up, laying me gently on the bed. I snap my head back in pleasure when he pushes his core into mine while kissing my neck hungrily. His head goes lower and lower down my body, making it super hard for me to contain myself or even think about what I’m doing. Involuntarily, my hands are scratching his back, pulling his hair and cussing quietly, while he’s having the time of his life, torturing me. Everything is under control until he reaches my panties, threatening to take them off. That’s when I release a moan that I’m not necessarily too proud of. However, the grin it just painted on his face makes me understand that he was into it, so I decide to stop overthinking everything, and just enjoy the intimacy we’re having. 

His hands are delicately dragging down the lace fabric of my underwear, biting his lip at the sight of me. He kisses the insides of my thigh dangerously slowly as my legs are slowly but surely starting to close in in anticipation. 

-Please Blake… - I whimper quietly, making him look at me from between my legs.

-You are so beautiful… - he shakes his head almost in disbelief and it’s only a matter of milliseconds that his head is dipped between my legs, making them tremble in pleasure. 

-God yes! - I moan, pushing my head back into the bed.

-Mm you’re so wet… - he affirms, eating me out like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

His tongue is swiping gently over my folds, pushing my clit upwards in slow motions, but his hands never disappoint. He’s holding my legs apart, as his fingers caress the insides of my thighs, stimulating every single part of me. The minute he starts sucking on my clit is when I can’t stop moaning. I fidget in pleasure and I can’t believe how close I am to that sweet climax that I’ve long anticipated. My hand flies on his head, pushing him even closer to my center and once he realizes, he looks into my eyes, pulling away with a pop.

-No… - I groan, frowning my brows in frustration.

He gets back up to my eye level, starting to take off my bra by making me sit up a little bit to unbuckle it at the back and as he leans in to reach the buckle, he whispers in my ear:

- As much as I want to taste you, I feel like we’ve waited long enough. The only way you’re cumming tonight is on my cock, baby girl…

His words make me literally drip on the bed covers, his mouth latching immediately on my nipples as soon as he’s taken off my bra. I moan again, pulling on his hair tightly, making him moan as well.

-Yes, Blake, please… - I whimper in disbelief of how good he’s making me feel by only using his mouth. 

-What, baby, tell me. - he teases, his legs still covered by his pants. 

-Just… don’t tease me anymore… 

-But I don’t want to hurt you. - he says in the softest voice ever - So I need you to be really wet for me you know… 

-But I am! Blake, I’m literally dripping! - I say, frustrated, making him step back a little to look at my center again. 

His fingers dip in, pushing a finger inside of me unexpectedly.

-Fuck… - I whimper.

-Mm… - he hums, pretending to be unsatisfied. - I think you can do better. 

He takes out his finger, placing it in his mouth and sucking it clean with a pop. He hums in satisfaction, making yet another wave of moisture flow through my body. 

-You’re mean. - I complain, welcoming him between my legs once again.

-I just want you to be prepared. - he raises his shoulders, pretending to be innocent. 

-I’m literally so wet right now, I’m uncomfortable. 

-I want you to be wetter. - he simply says - What do you think could make that happen? - he tilts his head to the side, absolutely killing me.

I pull at his pants, not wanting to express my feelings verbally, but to be honest, all I've been able to think about since we were making out on top of the train is that growing situation inside his pants. He gets the message, taking off the clothing article and I get down on my knees in front of him, to his surprise. He doesn’t try to convince me not to, understanding that I need to feel him and there’s nothing he can say or do to keep me from taming my craving.

I touch him through his underwear, as his eyes are burning a whole in my head. He’s determined on memorizing this moment and I’m all for making sure it’s the time of his life he’s trying to remember. I peel off his boxers, sliding them down his legs and his dick pops out, dangerously close to my face. I’m pretty sure it just reached his navel, but I’ve been craving him for so long that size would not have mattered to me, but let’s just say that now I understand why he was so determined to get me as wet as possible…

I stroke his erection softly, beginning by licking his shaft from base to tip. He’s reaching behind him for a piece of furniture, in hopes he’ll gain some of his balance back, as his soft grunts are escaping his mouth continuously. I suck his tip like a lollipop, while my hands never stop stroking him gently. And then, I take him in my mouth, as much as I can fit and he thrives on this new pace. He grabs my hair and fucks my face softly, beginning to get closer and closer to the edge. With a twist of my hand and a certain sucking sound, he moans a little louder and I force myself off of him, wanting to make him cum inside me. 

I turn around quickly, getting a condom from my nightstand and ripping off the packaging with my teeth. I slip down the rubber, covering his beautiful cock. He bites his lips at the sight, grabbing me by my arm and making me stand up.

-No one’s ever put a condom on me, you know? I always do it myself.

-And? 

-I think I just found my favorite thing ever… - he gushes, kissing my lips once more - Now spread your legs for me, baby. - he softly commands, pushing me with his body closer and closer to the edge of the bed.

I lay on my back eagerly, placing my hands straight on his strong back, knowing that he’s too turned on to tease too much longer. He places his thumb on my pussy, playing around with the moisture and I moan loudly, being so turned on and sensitive. 

-Look at that… You get this wet from giving head, baby girl? Do you like it? - he whispers, as if it’s illegal to ask.

I just nod simply, biting my lip with a dirty shade in my eyes. But without any more convincing from my part, I feel his cock at my entrance, playing around aimlessly, before pushing in exactly where it’s supposed to go. I whip my head back in pleasure at the sensation of being so perfectly filled and my hands grip a little tighter on his shoulder blades, noticing that he’s making me tremble with one stroke only. 

-God, Gwen, you’re so tight… - he notices, frowning his brows while still having a cheeky smile on his face.

I smile right back, whimpering loudly as he thrusts in again and again and again. He doesn’t stop and his soft rhythm makes me understand that I won’t last too long like this and he teases my nipples with his mouth, which also doesn’t contribute to prolonging this moment.

-God, Blake, I’m so close…

-Cum on me baby, let go… - he whispers darkly, doing things to me.

I don’t last too much after that, so I clench my walls around him, discharging my juices all over the thin condom on his cock, as my legs are shaking uncontrollably, my muscles spasming a few times. 

However, he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, this time at a higher pace and the new rhythm, mixed with the depth of his thrusts as well as the level of sensitivity I just hit by cumming, makes for an even better sensation. I moan and I squirm, unable to believe the amount of pleasure I’m feeling.

-Oh, you’re so big… - I hear myself say after he hit a particular deep spot inside of me. 

-Yes, baby, take all of me… - he says, all out of breath and deliciously sweaty.

The way he’s supporting himself on the bed on top of me, induces his muscles to tense up, showing off his lean physique, which makes me drool a little bit. He’s so hot and charming and the fact that we’re literally tangled up in each other, out of breath, shimmering with sweat and getting hoarse from all the screaming is causing my second orgasm of the night to begin. I tremble around him again, only this time, his sounds are matching mine, as he’s thrusting quicker into me. I hold him super tight to my body as we both let go, cumming together with our bodies super tense and our eyes perfectly locked on each other. 

His body relaxes on top of mine, as I allow him to cuddle me with his body between my legs and his head laying comfortably on my chest. We’re breathing heavily moving up and down together as we’re trying to get back with our feet on the ground.

-Jesus Christ… - I hear him say after a few seconds, making me laugh a little. 

-That’s about right… 

-I really want to look at you and kiss you, but I’m pretty sure I’m temporarily paralyzed… - he says next, the giggles coming out of me consuming all that’s left of my energy.

-We’ll clean ourselves up a little later. Let’s just lay here together for a while, ok? 

-Let’s never go to sleep again without each other, ok? 

Those words ring inside my ears like the sweetest melody on a warm summer night. I know it’s the afterglow brain, I know he doesn’t mean those words quite literally, but the meaning behind those words are real and I also know that he meant them with all his heart. Just not officially. For now, I’m just happy with holding him this close to me for a little while, my brain not being in the mood to think too deeply about just anything just yet.

But after a quick trip to the bathroom, that’s how we fall asleep. We’re tangled in each other so well that you’d never know where I end and he begins. Exactly like I dreamed about. 

Notes:

Thank you for reading!!