Episode 25: Grateful

Episode 25: Grateful

Leslie took the time to find herself in the bathroom. As soon as she entered, his aromatic fresh pine scent almost knocked her over. It was something of wood—mysterious, warm and sultry.

Her nostrils twitched in delight and she opened her mouth and gently breathed in through parted lips. It enabled her to experience the addictive scent in a slightly more immersive manner.

The girl couldn't help but feel as if she was favored by the heavens as she decided to take it a step further and have a shower.

She was sure he wouldn't mind anyway.

As her lips curled up knowing that he'd been behind these said walls a couple minutes before her arrival, she couldn't help but scold herself for being such a darn pervert.

Imagining him naked was one of the lines she shouldn't cross, yet it was begging to happen with her standing here.

It was like bringing someone who was on a diet to a donut shop and asking them to just look and enjoy the pretty colors and decorations.

Freaking torture, she mentally groaned.

Her mind was still running wild with all the words she wanted to tell him. They had not been buried in the least since she's been here. Every word in that speech she had given had awoken a part of her that was dormant. Leslie wanted to risk everything to have this man be hers in every which way. She knew it wasn't one sided seeing as he treated her so well and asked her to be with him in the first place. That had to mean something given his track record of women—which was close to nonexistent.

Well, as far as she was aware of.

Still lost in thought, Leslie didn't notice him walking past her as she made her way out the bathroom and into the hallway, running an attentive hand through her damp hair.

That was why she bumped straight into him, going off balance.

"Ugh!"

The impact her shoulder faced with the wall nearby was harsh and she cried out in pain.

Christopher grabbed her and checked the area with concerned eyes. "Are you alright?"

A groan left her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. My fault for not looking where I'm going."

However, the man still glared at the wall as if it had committed a heinous crime.

She couldn't help the light chuckle that left her at seeing that. "Stop looking at it like that. You're gonna bore a hole through it."

"Maybe I should," he mumbled, speaking more to himself than her.

Her jaw dropped.

It was a pleasant surprise to see him react this strongly to her getting hurt in such a non-fatal situation.

She opened her mouth to tease him some more but then he touched the area and she grimaced.

"You're not fine," he chastised softly, a frown taking over his face.

She couldn't help but notice how adorable he looked while doing so.

"Sorry," she said. "I really thought I was."

"No need to apologize. Let me get something to put on it. Have a seat on the sofa. I placed your tea there the moment the shower turned off. That's what I came to tell you."

"You were listening to me in the shower?"

His cheeks were dusted with pink.

"Only to hear when you'd be close to finishing. I didn't want your beverage to get cold."

"Are you sure it wasn't for something else?" She continued to tease him, seeing him swallow uncomfortably.

His gaze flickered down to her freshly showered state and she was pleased to see that the sight affected him just like he had her.

Leslie smirked as she took a step towards him.

He took one back instinctively.

Her eyes widened and just as he was about to apologize, she burst out laughing. "If you'd done that to any other woman, I assure you she'd take great offense, Mr. Wells."

"I take it you're mildly offended as well if you've reverted to calling me by my last name," he said with a tiny wince and a fearful glance.

Again, had he become cuter overnight?

It felt illegal to call someone of his build and temperament as such but that was the only fitting phrase for him.

His consciousness in every little action he did, his reactions to her own and the way he was obviously making an effort to be nicer to her.

Honestly, she wondered if he thought she had completely bombed her presentation and was trying to make her feel better.

He hadn't asked her a thing—not even when the two of them found themselves seated on the sofa drinking tea in silence.

The pitter patter of the raindrops on his window was heard from inside and she felt like it was such good sweater weather and became more thankful for the get-up he got her. "Thanks for the clothes by the way," she whispered, while he sat across from her.

He was typing on his laptop. The sound was the only one that wasn't natural and she was thankful for the little indirect ice breaker.

He reached for the mug he had abandoned for the past ten minutes and took a sip. From the small grimace, she knew it had gone cold.

He put it back down confirming her suspicions.

His eyes expanded for the slightest second at her words. "It's no problem. You don't have to thank me."

She let out a giggle which made him put his laptop to the side this time, abandoning his stories once more for the ones she had to offer.

"What's so funny?"

"You always say that," his brows furrowed as if he didn't get what she was saying. "that I don't have to thank you for this or that. It just seems strange to me that's all. If I can't thank you for the clothes or making me tea, what can I thank you for?"

He shook his head at her as if she was being silly. "Do you really want me to tell you what I want you to thank me for? Doesn't that defeat the entire purpose of thanking someone? They'd already know the state of your gratitude beforehand."

She let out a sigh. "You always have an annoyingly logical way of arguing all of my points. Just say you'll keep telling me not to thank you and call it a day."

He smiled at her grumpiness and she felt her stomach flutter with butterflies.

"Do you know what I'm really grateful for though, Christopher?"

He looked unashamedly at her because of the shift in tone and maybe it was her indulgent expression that clued him in. "What?"

"You," she replied.

She heard his sharp intake of breath.

"I'm grateful that I've met you. That I was given the opportunity to stumble—literally—into your life. From that day, I knew your blue eyes would haunt me for the rest of my life. I've never seen a pair so beautiful yet chaotic. As I got to know you for being more than the obnoxiously stuck up writer everyone was raving about, I wanted to get involved in that storm in your gaze. Your life. I wanted to get caught up in all your hurricanes—the calm and everything in between. I wanted to know you and I got that. I'm lucky to have you open up to me. Tell me about your past just because you trust me. So yes, God knows how grateful I am to have you in my life."

At that moment, his eyes wrote her a thousand letters that he would never physically send.

The silence was slowly killing her.

But not as much as Leslie's words were Christopher.

He wanted to ask her if she was sure. If her emotions weren't clouded by some bias towards him, but then again who was he to question her decisions?

If she chose him, thinking that was what was best for her, on the basis of how truly and deeply she felt for him, then he honestly couldn't argue with that.

Christopher knew how headstrong she was anyway.

Some may say that he didn't deserve to have her fall into his monotonous life like this, but he did.

Leslie Quinn was the saving grace he had been way overdue for.

A bright torch that set alight to all the dark layers of himself and filled it with nothing but understanding and genuine emotions.

His expression shifted to one of defeat — his defenses came crashing down right in front of her and she marveled as it happened.

He stood up from across her and sat down where she was.

Leslie shook as he took her soft hands in his and squeezed them.

"You're one hell of a woman, Leslie."

She was stunned by his confession.

He simply played with her fingers shyly in response.

Every touch sparked fireworks across her skin.

"To put it simply, you're the most intriguing person I've ever met. I know I'm not the easiest person to tolerate, much less try and befriend, Noah is a living example of this. It took him over five years for us to get close enough for me to even call him my friend, so I can't imagine how hard it must be for...someone who wishes to pursue me. I know I'm flawed and that I gave you a hard time since you've shown interest in me. Trust me when I say it wasn't that you weren't attractive enough. Growing up I was taught not to indulge in beautiful and desirous things but you were the first exception to that. You made me become greedy for something I know I'll have struggles expressing my appreciation for. You showed me that time really has nothing to do with how quickly you can gain a strong attachment to someone."

His hand came up to her cheek gently, trembling a little, as he held her stare with determination oozing from every pore. "But just know that I've appreciated everything that you've done for me, every single word you've spoken with such brazenness, including accepting me for who I am."

She felt her eyes water at the Christopher she was seeing before her—stripped bare of his inhibitions and laying out all the cards on the table before her.

"Not the version of me the public has made up, not the one that my parents groomed nor the guy the doctors said would never be able to reciprocate someone's feelings due to my lack of empathy, but the one you discovered for yourself."

And that was more than anything else he could have sought after in this life.

Her mind was running wild with a million questions about everything he had just said.

It was a pity that she could only focus on his timid smile as he met her heart's demands.

"I'm grateful for you too, Leslie Quinn."