Please don't leave me again

3

Charlotte's pov:

Two weeks ago, I finally made the move to this city, a decision I've long contemplated. There was always the hope that I'd find her here, the one I've never stopped loving.

The stress of relocation led me to seek solace in a nearby bar, where fate seemed to intervene as I found myself seated next to her—Engfa. I hadn't expected our reunion to be so serendipitous, but I'm grateful nonetheless.

As I tap her shoulder, she turns to face me, her gaze fixated on mine, momentarily captivating me. The familiarity in her dark brown eyes reignites a flurry of emotions, just as it always has.

Engfa, before me, as stunning as ever. I can't help but wonder if she still feels the same pull between us.

Though in the span of ten years, she must have moved on, found someone else. The mere thought threatens to shatter my heart, yet the prospect of rekindling our friendship offers solace. I've missed her terribly, and the thought of losing her again is unbearable.

"Charlotte," her voice, a melody I've longed to hear, calls out my name, instantly lifting my spirits.

"Engfa," I respond, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

"What brings you here? It's been so long..." she says, her tone a mix of surprise and sadness. Does she miss me too? I can only hope, for I've missed her more than words can express.

"I recently relocated here. There's a promising job opportunity," I reply, hoping my presence brings her some measure of joy. Yet, I temper my expectations, wary of raising false hopes.

As our conversation unfolds, I notice Engfa's increasing intoxication, a sight that doesn't sit well with me.

"Engfa, you're drinking too much. Perhaps it's best if you head home," I suggest, concern lacing my words.

"No, I'm fine. I'll go home later. Besides, I don't have work tomorrow," she reassures me, though her unsteady demeanor betrays her words.

Before I can protest further, she pulls me closer, ensnaring me in an unexpected embrace. Caught off guard, I find myself drawn into her embrace, her proximity stirring a flurry of emotions within me.

"Charlotte, you can't keep pushing me away. I still love you," she confesses, tears welling in her eyes. It's clear she's intoxicated, her emotions heightened by the alcohol.

"Oh," is all I manage to utter, overwhelmed by her admission.

Before she can retract her words, I guide her out of the bar, supporting her as we navigate through the parking lot. With her leaning on me for support, I guide her to her car, where I take the keys from her and settle her into the passenger seat.

"I don't want to lose you again, Charlotte," she murmurs, her words tinged with vulnerability.

Despite her inebriation, her confession ignites a warmth within me, flushing my cheeks.

Unable to resist the urge to comfort her, I lean in and kiss her softly, a gesture born from a mix of longing and affection.

To my surprise, she responds eagerly, her touch electrifying as our lips meet in a tender embrace. In that moment, all doubts and reservations fade away, leaving only the undeniable truth of our connection.