Fifty Shades of Commitment

20- not edited

Sometimes you feel as if you're free falling.

Falling from a chair and having that mini heart attack before indulging in a first-hand embarrassing and awkward experience.

Falling from the cloudy and rainy,  or sunny and warm sky, as the air brushes through your mouth and you're no longer inhaling oxygen, but adrenaline.

Your body turns into an adrenaline inhaler, and the fuller it gets, the bigger is the upcoming sensation of freedom.

Freedom.

A word I thought described me during these 3 years.

3 years of excruciating and barely survivable pain, the type that holds an unbearable weight over your shoulder blades, blowing your back and cracking your spine, ripping your chest open in the process.

3 years of being locked.

3 years of being free.

All at the same time.

So right now, all I feel as I gaze into his grey eyes is demonstrated by the expression that matches my eyes.

Want.

Desire.

Need.

A necessity that needs to be met, like a fire meeting gasoline for the first time, as the gasoline gives life to the flames and intensifies the fire.

The same fire burning in the pit of my stomach.

Need.

I need you, Christian.

And I can only hope that Christian still needs me too.

It's the only way the fire will keep burning.

But he left me, even though I was the one who physically did. He left my heart alone and shattered and even kicked it once more before he left. So I left first. But, in reality, he had left many months ago.

The gasoline can goes empty.

I went from wife to mistress.

The flames are weakly shining, but they're still fighting for power, for dominance.

I went from Grey to Steele.

The fire's losing its power.

I went from 'the one', to the 'plus one'.

The flames are lessening.

I went from everything, to nothing.

The ground is swallowing them whole.

All.. because.. of him.

The fire is out.

All because of a grey-eyed man standing right here in front of me in my porch, gazing into me- through me- with an inhuman need, an animalistic desire and a barbaric craving.

I love you, Christian.

I still love you..

But I never said that out loud.

And I never will.

All because of a single person. A single woman. A single wife. All because of a single Paige.

I could already feel my eyes widening and burning, my forehead starting to develop sweat which starts to flicker down my temples, my mouth drying from all the gaping and my knees weakening.

After 3 years..

"Ana." He breathes, my name coming out as a prayer, a plea, an invocation, his eyes nearly bulging out of their pockets, probably from staring at me and realising how much I've changed. He probably thinks I look good, though. I inwardly laugh sarcastically at the thought.

Yeah, makeup can fix all of our flaws, bud.

Even so, my body literally convulses from the sight of him dressed in a tux, even though that's what I'm- no, was- used to see him wearing.

I silently scold myself for almost using the present instead of the past.

The way his name sounded rolling off my tongue, as if finishing my unspoken thoughts, is so foreign, so unfamiliar, so alien.. After 3 years of learning how to use a brain-to-mouth filter, training myself in understanding that his name invoked bad memories, bad thoughts, bad.. everything, he still gets to me.

When I manage to gather my composure, as I'm about to welcome him in, I think about Paige, and his marriage, and the pain I once felt, and then I remember all the trouble 3 years ago.

No. This has to stop. This has to stop right now.

How the hell would I even greet him? A kiss on the cheek? A pat on the back?

A kiss on the mouth, perhaps? My inner goddess shrieks in delight, as she raises herself from her cloudy bed and stretches her arms after being passed out since I came to New York and got a job at Scarlett & John.

Work!

"Shit. Shit!" I howl in irascibility, as I repeatedly mutter profanities under my breath and silently admonish the fact that I cannot afford to lose this job. I hurry my steps and head for the doorknob and hold it tightly against my whitened knuckles, and as I'm about to shut it closed, I'm reminded of the presence of a certain someone as he amusedly coughs into his elbow and wears a smug smile, that could move heaven and earth.

I mutely sigh in adoration.

He's more than just a certain someone. My subconscious mocks in cynicism, as she proudly wears a bitter grin.

I bravely decide to address the elephant in the room, spinning around and looking straight at amused grey eyes.

"I have to work." I say, and inwardly flip my hair, shake my hips, sing the Kumbaya and howl at the moon in delight for not stuttering.

Bravo, Ana.

But I know that all thoughts of work and plans I had for today- which were nothing but heading to a bar and get drunk- jump off my mind when Christian simply says,

"We need to talk."

Yep Christian, we really do.

----

hi

sorry if it's not that big but I literally just wrote that cause my pc was all messed up but meh

I'M BACK MUCHACHOS

kk ,_,

__

i edited the chapter, i like it better now c: