Little Talks ☇ C. Evans

81 ) nerves

Chris paced back and forth in the living room of the Fitzgerald home, chewing nervously on his fingernails. With his other hand, he dialed Poppy's number again frantically.

Voicemail.

He let out a sigh as he threw his phone on the couch and ran a hand through his hair. He knew it was his fault that any of this had happened in the first place. It all started with a lie, and standing there now, worrying to death about the girl, he realized how much he really did hate himself for lying to her. Or maybe he didn't hate himself for lying; maybe he hated himself for having something to lie about.

He was human. Humans make mistakes. However, he felt as if his mistake was one that couldn't be forgiven.

It had been a good hour since he'd last spoken to Sebastian, making it around one-thirty in the morning. His eyes were tired and he needed sleep, but he couldn't even bring himself to sit on the couch. All he could do was worry about his best friend.

As he retrieved his phone from where he'd thrown it on the couch in frustration, he began to dial Poppy's number again, only to be stopped when he heard the front door of the house open and shut.

He quickly rushed down the hall and to the door, his blue eyes meeting her green ones.

"Oh my gosh," Chris muttered out, hurrying over to her and engulfing her into his arms tightly. "Where the hell were you?"

Poppy was confused; last she checked, they weren't speaking and now he was hugging her and showing concern for her? Nonetheless, she wrapped her arms around his tall figure to hug him back, though his hug had turned into some kind of suffocation method.

"I was with Sebastian at the airport." Poppy stated, pulling away from him.

"Don't you dare lie to me. Sebastian said he took you to the graveyard and next thing he knew, you were gone." Chris explained, his jaw clenched as he looked down at her.

Poppy furrowed her brows, taking a step back, "I just wanted to come home."

"What? I called you like a hundred times and you didn't answer." He sucked in a breath, watching her as she checked her pockets for her phone.

"I must have left my phone in the rental car."

Chris's eyes widened and he shook his head, "This is unbelievable. So, you're saying you just decided you wanted to walk home in the middle of the night without telling Sebastian where you were going?" He scoffed.

Hearing the words come out of his mouth did make it seem like a stupid thing to do. It was just that her judgment had been clouded with everything that had happened.

"We were worried sick about you!" Chris threw his hands up in the air, "Sebastian is out there driving around looking for you! I-I thought," his throat went dry as his voice cracked.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I didn't think it was a big deal. The cemetery is only a few miles from here. I just wanted to come home." She let out a breath, looking up at him as his face turned red.

"Sebastian thought you were going to hurt yourself. I was so damn worried about you that I had a panic attack myself. I can't-I don't even—" he couldn't even speak, he was so upset by this.

All he could do was pull her into another hug and hold her petite body tightly in his arms. She was everything to him; he couldn't even imagine his life without her. Yet here he was yelling at her, probably pushing her farther away than he already had.

"I'm sorry for lying to you, Pop-tart. I am so sorry for everything." He mumbled into her blonde hair, his chin resting on top of her head.

Poppy let out another sigh, his warmth comforting her, "It's okay. . ."

But it wasn't okay. He could apologize a thousand times and it wouldn't mend her broken heart fast enough. A simple 'sorry' wouldn't put the pieces back together.

He would have to show her how sorry he was. He would have to show her how much he really did care about her.

Chris would have to show her how much he loved her, because he did. He did love Poppy.