During the whole taxi ride, my head spins with scenarios, with questions and thoughts. I get anxious and I start shaking. This is driving me crazy. I don't know what I will do or what I will say to him. I don't even know how I feel towards him. It has been crazy between us lately, I have seemed to have lost myself during that time and I have been building myself back up with stronger foundation, my family, my friends, people that will never desert me. I wonder where Marcel fits in all of this. I just can't deny how strongly he gets me feeling everything.

The taxi drops me at the doors and they open automatically once I approach them. I head inside without doubting myself a second. I walk to the reception and ask for Marcel like I did the last time I was in this situation. This time, when the young receptionist calls, there's an answer at the other end of the line.

"Somebody is at the front desk for you. Should I tell your room number? Alright. Have yourself a good night, Sir. Thank you." The man hangs up and looks at me with a smile. "He shall meet you at his room."

He gives me the directions and I follow them with my usual lack of orientation. I get to walk again on the bright red carpet paving my way to his room. It's spongy and nice, but it doesn't keep the floor from squeaking under my weight on the old wooden floor under the carpet. I pace quickly through the maze of corridors, surprisingly finding my way to his door.

I hesitate to knock. I look down with a deep sigh and finally hit my knuckles gently on the door. I look up when he opens the door. He was expecting someone and I came here to see him, but somehow, we are both surprised. I dive into his eyes, they are cold and guarded, like they always have been. I feel instantly bad to have lost all the vulnerability he had earlier.

We both stand in silence, gazing at each other, as I don't know what to do or what to say. The only noise I seem to make is the loud pounding of my heart. He makes my body react so intensely towards him.  That's something I will never be able to understand. I need to do something and my guts entirely guides me.

I look thoroughly at him before I say anything. His jaw is slightly clenched and beautifully defined. His nostrils widen to hint me he is pissed. Both of his scarred hands are hidden deeply in his pockets. His posture is straight and his shoulders are perfectly broad for the lean shape he has. I trail my eyes on his body a little longer, remembering his bare body an instant, the heat of his touch, until my eyes find his lips. A strong desire to kiss him invades completely my senses. The colour seems even more bright, it's a gorgeous shade of pink. He hasn't the pulpiest lips, but oh so wonderful. I look up into his eyes a second and my gaze drops back to his lips. I just want to see him smile again. I am a bit sad he doesn't welcome me more happily. He is angry... I shouldn't have expected anything else.

I smile gently at him and look down at my hand, taking back the letter, unfolding it with the other. I look up and notice his sight on my hands.

"I have read your letter. I wasn't going to, but something inside of me was screaming to be with you and not with any of them. I read it in the club and about maybe three more times on the taxi ride. Eddy told me I would find you here." I tell him a bit clumsily, without any true depth even though I mean it. I just don't know how to approach the situation, I can't read him.

"And now here you are." He only responds with the coldness he is shielding himself behind.

"Here I am. Will you let me in?" I ask him, staring at him directly into his dark green orbs. It has both a literal and personal meaning.

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