Chapter 18 | Missing

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Felix's POV




I don't expect you to understand. 

First, because I know this isn't a normal relationship. This is nowhere normal. And second, because I know only a few selective people who know how it truly feels. How your feet decide to stop even though you want to run away so desperately. How your lungs malfunction right in that brief second that feel like a million. How everything just stops... when you hear their voice

I'm fucking crazy. 



I turned around, slowly.


If I had moved when I was walking away, well it sure didn't feel like it, because he was still close to me, if not more.

I stared at him in disbelief. 


Did I hear right?

That's a rhetorical question. The only voice that makes me do unexplainable stuff like that is his. HE's the only person that makes me do unexplainable stuff.


I wasn't analyzing what was going to be his reaction, or what was going to happen if I dare reply, but none of it mattered. If I wanted to show him that I didn't care when I did, I needed to be less obvious. So, I replied as dry as I could.


- Hey. – I said. I wasn't smiling, I wasn't moving. I just stared back. 


He blinked a few times before taking his eyes away. I guess me responding so cold wasn't something he was used to. Well. He should be smart and get used to it quickly.

His seemed to be about to say something, but his eyes stopped in Viola, and suddenly, he cringed. I looked at Viola, and honestly, she seemed scared. I guess I forgot what people's reactions are around him. I wasn't letting him make my friend feel uncomfortable. 


- What do you want? – I asked, stepping in front of Viola so she couldn't see him or vice versa.


That made him drop his gaze towards Viola and redirected it to me. His cringe changed to his known poker face as quick as always. He put his hands in his pockets and stared at me.


- When are you gonna pick up your stuff? They're taking space. – He said, and I was not surprise that was the first thing he decided to tell me after not talking for so long. 



I used to regret running away, you know? I think I said it before. 


That I was definitely going to be regretful about escaping and running away from him, and I did. With all of me, because as I predicted, as soon as I was out of his apartment, I already missed him.

His presence, his body, his voice... God, even his smell. I... missed him. With all of my being. My heart, my... hands. They just wanted to feel the sensation of his inked skin in them. The sensation of his wet hair, his rough voice when he drank too much, his laughter when I said something funny, the smell of smoke that I used to hate so much, but coming from him, Jesus, it could even make me hard.

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