Felicity's POV.
Later That Night. After brunch, I hugged Penelope goodbye and walked home alone, my thoughts a chaotic mess I couldn't outrun. Too many feelings. Too many questions. I didn't want to be around anyone. Not Alex, not Noah, not Penelope, and definitely not Chris.
Was Alex really into me? Did I want him to be? Why did Chris look at me like that?
Then it hit me. If Penelope was Christopher's sister, that meant he was royalty, making him a prince. A real one. My head spun as I unlocked my door. By the time I got home, I was emotionally exhausted, still clutching the stupid red rose flower Alex gave me. I barely managed to step inside and shut the door when I heard a knock.
I froze. The knock came again, loud and impatient, as though whoever stood on the other side already knew they shouldn't be here. My fingers tightened around the rose. I opened the door. Chris stood there, eyes dark, jaw tight, looking like he'd walked straight out of the war zone in my head and into my hallway.
Before I could even speak, he stepped inside like a storm with no warning. The door shut behind him with a quiet, controlled thud. He grabbed my hand and tugged me in, his body pressed close as he backed me into the wall, his presence overwhelming as he gently but firmly pressed me against it. Not violent or aggressive, but intense burning through me. His hand was braced above my head, the other holding my wrist tightly. His eyes were wild, unpredictable and unrestrained. His hair was messy.
"Chris?" I whispered.
"You're mine," he said, his voice low and fierce. "First Noah, then Alex. Aren't they giving up just like that? They should just give up, because you are mine, and there's nothing Alex or Noah can do about it."
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
"Chris! What are you doing?" I whispered again. "Let me go. What's gotten into you? This isn't you."
But I didn't push him away. And the worst part was, I wasn't sure I wanted to.
Fear and something dangerously close to desire tangled in my chest. His grip didn't loosen, not painful but desperate while his stare searched my face as rage, anguish, and jealousy clashed with something raw, aching, and reckless: desire.
"Why won't you love me back?" His voice cracked. "What do I have to do? Just tell me please. What do they have that I don't?"
My breath caught in my throat. I didn't know what to say, because deep down, the truth terrified me. I think I was falling for him, hard. But I couldn't admit it. Not yet. Not when everything between us was so tangled in secrets and silence, wrapped around us like unbreakable chains.
"This isn't fair," I whispered, trembling. "You don't get to show up and claim me like I'm some prize or belong to you."
His jaw clenched. "I never stopped wanting you. I messed up, yes but don't punish me by letting them in. I'm in love with you, Felicity. It's driving me insane and it's tearing me apart."
He exhaled sharply, his voice raw. "I saw you smiling at him, holding his flower, and all I could think was, that should've been me. I should've been the one making you smile. I should've said it first. I can't breathe knowing someone else is holding your hand, touching you, when I still dream about it and Noah confronted me that day. I was mad at you because I told you I love you, but you were so furious. Noah said I should stay away from you. But I can't. I just can't."
I tried to open my mouth, but the words wouldn't come out. I just stood there, breathing shallow, my chest tight.
"You're hurting me," I finally whispered.
He let go of my wrist slowly, reluctant, his hand trailing down my arm like an apology he didn't know how to say.
"Say something," he pleaded.
"I… I don't know what to say."
He stepped back, pain flashing across his face, the look in his eyes ripping something inside me.
"Do you have feelings for him?" he asked quietly.
I looked away. "I don't know."
Silence fell heavy between us. Then he whispered, "I'm sorry. I am truly sorry for pushing you too hard. But I can't watch someone else touch you. You're mine, Felicity whether you admit it or not. I'll prove it. One way or another."
He paused. "I'll wait. No matter how long it takes."
Then he turned and walked out. The moment the door closed behind him, I threw the red rose and I sank to the floor, shaking. My pulse was still screaming, my thoughts spinning out of control. Because now there were no more blurred lines. Three men were fighting for my heart. And mine? It was caught between a rose and fire. But only one of them had already stolen it.
What was I supposed to do? Noah liked me but doesn't he have a girlfriend now? What was going on with Chris and Penelope? Is he really a prince? And why did he hide it from me? What about my father? Is he a duke? A viscount? Why am I always the last to know anything?
My brain hurts. There was only one solution,sleeping meds. Sleep was the only escape I had left. Because I was falling in love with Chris, and I didn't know if I could handle it. Tonight, I needed a break from everyone. Including myself.
>>>>>>>>>>
Christopher's POV.
I watched from the side door of the café like a stranger, pathetic, silent, seething. A flower. A stupid freaking flower. Why didn't I think of that? She looked so happy. Genuinely surprised. Her smile was the kind that used to belong just for only me and had been given away by someone else. I should've been the one giving it to her. I should've done everything right. But I'd been too slow and too scared but not anymore.
Oxford boy with his perfect blazer and his designer shoes thought he could just waltz in and win her with petals and polished charm? I tore off my apron behind the counter and ripped off my name tag. No goodbyes. No excuses. I was done waiting. I left the café without a word and walked the whole way to her apartment, heart racing, every step fueled by rage, regret, and need.
When she opened that door and saw her again, flower still in her hand, I lost all sense and destroyed whatever restraint I had left. It wasn't planned. It wasn't smart. But it was real. Her eyes. Her scent. The way her voice trembled when she whispered my name. And now I'm standing under a streetlamp in the dark, heart pounding in my chest, staring up at her window like some lovesick fool from a Victorian novel. I shouldn't have said all that. I shouldn't have touched her. But damn it. I meant every word.
"I love you, Felicity," I murmured into the wind. "Even if you never say it back. Even if it kills me."
The ache inside me was worse than anything I'd ever known. The pain wasn't because she didn't love me yet. But it was because maybe she never would. And just like that, the fire met the rose, and I knew nothing about tonight was going to be simple.