CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I could see Marie engaging with Erwin.

And although I felt a pang hit my chest, I knew I had no right to feel anything but utter glee for the two of them.

It was not like Erwin was mine. Sure, he may have said a few words he may or may not mean—but that's all they were, right? He couldn't possibly mean it to me, not when Marie's right there.

If I was Erwin, I'd see the obvious choice too.

"You're on your 4th glass." Nile pointed out to me with furrowed brows, growing concerned over my alcohol consumption as I feel my body grow warm now.

"Don't worry, I have a decent tolerance. . ." I mumbled. "You know, this reminds me of a time when you had too much to drink and ended up sprawling across the street. Do you remember that?" I grinned, resting my chin against the open palm of my hand.

Nile turned away, obviously embarrassed as the tips of his ears turned red.

"It's okay to forget some memories, you know?"

"You were hugging the lamp post and kissing it. When I asked you what on earth you were doing. . . You know what you said?" My grin only widened. "You said you were saying goodbye to Mar—"

"Okay, that's enough!" He was absolutely flustered now. "Though I have no recollection whatsoever of the events you claim to have transpired."

"Oh, trust me. It happened."

"What gives?" Nile sent me a pointed glare to match my amusement. "Have you lost your ability to stop intrusive thoughts by the 4th glass?"

"Just a happy thought." I mischievously stated. "But yes, this glass is dedicated to that memory and the next shall be about the time you got into—"

"No more drinks for you!" Nile swiped the glass away, sending it towards Erwin who sat across us.

Marie was conversing with him seeing as I preoccupied Nile's attention. However, Erwin looked like he was paying half-attention to her as his eyes occasionally darted towards us; seemingly more interested in whatever conversation we were having than whatever story Marie was telling him.

"Get this away from Thorne Junior before he reveals the military secrets." He told the blonde, letting Erwin hold the glass away from me.

I piped in, "That is a smart term, Nile. Recalling your bathroom incidents do remind me of war stories—very befitting of the Military."

"M/n!" Nile buried his face in his hands as I heartily laughed, feeling more free now that I had alcohol giving me a false sense of confidence in my system.

"Brother, I think you should start freshening up. I can tell you're not going to be feeling well later when the alcohol isn't making you drunk." Marie pointed out, making me stop for a moment as I assessed my state.

Did I feel terrible?

No. I feel fucking fantastic!

Feeling sick to my stomach as Marie now shed light to reality, my hand found it's way to cup my stomach and I was positively growing green.

"I'll get you a glass of water." Erwin spoke up, stopping his conversation with Marie as his eyes were on me the entire time to observe my movements.

I pursed my lips into a thin line and shook my head.

No, it's going so well. They're actually talking.

"No." I stood up, feeling nauseous. "I'll get it myself. You two catch up and I'll be right back." I took a step forward and nearly staggered from my own chair blocking my foot.

I leaned my weight of Nile to prevent myself from falling.

"Ow!" The dark haired male yelped while his hands instinctively helped to stabilize me, which I was grateful for

"Sorry. How clumsy of me." I excused to let them know I wasn't vulnerable or tipsy before patting Nile's arm and continuing on my journey.

As I got my glass of water, I took a moment to breathe.

I didn't feel as sick as I did before but the emotions crashed against me like a wave as I reminded myself of the current setting.

Of course it affected me when I continously push Erwin towards Marie. I'd be inhumane if it didn't.

I like to believe I was doing what was best for them. What was best for all of us. This was the best-case scenario in whatever feeble plan my mind has organized.

I kept telling myself it was the only way.

Marie would be happy, Erwin can be happy with her, and Nile. . . Well, that makes me a terrible person.

I sucked in a deep breath, shaking my head.

Being with Erwin would only complicate the situation so. Marie would feel betrayed, Erwin would discover the secret behind the letters and he, too, would feel betrayed, Nile would be skeptical of us, and no one would ever socially accept such a taboo union.

This was for the best, I convinced myself.

"Let's get you some fresh air." I feel a hand grab my wrist and tug me towards the main exit, startling me as I stared at the familiar back of the last person I wanted to talk to.

I glanced at our table and saw Nile conversing with Marie, his cheeks tinted.

I allowed myself to be dragged outside before tearing my arm away from his grip, and I could almost discern a flash of hurt cross his face.

He recollected himself quickly, "How long do you plan to avoid me? Don't you think it's about time we talk?"

I shook my head, "We've talked, Erwin. I told you, I can't! Not especially tonight."

"Why not tonight?" He pressed. "Is it because of Marie? Because I've told you, I do not fancy her—"

"That's the problem!" I exclaimed, swallowing thickly before composing myself. "You're supposed to love her." I reasoned before sighing in exasperation, "Look, just go back inside and talk to her."

"I don't want to talk to Marie. I want to talk to you."

"We have nothing to talk about."

Erwin clenched his jaw, "You keep pushing me to her. You want to actively ignore what's happening right now."

"Because that's how it's supposed to be, Erwin." I argued, "Nothing is happening right now."

"You want me to love her, is that it?"

"It would be easier if so." I nodded stiffly. I aim to be grounded and yet I couldn't ignore how my hand still trembled and how my voice wasn't firm enough.

He looked at me painfully, inevitably causing an uncomfortable clench in my chest as I avoided his gaze.

"Is it because you don't love me?" Erwin asked in a small voice, which was incredibly uncharacteristic of him. It was a foreign kind of unfamiliar for me to see him so vulnerable.

He was Erwin Smith, for goodness sake. Admired by our peers, charming with his vocal ambitions, intriguing with his controversial knowledge and outrageous conspiracies.

"I. . ." I felt my throat run dry as it always did when my words couldn't reach my mouth. "It's just. . ."

"You could just tell me. You can be honest with me." He pleaded.

"I'm not an affectionate person, Erwin."

"That's a lie, M/n." He called it out as he saw fit, "You talk to Nile and you spread your warmth. You do not see how much you capture people with the littlest gestures. So, M/n, you are an affectionate person—you just aren't towards me."

I was stunned for a few seconds as I took note of his warmed appearance and cloudy gaze, his clenched fists and furrowed brows.

I could recognize that look anywhere but I never thought I'd find it on him of all people.

"Are you jealous?" I asked in disbelief.

He breathed incredulously, finding the question silly.

"Of course I'm jealous." He bites out. "You smile at other people but not at me. You chatter and touch their hair, but you hate my touch. You give your happy thoughts freely to others, and there are none left for me. I want all of it, I want everything you have. I want your touches, your tears, your smiles. I want it all. And I do not wish to share." He frowns.

I didn't know what to do with the confession other than the fact that I felt absolutely flustered.

Seeing my lack of words to reply, he took it as a chance to continue.

"And pushing me towards Marie? That made my chest burn. I hated it. You know what that was like for me? Seeing the person I love having a great time with someone else while I had to endure his sister's (no offense) plain stories? I was sitting there—barely even able to pay attention to her as I'm thinking to myself that I didn't want to share you with anyone else." His neck visibly strained.

"Erwin," I began, attempting to diffuse the situation before he cuts me off with a firm shake of his head.

"No, we'll talk about it now. I can't ignore whatever's going on between us anymore, and I'm not gonna. Not when it makes so much sense."

I feel the corner of my eyes sting.

"You're wrong, it doesn't make any sense." I shook my head, still denying whatever was being presented in front of me. "You're Erwin Smith, greatness is practically written on the stone you were born. It doesn't make any sense that you're here, standing in front of me, saying the words that you should be saying to someone else who deserves it more."

"Like who?" He counters.

"Like Marie." I replied as though it was the most reasonable response.

"And what makes Marie more deserving than you?"

"She's great!" I exclaimed. "She's charming, she's witty, she matches you impressively, she's independent, she would never let you sleep without solving a fight, and she would never let you leave without  communicating first—"

"And I don't see how that makes her a better option."

I chuckled in disbelief, "You must be really blind then."

"No. Give me one reason why I shouldn't be loving you. Because you mention all those incredible things about her and yet all I can register is how you can possess those qualities too."

I was falling to a corner, I knew this now with how persistent Erwin was. He wasn't dealing with my bullshit. Half of me was relieved he could see right through me, but at the same time, I could not ignore the conflict in my bones and the anxiety that pulsed my veins.

"I'm a bore, Erwin." I laughed, though it didn't sound at all genuine. "I'm a boring guy drowned in literature and pointless misdeeds, I couldn't possibly offer you anything! Give it a month and you'd tire of me."

"M/n, I could never grow tired of you." He looked at me, brows knitted together in sincerity.

"You don't know that." I argued. "You talk so passionately about conspiracy theories and half the time—I don't even get what you're saying. You love historical figures and I hate them. You're socially acceptable; admired even, and we can't deny the fact I'm an outcast in comparison. In a matter of time, you'd realize that this is a terrible arrangement. You'd grow to regret it, and eventually, you'd inevitably hate me. We'd argue about every little thing because we would be absolutely driven to the point we can't even stand each other!"

"You can't possibly predict all that and expect for it to be our reality."

"No, but the possibility of that always lurking in is something I can never ignore." I wasn't even sure if I was breathing properly.

I was growing emotional and I hated it.

I hate it.

I was tempted to run, to forget all this and leave it like I always did. I was tempted to be cowardly.

But when I gazed back at him, I felt my breath hitch to a stop.

His eyes were so warm and intense on me that I was sure he could read all my thoughts, everything I felt and thought about him, written on my pupils.

"I would never leave you." He told me calmly, more composed now that he processed the words that spurred out of my mouth. "And you're wrong. I could never ever hate you, even if I will myself to—which I could never also do."

He took a step forward towards me. And I wish he didn't have to look at me with such softness and treat me with such gentleness. Maybe if he had been more rough, harsh, and callous—it would be easier for me to get over him.

But with the way treated me, he had me hooked in his fishing net. And I was too tired to fret my way out.

"I understand. And I'll continue to understand you. I'll be here to drive out your pessimistic thoughts. And although I cannot promise you that I possess the ability to solve every adversity you face, I can guarantee you that I would always be here to stand with you and never against you."

Taking another stride forward, I faltered as I saw him step closer.

He rubbed soothing circles on my back before he pulled me impossibly closer, my eyes making a pool out of his shoulder.

"In this space right here that we have made for each other, you can say anything and I will not abandon you. Unwrap the worst things you have done. Watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch." He promised, clutching impossibly closer.

I grasped into him like it was judgment day. I was desperate, touching him to make sure he was real. That he was here in front of me. Solid. And this wasn't just another dream I'd wake from.

As if sensing my desperation for reality, he pulled away slightly and took a good look on my face.

I didn't fear or cower from him. I let his eyes rake over me as he gently brushed a tear from the corner of my eyes, his own speaking more words than his lips ever could.

He was seeking a silent permission, and with a nod from me—that was all he needed to slowly lean in.

I had a million thoughts racing in my head as I thought about how I must taste like whiskey right now, or how I have never really learned how to kiss before. What if I'm terrible at it and he completely changes his mind?

Ridiculous? Yes, I know this. But the way my thoughts raced made me feel like I was on fire.

Before I can overthink any further, I hear an amused chuckle bubble from him as though he found my behavior endearing.

And he kissed me.

He kissed me with all the power he could muster—making up for all the years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds our lips hadn't been touching.

And finally, finally, it felt like my world was no longer burning around me.

But it lasted briefly with our bodies pressed together, savoring it desperately as I engraved the memory in my head. I couldn't get enough of him or his taste.

He tasted just like I expected to.

My senses filled with just him.

I pulled away first, panting heavily as I caught my breath.

Then my guilt sunk in, biting and clawing against my skin and reminding me of my place as a bystander.

Images of Marie's confession flashed before my mind and I felt sick to my stomach, absolutely sick and repulsed at my own reflection in his eyes.

Have I always been this revolting? This despicable?

I kissed the man my sister loved.

My sister, who has always been my only provider. My sister who worked hard all day ever since she was merely a child in order to raise me like her own. And this was how I repaid her?

I backed away slowly, shaking my head profusely as I saw a flash of hurt appear on his face.

"I'm. . . This is wrong. This is wrong." I repeated firmly, his brows furrowed in confusion and pain. It made my chest tighten and made it more difficult to breathe.

"What are you saying, M/n?" He asked desperately, helplessly.

I wavered for a second, wishing for nothing more than to simply pass away—torn between the decision of putting Marie first or following what I selfishly wanted all this time.

It felt traitorous. Marie was my only family left and after she finally confided in me of her feelings for Erwin, I knew she would only feel hatred for me if the truth came to light. And I'm not sure if I could ever live with myself after hurting my sister. My only sister.

I was indecisive, my own confusion causing frustration within myself as after all this time—I was still hiding behind a shell.

With a forceful glance into his eyes, I released words that I didn't know if I would regret more.

"I can't love you, Erwin. I'm sorry."