Chapter 98 A different feeling
Annabel opened her eyes a little.
There was a glimmer of moonlight to break the darkness of the room. She blinked and as her eyesight gradually improved a face emerged.
Fred. With his face a landscape of exquisite sharp shadows, he stood inches away from her.
His wide eyes conveyed a mixture of surprise and an unidentified emotion. A humming and stretching silence pervaded the air.
Her thoughts were a sleepy haze as she simply gazed at him.
Then he drew back after a long moment. He stood up straight making slow methodical movements as he backed away.
He made a nervous motion she recognized—running a hand through his hair.
“I just wanted to wipe something off your face.” He said awkwardly.
His voice was a low murmur.
With the last remnants of sleep clinging to her, Annabel rubbed her eyes. Her head felt hazy.
As she surveyed her room, the specifics gradually returned to her attention. The pictures, the bookshelf and the easel.
The mattress had been pulled up to her chin as she lay in bed. The last thing she remembered was the couch and how comfortable it was to sink into its cushions.
A groggy smile appeared on her face as she gazed up at him.
“Thank you for bringing me to my room.”She said.
With a jerky motion he nodded. He retreated a step, then another. Their distance increased.
With gentle footsteps on the carpet, he turned and moved toward the door. He got to the door, opened it and left. She was left in the dark when the door behind him clicked shut.
She lay there for a long time, the picture of his face playing over and over in her head. She had never noticed the depth in his eyes.
She couldn't explain the weird fluttering sensation that settled in her chest.
With the warmth acting as a reassuring weight she tightened the mattress and fell back asleep, a new type of dream starting to take shape.
Fred's heart pounded as he descended the short set of stairs. He thought he was a fool.
He was a full-fledged idiot.
The cool wood of the front door contrasted sharply with the heat of his skin as he leaned against it after closing it behind him.
He let out a low guttural sigh of frustration as he cursed. He had been so close. What was he doing?
He had come very close to kissing her and severing their silent separation. She had woken up just as he was about to make that leap.
He was also in a panic. In response to his own desires, he had backed off acting like a coward.
He was unable to meet her gaze. He was unable to be truthful with her. Without her,, the living room felt large and empty as he pushed himself off the door and entered.
His desire was so great that it nearly hurt his heart. His desire was to go back to her room. He desired to return and complete his initial task.
He desired to kiss her until the sun rose and the moon disappeared until all of his uncertainties, anxieties and unspoken lies were extinguished.
In the silent apartment, his footsteps created a soft rhythm as he paced the space.
He felt like a bigger fool the more he considered it. A stupid fool who makes mistakes.
He had desired to give her a kiss. It was more of a desire than he had had for a long time. And he had allowed her to awaken.
Like a deer caught in headlights, he had retreated. He could still picture her wide dark eyes and the bewildered expression on her face.
He had come across as a creep, a man hovering over a sleeping woman. What was she thinking?
He was—completely and utterly—an idiot. He felt a sharp pang of regret. He ought to have told her the truth. He ought to have told her how he felt while he was still there.
He was aware that he was too damaged for her and that his past had tarnished him to ever be what she deserved but what would that have accomplished?
Although he could grant her a fleeting moment of happiness, he could never provide her with eternal bliss.
She wasn't treated fairly. Despite his heart’s cries for her he had to keep his distance.
As a punishment for the man he once was, he exiled himself.
He was constantly reminded of the person he had failed to become and the one he aspired to be when he looked at her.
The man who didn't hesitate to show vulnerability, love or honesty. The closer she got to him the more he feared she would realize he was a phony.
He sensed her presence in the apartment almost like a ghost of her laughter and a subtle hint of her perfume.
This was something he had to fight. He couldn't let her be destroyed by his desire for her.
The familiar glow of the city lights was a comfort in the darkness as he went to the window and gazed out.
He was extremely lonely.
Despite being very close to Annabel, he was still very far away. He found it more difficult to leave her the closer he got.
He didn't want to think about the icy, gloomy emptiness that would be the future without her.
But he was unable to approach too closely. He was unable to let her in. He couldn't take the chance that she would figure out everything.
He had to make sure she didn't hate him.
Her disdain and the disgusted expression on her face made me feel so afraid that it nearly hurt.
The urge to be with her and the fear of losing her were the two opposing forces that held him captive.
And he had no idea which was more powerful. He only knew he was alone…and that he was a fool.