Page 57 of Your Biggest Downfall
Seeing him for the first time after everything felt like stepping into a dream—one of those vivid, surreal moments where you’re not sure what’s real and what isn’t. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears as I took in the sight of him. It was overwhelming, a confusing mix of emotions swirling inside me. I was hesitant, almost afraid to move closer, yet I couldn’t deny the deep, aching curiosity that had been wearing on me. I needed to know if he was different, if the person standing there was the Austin I had once known—the one who made me laugh, who felt like home.
But more than anything, I wanted my friend back. The thought tugged at my heart, a longing so intense it nearly took my breath away. I missed the way we used to be, before everything got so complicated, before the lines blurred and everything fell apart. I missed the easy conversations, the way he could read my mood with just a glance. There was so much left unsaid between us.
For a brief moment, I considered turning around, retreating back to the safety of the cafe where Luna’s comforting presencewould shield me. But a quiet, insistent voice urged me forward. It was as if an invisible force was pushing me, guiding me toward him. So, cautiously, I took a deep breath and stepped off the curb, crossing the street toward my apartment where he was waiting.
As I walked, I kept my eyes fixed on the pavement, counting each step as if it could somehow ground me in the reality of the moment.
One, two, three . . .
The sounds of the city faded into the background, replaced by the pounding of my pulse in my ears. I focused on the rhythm of my feet hitting the ground, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach.
When I finally looked up, I was standing right in front of him, and the proximity practically had my breath stalling in my lungs. He slowly pulled off his sunglasses, revealing eyes that were so familiar yet so different. His beautiful blue eyes, once clouded with pain and weariness, now shone brightly, full of life. The dark, swollen redness that used to linger within them was gone, replaced by a healthy, vibrant glow. He looked... good. No, he looked better than good—he looked like the person I always hoped he could be.
I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice. A thousand things I wanted to say raced through my mind, but all I could manage was a whispered “Hi.”
24
austin
I didn’t expect her to be here. I had the driver wait and promised myself ten minutes before I barged in. I couldn’t call her like a normal person because I hadn’t been given my phone back yet. It was at my apartment, and I wanted to stop here first. Nova was the first person I needed to see. All I could hope for was that she got my letter and that she was proud of me.
When I saw her walking toward me, she took my breath away. She was in a pair of black jeans and a black cropped T-shirt with a black bag slung across her chest. I fixated on the sliver of skin between her pants and shirt before moving my eyes up toward her face. Her hair was straightened and a little longer than I remembered but still cropped slightly past her chin.
She walked with confidence and ease toward me. Her chin was high, and if anyone else was walking down the street, they’d see a powerful woman walking toward her target, but I saw the slight quiver of her lip. Only I was able to see the hesitancy as she took one more step toward me.
I was leaning casually against the wrought iron fence along her building. My feet were kicked out in front of me, and my hands were shoved in my pocket. I had on sunglasses anda baseball cap to conceal my identity in case any paps were around.
The moment she stopped, I was a goner. I’d made the right decision stopping here first.
I slid off my sunglasses so I’d be able to see her. She looked so good and healthy.
“Hi,” she whispered, the word getting caught in her throat.
I stepped closer until our bodies were a hair’s breadth apart. I reached out to brush her hair off her cheek, but paused for a moment.
“Hi,” I whispered, my fingers grazing her skin, and in that instant, I was lost.
My rough fingers met the smooth softness of her honey skin, and it felt like the world tilted beneath me. The contrast between us—her delicate warmth against the calloused texture of my hand—was almost too much. As I traced the gentle curve of her cheek, a jolt shot through me, igniting a fire deep within that I’d tried to keep under control for far too long. This fire, borne of desire, longing, and something more profound, flared up, refusing to be ignored.
It was as if time had folded in on itself, obliterating the weeks without her into nothing. All that mattered was this—her skin beneath my fingers, her presence overwhelming every one of my senses. The tension of those lost days began to unravel, giving way to raw, unfiltered emotion, emotion that had been building in the silence of our separation.
My fingers lingered on her cheek, the warmth of her skin seeping into me. Her scent, familiar and intoxicating, filled my lungs with each breath, deepening the ache in my chest that had settled there the moment we were forced apart. I was drowning in her, willingly sinking into the depths of all that she was, all that we were together.
My heart hammered against my rib cage. The memory of that night still haunted me, a whisper of the pain we’d endured, lurking at the edges of my consciousness. It was a bittersweet contrast—the joy of being near her again against the lingering ghost of the night at the bar.
As quickly as I’d touched her, I pulled away, fear and doubt creeping in. I hesitated, the weight of our past hanging between us like a shadow.
“Fuck it,” I muttered.
I closed the distance between us again, wrapping my arms around her waist. I pulled her tightly against me, the softness of her body molding to mine, her warmth filling every cold, empty corner of my soul.
Our kiss was inevitable, and my lips found hers with an urgency that left us both gasping, the intensity of our connection refusing to be ignored. But I didn’t pull back—I couldn’t—not now that I had her again. Instead, I deepened the kiss, pouring everything I’d felt in those long, lonely nights into the way my mouth moved against hers, the way my hands held her tightly, as if afraid she might disappear if I let go.
It was a kiss that spoke of everything we’d been through—of the pain, the longing—that had only grown stronger with time. The world around us fell away, leaving only the sensation of her lips against mine, the taste of her filling my senses, and the certainty that this was where I was meant to be—here, with her, in this moment.
Nova put her hands against my chest and pushed away. She was panting. “I—I—I...”
I shook my head, my voice trembling. “Don’t do this,” I begged, my eyes pleading with hers.
