[Song Recommendation: Wildest Dreams — version by Madilyn Bailey]

Gael's grey eyes bore into Angela. She tried to read his gentle gaze, seeing thoughtfulness, intensity, yet also something she couldn't explain. It's like there's a wall that he put up and it's impossible to get in. She believed him, but something's missing, and it's making her feel as though she needed to put her guard up too. He'd never hurt her—not intentionally, at least—she knew that. But what was this clawing feeling she had that's scratching her chest?

Unknowingly, she placed her hand on his arm—the one that's holding her face. "I can see you. I can hear you say those words. But why does it feel like it's not really what you're saying?"

He lets out a sigh, pressing his forehead to hers. He found it incredibly hard to tell her—or keep from her—whatever he couldn't tell her. Gael was dangerous for her. And she didn't want to admit it, but he was the kind of danger who'd break her heart, and she'd probably just let him.

Seeing as he didn't respond, she pulled back and turned away from him, saying, "Forget it. It doesn't matter. I'm not expecting anything, Gael. I know whatever this is...it's...crazy. It always has been since the start."

Gael groaned as he caught her elbow and pulled her back to him, his warm hand holding hers while the other was on her nape. There was desperation in his expression, making her heart crumble when he asked, "Can't we just...live for tonight? Let's forget everything else for the moment and just... I just want to be with you tonight without thinking about anything else."

Angela clenched her hands. This was dangerous waters. You know that part of the ocean where it's deep and dark blue that it's almost black and you couldn't see what's at the bottom of it if you look from above it? That's how she felt at the moment. And yet, a crazy part of her wanted to jump into the abyss just to see what's waiting for her deep, deep down. A sparkly treasure? A sunken ship? A beautiful mermaid? A deadly monster? 'Who knows?' she thought.

She looked at him with thousands of questions in her head. He asked her to forget about everything else, and she wanted to say yes—even though it felt like she would be giving him permission to allow herself tonight and get hurt tomorrow. Angela should say no. Her mind was telling her to say no.

She nodded.

Because despite herself, she didn't want to be alone tonight. She wanted him here with her.

Gael heaved out a sigh of relief, kissed her forehead, and then curled his arms around her waist again, pulling her close.

"We're not having sex," Angela breathed against his shoulder, and he chuckled, his chest vibrating as he did.

"I'm not trying to get in your pants. Though I'd be lying if I told you I haven't thought of it. I have. All night. Right now, actually."

She gripped his shoulders from behind as she returned his hug. It wasn't hard to believe, given that she could feel him growing hard against her belly. Wanting him wasn't a question—it never was—but she didn't want that tonight. And it's also the only thing she wanted to stay away from. She had to stay in control of something because she'd hurt if she let everything lose right now. 'One at a time,' she thought.

"I promise I won't touch you...not unless you want me to," he whispered.

'God, I do. But not now. Please not tonight,' she said quietly in her head.

Gael stroked her head gently. "We don't have to do anything. We'll just talk...or whatever you want to do. I just want to be here."

Angela nodded. "Okay. Do you want to watch something?"

"Sure."

They went over to the sofa, and she gave him the remote to choose a movie while she grabbed the cups of coffee from the kitchen and a blanket from the closet. She disappeared into her bedroom for a while, and when she emerged, she had already changed into a white tank top and silk pajama pants in blush pink.

"What?" she asked as she plopped next to him on the sofa. His eyes were on her. They lingered on her chest—maybe because she wasn't wearing a bra and her nipples were jutting through the fabric.

The muscle in his jaw popped. "You're making this hard for me."

It's what she'd normally wear at home. "I'll go put on a thick jacket then."

Angela got up, but Gael quickly tugged her back down and pulled her to his side. He pressed the play button, and John Wick played on the screen.

"Oooh. Keanu was one of my celebrity crushes when I was younger—back from the Matrix days—apart from my all-time Chad Michael Murray, of course," she gushed, pulling her knees up, and his arm rested around her shoulder.

"Really. That's your type? He's old."

"Well, I don't have a crush on him now anymore. But he still looks fine even when he's aged."

"Who was the other douche you mentioned?" He whipped out his phone and began searching as she answered.

"Chad Michael Murray."

Google search displayed results. He clicked on some pictures and scoffed.

"What? He's cute!" she exclaimed.

"What's there to like? Dude only looks like a pretty boy."

Then like a schoolgirl, she blushed. "His eyes. they're so...intense." When the crease between his brows deepened and he continued to mutter remarks, she pushed his phone away and giggled. "Stop it. Who told you to search him up? Come on, let's just watch."

Once he put his phone on the side table, they focused on the T.V. again. Moments later, she wondered, "Do you have a celebrity crush?"

Gael thought about it for a second before he replied, "Natalie Portman."

Angela gasped and met his questioning gaze, his brow cocking at her reaction. She tsked. "I can't even hate it... I love her."

He chuckled, shaking his head. She cuddled in his side, his hand softly stroking her arm. They watched the movie and occasionally talked. Their movements were so natural as if they had done this a million times before. About an hour into the movie, her head began to bob. She fell asleep, her head landing on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he shifted them both until they were lying on the sofa. He pulled her against him, her back to his front, and he fixed the blanket on them. They remained in the same position until a few minutes later when she turned towards him and pressed her face to his chest.

Angela nuzzled into his warmth. She hugged him, and so did he. "You're wearing the shirt," she murmured.

"Mm. I didn't realize until I was on my way out."

She didn't comment on it anymore. His response told her he knew what the shirt was. She wrote a note and inserted it in the front pocket last night. She had purposely hung the shirt in his closet where he'd naturally grab it to wear. A quick glance to the side, and she could see the note was still in there. He kept it.

"Are you going home?" Angela probed.

Gael whispered above her head, "Do you want me to?"

She shook her head, bit her lip, and breathed as her eyes closed again. "Will you stay?"

Almost instantly, he tightened his embrace. "I'm not going anywhere, Angel."