Wyatt had always prided himself on his ability to slip in and out of places unnoticed. Years of running with the wrong crowd had sharpened his skills in evasion and stealth, but here, in the familiar streets of West Hills, he found those skills suddenly failing him. He’d returned home with the intention of laying low, maybe even trying to find some semblance of peace after everything that had gone down. But the moment he’d heard that Rosalie was back in town too, things had gotten complicated.
Rosalie. The name alone stirred up a whirlwind of emotions inside him—guilt, longing, fear, hope. He hadn’t expected to ever cross paths with her again, and now that she was here, Wyatt was torn between wanting to see her more than anything and knowing he should probably keep his distance. After all, he wasn’t the same man she’d known. He’d done things since they’d last been together, things that weighed heavy on his conscience. How could he face her, knowing what he’d become?
So, he’d been walking the fine line between looking for her and avoiding her, hoping that fate might make the decision for him. He’d lingered around the places they used to go, always keeping an eye out but never quite letting himself get close enough to actually bump into her. It was a delicate dance, one that had gone surprisingly well—until now.
He was making his way down the market street, the sun casting long shadows as it dipped toward the horizon, when he felt a familiar pull. His instincts told him to take the next turn, to slip into an alley and disappear before she spotted him. But his heart? His heart had other ideas. It was that split-second hesitation, that one moment of indecision, that did him in.
Wyatt rounded a corner, eyes cast down as he tried to collect his thoughts, and suddenly there she was—Rosalie, right in front of him, as if she’d materialized out of thin air. He froze, his breath catching in his throat, every ounce of his carefully cultivated nonchalance shattering in an instant.
It was awkward, painfully so, and Wyatt knew it. He could feel the weight of everything he hadn’t said, everything he hadn’t done, hanging between them like a thick fog. All the rehearsed lines and practiced charm deserted him, leaving him standing there, hat in hand, just a man who wasn’t sure if he was worthy of the woman in front of him.
@Aelynthi Loraronna
Rosalie. The name alone stirred up a whirlwind of emotions inside him—guilt, longing, fear, hope. He hadn’t expected to ever cross paths with her again, and now that she was here, Wyatt was torn between wanting to see her more than anything and knowing he should probably keep his distance. After all, he wasn’t the same man she’d known. He’d done things since they’d last been together, things that weighed heavy on his conscience. How could he face her, knowing what he’d become?
So, he’d been walking the fine line between looking for her and avoiding her, hoping that fate might make the decision for him. He’d lingered around the places they used to go, always keeping an eye out but never quite letting himself get close enough to actually bump into her. It was a delicate dance, one that had gone surprisingly well—until now.
He was making his way down the market street, the sun casting long shadows as it dipped toward the horizon, when he felt a familiar pull. His instincts told him to take the next turn, to slip into an alley and disappear before she spotted him. But his heart? His heart had other ideas. It was that split-second hesitation, that one moment of indecision, that did him in.
Wyatt rounded a corner, eyes cast down as he tried to collect his thoughts, and suddenly there she was—Rosalie, right in front of him, as if she’d materialized out of thin air. He froze, his breath catching in his throat, every ounce of his carefully cultivated nonchalance shattering in an instant.
Well, I’ll be damned,he muttered, tipping his hat back slightly, his usual swagger faltering as he locked eyes with her.
Rosalie… I, uh, wasn’t expectin’ to see you here.
It was awkward, painfully so, and Wyatt knew it. He could feel the weight of everything he hadn’t said, everything he hadn’t done, hanging between them like a thick fog. All the rehearsed lines and practiced charm deserted him, leaving him standing there, hat in hand, just a man who wasn’t sure if he was worthy of the woman in front of him.
@Aelynthi Loraronna
08-17-2024, 01:56 PM
