He sat on the bed next to her, his arm touching her bare leg. She could feel his breath hitch in his throat, and knew he was going to say something important.
"You should have left me there, Laney."
Her head jerked up, and she stared in astonishment in his distant blue eyes.
"Leave you? Why would I leave you? You were unconscious, Charlie."
He snorted, the irate sound breaking the heavy silence in the room.
"Do you even love me?" He asked, his mouth drooping.
Delaney searched his face, the desperation in his eyes growing with each passing second. She knew it was a catch-22 if she said she did or didn't.
"Of course I love you, Charlie," she chocked out, touching his rough cheek. It was flaming hot, as if he had a fever.
"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!" He burst out angrily, jumping out of her reach. He reached for the Tiffany lamp on her nightstand, and for a split moment, her intuition rationalized he would throw it at her.
Instead, he hurled it at the furthest wall, just missing the window. Shards of stained glass bounced onto the bed and landed around her knees.
She stared at her blanket, not able to look at him now. He was standing in the corner by the bathroom, bare chest heaving, glaring at her. His eyes were glassy and burning. She could feel them burning onto her skin.
"You. Don't. Love. Me." He said the words slowly, deliberately, his voice cracking. He backed into the corner, as far away from her as possible. "You. Are. Lying. No one has ever..."
His shoulders shuddered, and he sagged onto the floor. "No one has ever loved me before," he whispered, burying his head into his hands. His voice broke her heart.
Delaney's eyes filled with tears. She slid off the bed, not caring when a piece of glass snagged the back of her leg, and tiptoed over to the man so lost in his own misery. She knelt down in front of him, grasping onto his shaking hands, and tried to pry them off of his face so she could look at him.
He resisted. His hands remained slated in front of his eyes like a gate of protection.
"Charlie."
He didn't move. Even his legs stopped twitching.
"Charlie Pace. Look at me." She leaned in to him as close as she dared.
"No.", he whispered, defeated. "I'll fail. I always fail." His chin trembled as she tried again to remove his hands.
"Fail at what?" Delaney grabbed hold of his stare and held his chin.
"You. I'll fail you. I already have."
She let out a whoosh of breath she didn't even know she was holding.
"You made a mistake. I make mistakes."
He stared at her, his eyes trying to focus. "You don't make mistakes. You can't. You're...perfect."
She knew it was inappropriate, but she laughed. Bitterly.
"I'm not perfect, Charlie."
He touched her chin, now making eye contact. "Yes, you are."
The tears made way down her face, and at that moment, she fell apart, grasping at his chest, and shuddering with sobs. He tightened his arms around her protectively.
"Say it again, Laney. Please."
She was centimeters away from his face, the face she knew so well. His eyes seemed to hold hope for the first time.
"I love you, Charlie."
She leaned in even more, wanting to kiss him, but still unsure of his reaction.
"Bloody hell," she breathed, and pressed her mouth against his, tasting the alcohol, but not caring anymore. She did love him. And she knew now that he loved her.