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Thanks for your love. Two chapters in two days? I must really love you guys haha. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Castle and For Lovers Only are not mine :/
[One Phone Call Can Change Everything]
All along the street, it seemed to him that he saw only lovers, couples strolling arm in arm, a woman with her head on a man's shoulder. They were at ease with one another, having no need to speak, just enjoying the surroundings. Each one he passed made him more irritable, and made him walk faster.
It was a relief when he finally got to his hotel.
All those couples did was remind him that he was alone. All those couples did was remind him of her.
God, that woman.
He stepped on the elevator, pressed the button for his floor, and waited as it lifted him up. All he could see was her. Not the elevator doors in front of him, but her.
He thought of the way her hair cascaded down her back in soft, chocolate brown curls and how smooth it was to the touch. The way she held herself, confidence and strength pouring out of her with each stride in her step. The way her entire face lit up when she laughed, crinkles forming at the edge of her eyes and a smile that made his heart stop completely.
And the way her forest green eyes sparkled in the light, and how they had specs of brown flickering in them depending on how she was feeling that day.
Her eyes were gorgeous, to put it simply. No other word for them.
Rick leaned his back against the wall of the lift, shutting his eyes closed as he thought about her, about their time together. Rick was thankful he was alone, otherwise, who knows who would have seen him break down. He slid down the wall until he crumpled on the floor. Bringing his legs up to his chest, he rested his cheek on his knees, and took in a deep breath.
He needed to get a grip. It was a long time ago, he needed to get over it. Get over her.
But he couldn't...
She was the one who got away, the one who broke his heart all those years ago. She had claimed the two of them weren't going to work because they came from two separate worlds and that their relationship didn't make sense on paper. She was scared- scared of ruining what they had. And he'd tried fighting for her– for them– but in the end, he realized he had to let her go.
Since then, no other woman has captured his heart the way she did. No other woman could live up to her. No other woman was her.
She broke his heart, crushed it and damaged it forever. His love for her ran skin deep, through the blood that coursed through his veins. And he vowed to never let himself feel that way for another woman ever again. It was just too painful.
Yet, now that she was on his mind again, he couldn't seem to stop thinking about her. It'd been three years. Three years since he last saw her, spoke to her, held her, kissed her.
And now, here she was running into him in Paris of all places. She was here, and she was just as beautiful as before, if not even more so. The need and want to see her again, talk with her, and just be with her thundered low in his gut, her presence awakening the man who he'd thought would never wake again. The man who he was before...
The weight of the piece of paper with her phone numbers on it felt heavy in his pant pocket, like it was taunting him. She wanted him to call her so they could catch up, talk about the past three years. And he wasn't sure what to do. The paper became heavier and heavier as it rested in his pocket, its presence making his heart pound loudly in his chest.
The elevator suddenly let out a ding, signaling he arrived on his floor. Slowly standing up, he stepped off the lift and walked down the vacant hallway. Unlocking his hotel room, he dropped his things in the foyer before trudging over to the bed. Sighing as soon as his back hit the mattress, he tried to shake her out of his head, but it wasn't working.
He needed to do something– anything– to get that woman out of his thoughts. So he reached over to the bedside, snatched the telephone only to dial a number he knew by heart.
Pick up, he thought. Pick up.
After two more rings, he heard a distinct click and then a "Hello?"
Feeling a smile tug at the corners of his lips, he simply said, "Hey, Pumpkin."
Kate's mind was elsewhere. She may have been there physically, bodily, but her mind wasn't. Her thoughts were all over the place. She thought about her life back home, and, more often than not, a certain man with blue eyes invaded her thoughts. She had forced herself to put him behind her a long time ago.
But there he was, popping up again and again.
She still couldn't believe she'd run into him. Many questions began to form in her brain, a majority of them having to do with Rick, his family, work, and if he was single or not. Shaking her head, she let out a breath and continued to walk along the streets of Paris, trying as hard as she could to not think of him or that dazzling smile of his.
Kate couldn't help it though. When she first saw him, all of those emotions and feelings from the last time bubbled low in her belly. And, if she was being honest with herself, made her sick. She'd broken his heart, and ever since then she hasn't opened herself up to anyone.
She was broken, the passing of her father took a heavy toll on her heart and she vowed to never allow herself to love someone or let them love her back, because if she didn't then it wouldn't hurt so much to lose them. The more you loved someone, then the harder it would be to see them go; her mother and father were prime examples of that. The ones we love leave us.
That's why she distanced herself from her coworkers and friends. She couldn't bear the fact that they could be in her life one day and gone the next.
Letting out a shaky breath, she entered her hotel. She decided to take the stairs rather than the elevator; it'd allow her to get to her room faster. With each step by sluggish step, Kate's mind drifted back to the steps of Montmartre, specifically to Rick.
God. He looked so handsome today.
She thought of the way his hair flopped over his forehead, like he'd run a hand through his hair several times and the strands had no where to go but over his forehead. There were a few more lines that creased his features, but it made him all the more rugged. He was more muscular and stronger than she ever remembered him being, his body more firm and solid.
Kate let out a smile when she recollected the way his entire face lit up when he laughed, lines forming at the edge of his eyes and a smug, sideways grin that made her heart stop completely.
But his eyes. His eyes were the exact same. Those pools of blue sparkled under the bright sun, deepening the color and giving it that sea blue color she loved.
As she reached her floor, Kate opened the service door and began to walk down the hall to her room. Soon realizing she needed a key to open the door, she perused through her purse in search of the damn thing. Where the hell could it–?
Ah, there it was.
Sliding the metal key into the lock, she twisted it, and the telltale sound of the tumblers falling into place echoed in her ears. She entered the suite, heading straight for the bedroom where she slumped back first onto the bed, sinking into the blissfully soft mattress. Eyes cast upward at the ceiling; Kate didn't see the ceiling at all. She saw Rick. Mentally cursing at herself, she began to regret giving him her phone number.
What if he never called? What if he did?
These, and many more questions invaded her thoughts. She needed to get a grip, find something else to ponder over, but she couldn't seem to do it. No matter where her brain went, he was there.
Sitting up, she found herself staring at the hotel telephone on the bedside table, waiting for it to ring. She desperately wanted him to call, even if it was to say he couldn't do lunch with her. All she wanted was to hear his voice once more.
Stupid phone. It was mocking her.
After hanging up with his daughter, Rick felt more at ease than he had been before. But that easiness soon vanished, and in its placed settled anxiety.
The piece of paper with the digits scribbled on it sat perched on his comforter while he paced nervously in front of the bed. Hands sweating, he stared at the paper with hundreds of questions stacking up in his mind.
Should he not call her? Or should he?
God. What if she doesn't answer? What if she does?
This was harder than he'd originally thought.
Taking a deep breath, he mustered up enough courage and picked up his cell phone. But his thumb hovered over the keypad. That courage quickly left his body, the anxiety coming back in full force.
Which number should he dial? Her cell phone? Or her hotel?
Which one would she be more likely to answer?
He huffed out a frustrated growl and began pacing again.
A beep from her cell phone woke Kate up from her little nap, causing the woman to shoot straight up and stare down at the phone on the bedside table.
Someone just tried calling her.
Picking up the phone, she saw it wasn't a number she recognized. Was it him? Getting ready to call the number back, she became frightened when her hotel phone started ringing. But she didn't answer it right away.
It had to be him. Who else could it be?
With her hand suspended over the phone, she took a deep breath before picking up the receiver and bringing it to her face.
"He-hello?"
Silence greeted the other end, but not for long. "Kate? It's me. Uh, Castle..." He let out a timid chuckle. "I was just– just calling about your invitation to lunch?" It sounded more like a question than a statement.
Good, he was nervous. So was she. Didn't make her feel as...odd?
"Right," she started, thumb and fore fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as she shut her eyes in thought. "Lunch. Well, how does tomorrow sound? Noon at the Brasserie Mollard?"
The response was almost immediate. "Perfect."
Another awkward silence, much like the one earlier, enveloped them. Neither knew what to say.
Kate could hear him clear his throat. "Okay. Until tomorrow, Beckett."
"Bye, Castle."
The line disconnected.
There you go!
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