Infatuation: Book One of the Infatuation Series

Chapter Ninety-Seven: This Is...

Charles' PoV:

You enter the apartment with the turn of the key, doing your best to stay unnoticed, but that's rather hard when your desperate Mother, your two brothers and their curious girls, who have made it very known that they are on y/n's side, and your nagging partner are behind the door.

The first few steps do in fact stay undetected, but then your Mom spots you. Fuck, you failed again, how on earth do you explain that to her.

Mom: Where's y/n?

You feel so stupid right now - Guilty more so, resentful too - but mainly stupid.

Charles: Hmm?

That was the world's most pathetic attempt at deflection. Who the fuck responds "Hmm" to a simple question?

Mom: Y/n. Charles, where's y/n?

Charles sighs: She ran off again.

She raises her eyebrows and urges you to tell her what happened.

Charles: We were doing okay, well she didn't really want to respond at first, but it was okay, you know...

She nods, as you lean against the kitchen's counter. She's waiting eagerly.

Charles: And then I got a little mad at her, because of the silent treatment -

Your Mom immediately exhales, closing her eyes for a moment, probably to imagine the damage that's done.

Mom: And then?

Charles: She snapped. She started demanding an apology, so I did the same, and she-

Mom interrupts: Did either one of you apologise?

Charles hesitantly: I mean...

Mom sternly: Did you, or did you not apologise, and did she apologise!?

Charles sighs: She apologised, but-

Mom: Please, for the love of God, tell me you at least said sorry for the madness you've caused - Both of you messed up. I know I was originally more upset with her mistakes, but yours also came at a cost, and I surely won't lose my only daughter based on your mistakes.

Charles embarrassed: I didn't.

The hurt in her eyes deepens. You did your best, you tried to stay calm, but she's your sister for Christ's sake, of course she knows how to exactly press your buttons and make you snap publicly.

Mom quietly: Shame on you. She still put in effort by apologising, and you didn't. What then?

Charles quietly: I said something I shouldn't have - Like really shouldn't have about Pierre and her.

Her eyes widen in anger. She's no longer on your side, like she was before. Her attempt at being Swiss, has moved her to y/n's side if she recognises it or not, but that's how it is.

Charles frightened: Y/n said she was done, and walked away.

She shakes her head, and immediately turns around. After a couple of seconds, she does the same as your sister did; Walking off. It's the fifth time today you are let to marinate in your own guilt and hate - It spreads from your head to your throat, then to your chest and stomach, and lastly to your knees.

When the paralysing effects have worn off at least a little, you return to your room. Elle immediately jumps up and is at it; Manipulation, Guilt-tripping, Priorities... You name the concept, she throws it at your head.

Ten minutes into this ordeal, you shake your head and quietly sigh. You point to the door.

Charles seriously: Leave. We are done.

She gasps hectically, only to start pleading with you - You ignore her, simply repeating that she should leave until she actually does... A full hour later. The hassle has raised some eyebrows in the apartment, but you left their questions unanswered. You head into the bathroom.

The water is piping hot, and you submerge yourself in it. How the fuck did everything escalate like this? It feels like you literally only got her the job, and then the problems started. Granted you were very overprotective, but what else should you have done when she shows up with massive hickies - Or when her and your best mate are clearly sleeping with each other - Manipulating you on both ends to always forgive the other person.

They sat in the back of your car together, cozied up, acting as if they hated each other, when they were probably enjoying the closeness - And that same day, they followed each other out - And all the times she got seemingly upset at him make sense now.

They flirted with each other right under your nose. She messed with Lando to pay you back, and in the meantime your best mate sat in that plane, advising you against the bet, because he knew she would get mad, and because they were already cuffed... And then the whole scratches on his back thing - Fucking hell.

You rub your hands over your face.

And then the party... Where he desperately kept an eye on her, wanted to be the one to fish her from the dancefloor, and how she only listened and gave in to him, when he asked for the key... How he slipped into the bathroom with her in it for water, and she didn't mind... And then waking up with the two of them sharing a bed-

Your heart beat increases, and your breath deepens in frustration. You're out of control.

The way he tried to intervene when you caught them - How you had to kick him out. How she acted afterwards, and the whole testing ordeal; You asked her to do so because you know Pierre's turbulent dating history, and the last thing she needs is to be stuck with some kind of disease or a more permanent thing, like a child at her young age.

All of it.

Your head starts tingling harshly, and your hands tremble, as you run the shampoo over your hair. Somehow you're not getting enough air right now - You sigh deeply, trying to change the desperate manner of inhalation that you're stuck in, only to realise it's too late. Relaxing or contracting your muscles doesn't stop the shaking of your hands, and any attempt at getting more air, goes unanswered.

This is a panic attack.