CLOSED / @ifeelcelesticl
he had missed her. one fact. but if she missed him, he didn’t know. celeste was a beautiful woman, now gladly single and ready to take on the world. and him? he was well, a runaway from the british monarchy and a man who kept it all on the low. he didn’t know how to be something she missed, he didn’t know how to be something to her.
yet he was there. at the brunch, too nervous to approach her, but brave enough to come. he didn’t know how she had been, and frankly, he was sorry for being away for all these months ever since the last time they saw each other at ethan’s funeral, when he had tried to convince himself he was only a friend and a friend only.
but friends don’t look at each other the way they did.
approaching her in a corner, he tried to get the least bit of attention from them. the last thing he wanted was yet another media news about celeste’s new lover -- and he knew they had their sketchy, nosy little eyes on them. “i-- i need to talk to you,” he pleaded, looking her in the eye. “after all these months i just. . . i can’t let go, okay?”
