A Cold Encounter

Blake's POV

The sound of Emily's voice echoed through the office door of the gym, reaching my ears as I went about my business. Lizzy, always one to stir up trouble, seemed to enjoy taunting her, making it clear that I had no interest in seeing her. And truth be told, she wasn't entirely wrong. I had grown tired of people walking out on me, only to expect a warm welcome back once things settled down in their twisted minds.

"Can I please see Blake?" Emily's voice pleaded, but Lizzy stood her ground, keeping her on the other side of the door.

"It's okay, Lizzy," I finally intervened, opening the door to face Emily.

"Blake, you need to train, you can't..." she began to say, but I raised my hand, signalling for her to back off. I wasn't in the mood for her to tell me what I should or shouldn't do.

"Hey," Emily said softly, her voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty as Lizzy finally took the hint and retreated to the other side of the gym.

"Hey," I greeted her, my tone guarded. I couldn't deny the flicker of emotion that lit up inside me at the sight of her, but I refused to let it show.

"Can we talk?" she asked, her eyes pleading. I nodded, silently agreeing to her request, and motioned for her to follow me outside the gym.

As we stepped into the crisp, cold air, I couldn't help but feel that the atmosphere mirrored the state of everyone in my life - distant and frigid. I leaned against the brick wall, crossed my arms over my chest, and waited for her to speak. The silence between us was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved fucking feelings.

I anxiously waited for her to break the deafening silence that had settled between us. Her eyes searched mine, as if she was desperately trying to find the right words to say. Minutes turned into eternity, and I couldn't bear the weight of the unspoken words any longer.

"So?" I finally mustered the courage to speak, shattering the stillness that surrounded us. My voice trembles.

"It's been three weeks, Blake," Emily replied, her tone filled with a hint of disappointment. "Every time I try to reach out, your voicemail picks up, and my messages go unanswered."

Her words stung like a slap to the face. How could she act as if nothing had happened in that parking lot three weeks ago? I felt my anger rising, and I struggled to keep my emotions in check.

"What did you expect, Emily?" I retorted, my voice tinged with bitterness. "That I would meekly follow you after you turned your back on me?"

Her eyes, once soft and gentle, transformed into a fiery rage within seconds. Tears began to well up, glistening in the corners of her eyes. The sight of her pain fueled my own frustration.

"I walked away from you?" she choked out, her voice trembling with disbelief. "Blake, are you even listening to yourself?"

The words hung heavily in the air as I stood against the cold, unforgiving brick wall. My heart raced, anger coursing through my veins as I confronted her. "Yes, you fucking walked away," I said with a defensive tone, my voice filled with frustration.

Her eyes met mine, a mix of hurt and anger flashing across her face. "Blake, I never walked away from you. Don't you get it? You walked away when you were supposed to stay. You walked out on me when your mother nearly died," she shouted, her voice echoing through the empty yeard. The onlookers from the gym windows turned their heads, curiosity piqued by our heated exchange.

I grabbed her arm and guided her around the corner of the gym, away from prying eyes. "Can you keep it down?" I asked, my voice softer now as I attempted to diffuse the tension.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she pulled away from my grip. "What, you're trying to hide me now?" she snapped, her frustration evident.

"I never tried to fucking hide you. I panicked, okay? What was I supposed to do? Fuck Emily. I'm sorry I left you with my mother, but you walked away from me when I tried to apologize. I know it was wrong of me, and I've been beating myself up over it, but you still fucking walked away."

The weight of my words hung in the air, the silence enveloping us as we stood there, breathing heavily. Emotions clashed within us, a whirlwind of anger, hurt, and regret. It was a battle that had been brewing for far too long, and now it had finally erupted into this explosive confrontation.

"Why?" her voice trembled, her words barely audible. I could see the pain etched on her face, and it tore at my heart.

"Why what?" I responded, my confusion evident in my voice. I couldn't decipher what she meant by her question.

"Why did you never return my calls?" she asked, her gaze fixated on the floor. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over with each blink. I could sense the weight of her emotions, the vulnerability she was displaying.

I paused for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. I knew deep down that I owed her an explanation, but I hadn't fully comprehended the impact of my silence until that very moment.

"I can't do this anymore," I finally confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. She looked up at me, searching for understanding.

"I can't keep beating myself up for the shit my parents did," I continued, feeling the weight of my words pressing against my chest. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry that I feel like dying just saying the words."

Her eyes widened, a mixture of shock and concern. She reached out to touch my face, but I pulled her closer instead, craving the comfort of her presence. I pressed my lips gently against her forehead, conveying a sense of love and reassurance.

"I was so angry," my voice filled with regret. "Seeing you walk away, I was bitter, and I couldn't handle the rejection."

Tears streamed down her face as she desperately tried to speak, to defend herself against my accusations. But I couldn't bear to hear her words. Instead, I kissed her passionately, silencing her protests with my love and longing.

"I know, I know all of this,"  I lifted her up from the floor, my arms wrapping around her tightly, as if trying to protect her from the world. I pushed her gently against the cold brick wall, my eyes locked with hers, trying to convey the depth of my emotions.

"You still have to tell me why?" she whispered, my head resting against her forehead. Our eyes remained locked, refusing to let go of each other.

"I just told you," I replied, but she shook her head slightly.

"No, you told me how you felt, but you never explained why you never returned my calls," she said, her voice filled withpain. Gently, I released my embrace and lowered her back to the ground, our bodies still inches apart.

She took a deep breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I needed to feel angry," I finally revealed, my voice barely above a whisper. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, contrasting with the tears streaming down her soft, beautiful face.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, gathering her thoughts. When she opened them again, her gaze met mine.

"I wanted to avoid the guilt I felt for leaving you with my mother," I confessed, my voice laced with remorse. "Instead of facing that guilt, I focused on you walking away from me," I admitted to her.

"I never walked away. I just needed time," she said standing closer on her toes to reach me.

Her words hit me like a tidal wave, crashing against the shores of my understanding.

"I've missed you," she whispered into my mouth.

As I listened to her words, a flood of emotions washed over me. Anger, hurt, and confusion battled against the lingering love I still held for her. It was a tumultuous storm raging within me, threatening to consume fucking everything in its path.

Gently, I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her fragile frame. The warmth of our embrace provided a temporary respite from the storm brewing inside me.

"I wish I never took the time to learn the details," I said exactly the thoughts that whispered through my mind as I held her in my arms, feeling the weight of my emotions threatens to consume me. It was impossible to resist the overwhelming desire to keep her close, even if it meant suffocating myself in the process.

"What details?" she inquired, her gentle touch on my cheeks pulling my face to meet her gaze.

I kissed her neck softly before responding. "Every little detail," I confessed, my lips brushing against her skin. "The way you scrunch your face when you're frustrated, the way your eyes dance when you speak, and the way your body trembles when I touch you." As I spoke, my hands moved underneath her shirt, cupping her breasts and pulling her closer with my other hand. I could feel her breath quicken as I continued to whisper in her ear.

"Blake!" she moaned, clearly unable to resist the sensations coursing through her. But I couldn't stop. I needed her to understand the depth of my feelings and my fear of losing her.

"I'm not done," I murmured softly, my lips still exploring every inch of her neck and cheeks.

"Do you feel that?" I asked, my hand edging closer underneath her skirt. Her eyes fluttered shut in response, her body trembling as the cold air mingled with the heat we always shared. It was as if the fire between us had been ignited once again.

"Em?" I called out when she didn't respond to my touch.

She simply shook her head, her inability to form words a testament to the overwhelming sensations she was experiencing. With my fingers pulling her panties to the side, I gently slid one into her, causing her to gasp for air. I quickly scanned our surroundings, ensuring that we were hidden from prying eyes in the alley behind the gym.

"Blake," Emily whispered, her voice barely audible amidst the chaos of our desires.

"Tell me how you feel," I pleaded, desperate for her to find her voice amidst the whirlwind of emotions that engulfed us.

"I... how?" she stammered, her ineptitude to articulate her feelings mirroring my own struggle. I couldn't stop myself. I wanted her to feel everything—the intensity of my emotions, the longing I had endured for the past three weeks, and the fucking regret I harbored for squandering the time we could have spent together.