Chapter Ninety-Six: That's Cool

                                    

                                          
y/n's PoV:
y/n sighs: What do you want out of this, hm? Why don't you just let it be - The bridges are burned, no one gives a crap anymore, so just do me the courtesy and let's go home. 
He blankly stares at you, still holding onto you. 

Charles quietly: I still give a crap.
He cares so much that he totally defended you last night at dinner. Great way of showing that you still give a crap. 

y/n sighs: Charles-
Charles: No, seriously. I do. I want to figure this out right now. 
You can't help but chuckle.

Charles angrily: What!?
y/n chuckles: You do see the irony, don't you?
Charles: Quit it. Let's figure this out-

y/n sternly: "Figure this out"? Okay... Then apologise for last night. 
Charles angrily: You're kidding-

y/n sighs: So you don't want to figure it out after all, huh?
Charles sighs: Don't twist the situation, this isn't about last night-

y/n chuckles: Oh sure it isn't... It's totally not about the insults and bullshit I had to take from that girlfriend of yours... And it's totally not about the death stares I received from the two of you all day long on the boat... And it's totally not about all the controlling behaviour, or the guilt-tripping, or manipulating... And it really isn't about all the bursts of anger on your end - I told you I was sorry-

Charles gasps: When did you apologise?
y/n: I don't even know anymore - I did too often. 
Charles: I don't think you meant it, if you did. 

You stare right at him, unable to process his words. You try to walk away, but he pulls you back. 
Charles: Don't fucking run away like you did last night. If you apologised so "often" already, then go for it, apologise again, and mean it, and then I'll apologise too. Go on...

His tone doesn't sit right with you. 
y/n: I want to go home Charles. I don't want to do this in public.
Charles angrily: No. I want to do this now though. Apologise!

You restate your desire to go home a handful of times, only to be met with alterations of his previous response. You cave - Fine. 

y/n: Sorry for getting with Pierre. 
His eyes fixate on you - He's unsatisfied. 
Charles: Is that all? That's your so-called apology?

y/n: What more do you want? I apologised already, this is a repeat. I told you I want to go home. 
Charles grunts: Oh my God. 
Silence settles down again, as some people pass by. 

Charles: Do it again. 
y/n chuckles: You're kidding right?
Charles angrily: Do. It. Again. 

This isn't even meeting him half way. You should've denied your Mom's request for this, and returned to Pierre's hotel room. 
y/n: I'm not doing it again, I said what I said. 
Charles angrily: Now. 

y/n fed up: Look, I don't know what else to say. I flirted, fucked and got together with your best friend. I'm sorry it was Pierre and not some person you don't care about. Nothing changes though. 

His face turns red. Were you incredibly blunt and provocative, yeah... Are you over this though? Also yeah. 
Charles: Fucking hell. Do you have any ounce of shame in you!?

y/n annoyingly: You know what Charles, I'm tired of this. I told you, I was sorry, but I'm not continuing on with this unnecessary bullshit with you. I told you, the bridges are burned, and for someone who supposedly wants to fix things, and straighten our friendship out, I don't think that's what you really want. If you did, you wouldn't be like this. 

Charles: I-
y/n annoyed: No, I'm speaking now. I apologised, I did your stupid fucking STD and pregnancy test, and I tried to mend things more times than I should've. I continued to try, regardless of everything, but I've reached my limit. I am fucking happy with Pierre. He makes me happy and he's been more supportive than any one of you during this whole thing-

Charles gasps: How does a guy who publicly admits to fucking you too deep make you happy-
Why the fuck would he bring this up now of all times?
y/n hissing: Shut the fuck up. I am so done. 

You storm off, redirecting your destination from your home, to Pierre's place. You call him on your way over and you struggle to hold back the tears. When you finally reach his room, and he swings it open in anticipation of your arrival, you rush into his arms. 

Pierre quietly: It's okay, it's okay- I've got you ma chérie.
He closes the door, and tightly holds you. 
y/n sobs: I am done- With- Trying-

His smell wraps around you, his hand strokes over your hair, and he gives you a moment. 
Pierre whispers: That's cool - If you're done, you're done. 

It's time to wrap this shit up, and heal on your own, far away from your big brother.