His Obsession POV
"What are you doing here?" I croaked, my voice raw from sleep and leftover tears. "Please, leave my room." I rubbed my eyes, glancing at the clock. It was 3 AM.
"Why are you like this?" Denver's voice was thick with emotion, but he stood rooted to his spot beside my bed.
"What? I'm sleepy. And…" I began, but he cut me off.
"You know what I'm talking about. I know you were crying after you left. I could read it in your face."
"Yeah, so what? Everyone cries. It's nothing special." I tried to sound indifferent.
"But you're special," he breathed out. "You're special to me, and I can't stand seeing you like this."
His words left me speechless. Denver had never spoken to me this way before.
He stayed there, unmoving, and fear gripped me. If my parents heard him, they'd blame me, like I was the one inviting him to my bedroom.
"Look, I don't know what you're saying, but stop. You don't know my parents. They'll kill me if they find out you're here. I can't even imagine..." I sat up straight, running a hand through my hair.
"They're all asleep. I couldn't sleep, so I came to check on you. Seems like I woke you up. Why are you so worried?" He scratched the back of his head, looking almost innocent.
"Are you crazy? Did you sniff salt? Do you even know what you're saying? And you tell me not to worry? Have you seen how my parents treat me? Don't act like you don't know—you lived with us until you got into university. Do you think they'll let this happen?"
"Do you want to let this happen?" His voice softened, and I didn't know what to say.
"Hm?" he prompted again after a moment of silence.
Gathering courage, I finally spoke, "I don't know what I really want. About you? You used to hate me. Since when did you develop feelings for me?"
"Hate you? What are you saying?" His tone was incredulous. "You were my childhood love, Cal. I never hated you." He sat on the edge of the bed, close enough for me to see the hurt in his eyes.
"What? Didn't you…?" I started, memories flooding back. "You would hit me, make fun of me like I was some stupid girl. You would scare me. I remember when you threw that fake lizard at me… Oh God, that was terrib—"
"I loved you, Calista," he interrupted, his voice earnest. "I never intentionally hurt you or caused you pain that you couldn't heal from. I would never do that to you. And now, seeing you after so long, I realize moving away didn't help. I could never forget about you."
He looked at me, his eyes reflecting the moonlight streaming in through the window.
The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken words and emotions.
He was right. He never inflicted the kind of pain that made me cry or pushed me to the brink of self-harm. As the dots started connecting, I realized he had always shown a level of care, especially when we were alone.
I remembered a time when he moved in with us, He was 16 and I was 11.
A day when we were in a grove of pecan trees, and I was eyeing the nuts. Suddenly, Denver came from behind, effortlessly climbing the tree.
He managed to gather four or five pecans, but the branch was too thin, and it snapped, sending him tumbling to the ground.
I rushed over to him, panicked. "Are you crazy? You shouldn't have done that! What were you thinking?" I started my rant, but he just held out his hand, offering me the pecans.
"Didn't you want these?" he asked, his voice calm despite the fall.
"Yeah, but I didn't ask you to—" He cut me off, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Well, enjoy them. I've got a match to finish." With that, he ran off to join his friends, leaving me standing there, speechless.
"You know what it's like," I said, pulling myself back to the present. "I can't trust anybody at this stage of my life."
"So you think I'll break your heart? You think I don't care about your feelings?" he asked, hurt evident in his eyes.
"I never thought you liked me," I admitted. "Sometimes, I got hints, but I always convinced myself it was just my imagination."
"No, I love you! Oh Cal, you're so silly," he said, shaking his head. "Instead of paying attention to my actions, you should have looked into my eyes. You would have known." He winked, and despite myself, I smiled at his charm.
"Did you eat properly at dinner?" His tone grew serious.
"Yeah, I did, Mr. Worried," I teased him playfully.
He reached into the pocket of his trousers, clearly a pair borrowed from my father. My mother must have offered them to him to sleep in. He pulled out a small wrapped object and handed it to me.
"Here, this is for you." I looked at him questioningly.
"What? It's not poison! You can trust me, Jesus," he said, running a hand over his face.
"Stop being dramatic. I haven't even seen it yet."
There it was, my favourite chocolate. He had gotten it for me.
"Oh wow, you still remember I love this?"
========================
"How could I forget?" His eyes were sincere, and I felt a flutter in my chest.
"Um, thank you." I felt shy under his gaze.
"I thought of you as my brother, though."
"You're not my blood, so we're not brother and sister. Don't call me that again," he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
"Yeah, Mr. Grumpy. I get it." I replied, opening the chocolate.
"Mmm, it's so good," I moaned, savoring the taste.
He watched me, his pupils dilating, an intensity in his gaze that didn't go unnoticed.
"Calista, I've always cared for you," he said softly, pulling himself closer to me.
I looked up at him, my heart pounding. "Denver, I—"
He gently cupped my face, his thumb brushing away a few strands of hair.
"Shush, just let me," he breathed, his deep voice resonating through my ears. My heart thumped loudly, and I feared I might have a cardiac arrest right there.
His face was millimetres away from mine, his breath warm against my lips. I froze, unsure of what to do.
Should I push him away?
Should I let this happen?
His lips grazed mine, and the world blurred. I couldn't bring myself to stop him. I had never been kissed before—this was my first time, and I never expected it to happen like this with someone so unexpected.
I had always imagined saving my first kiss for someone I was madly in love with, someone who loved me unconditionally. But this wasn't it. I couldn't let it happen. I had to stop it before it went too far.
"Look, sto—" My words were muffled as his tongue plunged into my mouth, fierce and demanding. It wasn't sweet; it was intense.
I stifled a moan and tried to push him away, but he was stronger, and he didn't budge an inch.
He kissed me like a man starved, and I had no idea how to respond. It wasn't a slow, sweet kiss like in the movies; it was harsh and forceful.
"Mhmm, you're so good," he groaned, while I struggled to keep up.
I was worried that pushing him away would hurt his feelings. He had been nothing but kind to me, even if I hadn't always seen it.
But this was wrong. Calista, this isn't right. You didn't consent to this. The voice nagged into my brain.
He moaned into my mouth, "Umm, girl, you're sweet," his voice raspy as he broke the kiss to catch his breath.
Before he could kiss me again, I pressed my hands against his chest.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.
"Uh, nothing. I think we should take things slow. I'm not ready for all of this yet," I said, looking down, embarrassed.
"Okay, I understand. Whenever you feel ready," he replied, his tone flat, and I knew my action had hurt him.
Before I could say anything else, he got up from my bed and moved towards the door.
Turning back to face me, he said, "Hey, get some sleep, alright? I don't think I'll get any, but if you need me, just let me know."
As he left, I sat there, heart still racing, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
The taste of chocolate lingered on my lips, mingling with the taste of his kiss, leaving me confused and conflicted.
I had just lost my first kiss to my cousin!