Crave Me; Big Brother

Rain. I have devoted every fiber of my essence to Colt Walden, poured every ounce of my heart into him since high school, when his easy grin first pulled me in during art class. He was everything back then, the guy who made my world spin with a single look. College soon kept us tangled in late-night study sessions that turned into something more, and even after we graduated, the pattern stuck. Three breakups already, each one ripping me apart. I convince myself I'm done being the fool, that I'm stronger now, but he always returned with those smooth words and touches that made me forget the pain. "I should never have left. I don't know what came over me," he'd say with those pitiful eyes cast at me. Yet, here I am, hoping again. I know I'm addicted to the chaos he brings. Tonight is filled with buzzing tension. I don't know what it is but it has been this way since Colt dropped that message two hours ago. I stare at my phone once more, my thumb hovering over his words: 'Meet me at La Belle Étoile. 8 PM. We need to talk.' My heart races. It's the one. It must be. The restaurant I've dreamed of with crystal chandeliers and views of the city lights twinkling like stolen stars. He's never taken me anywhere this lavish. Maybe he's finally ready to commit, to slide a ring across the table and erase the doubts. God, I've waited for this. We patched things up just six months ago after his last "exploration" phase, where he vanished for weeks, only to return with that sheepish grin and hands that knew exactly how to make me forget. And, oh, how my body always bowed to his rhythmic strummings. There is no resisting charm with this man. I shake off the nerves, glancing at the clock. 7:15. There is still plenty of time. The red gown hangs in my closet like a secret weapon, silky fabric that clings to my hips and dips low at the neckline, a purchase from two months back when I hoped he'd surprise me. Tonight, it feels fated. Like it's been made right for this very moment as I slip it on. A quick swipe of crimson lipstick, heels that click with purpose, and I'm out the door, hailing a cab before I can overthink. "Calm down, Rain," I whisper to my reflection in the window as the city blurs by. He cheats, I forgive, we burn brighter. But this time a proposal? My stomach flips with hope. The cab pulls up to La Belle Étoile. I pay quickly and step out. There he is, waiting by the entrance, Colt Walden, looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored suit, dark hair tousled just so. My stomach is doing that familiar little flip-flop it only does for him. I smooth down the front of my dress, take a deep breath and head toward him. And just as quickly as