Chapter two
968 Words
William's pov
I didn't mean it as a challenge, yet she flinched like my words were a storm to her ears. Her laugh followed, thin and shaky the kind of sound people use while trying to convince themselves that everything's okay
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Looked around like she was calculating how fast she could make it to the door in heels.
Something was off.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
She forced a laugh. “Peachy.”
But she wasn’t. She drank her wine like it was oxygen.
Something about her posture gave it away. Too stiff. Her grip on the glass was too tight. She looked at me like I wasn’t a stranger but a problem she hadn’t planned for.
It should have made me cautious. Instead, it made me curious.
Most women I met came rehearsed, polished, their smiles sharpened like business cards. But her? She was unravelling right in front of me and trying desperately to hide it.
I pretended not to notice, but I couldn’t look away.
She leaned forward, eyes wide with false seriousness.
“Listen, you don’t want me. I come with… baggage.”
I stayed silent.
“Aliens,” she said gravely. “They’ve been watching me. Abductions could happen at any time.”
I almost smiled. Almost.
“And water. Don’t drink it. Cursed. Deadly.”
Her voice wobbled, but she kept going.
Finally, she jabbed a finger at my chest. “Also, that tie? Pure villain energy. You should burn it.”
She sat back, smug like she’d just dropped nuclear red flags.
I studied her. A woman trying this hard to be unbearable was more intriguing than half the boardroom combined.
And yet…
I couldn’t stop smiling.
She was chaotic. Complete, delightful chaos. And I was mesmerised.
Just then, her phone buzzed. A message from her friend I guess.
She glanced at me before she texted back.
“You text like someone defusing a bomb.”
“I am,” she said, laughing awkwardly.
She stared at her screen again. I kept staring at her.
Her energy, her unpredictability
But why was she trying so hard to act wild and nasty?
And why did I care?
And for the first time in years, I saw someone real.
I noticed her legs trembled under the table, but the smirk stayed plastered on her lips. Fear in disguise. And she thought I couldn’t see it.
And I couldn’t look away.
As the waiter cleared our plates, I leaned back and studied her.
She was tapping the edge of her glass now, eyes darting between the door and the window. Ready to bolt.
She was acting.
But I wasn’t going anywhere.
In fact, I felt reckless.
Bold.
Maybe even stupid.
There was something about her that took my loneliness away.
I just kept smiling, “I like honesty more than fake politeness.”
She stared at me like my smile was a personal offence.
“Get a room,” someone muttered nearby.
Her face went scarlet, panic flashing across her eyes. She was unravelling. For a second, I thought she’d finally stay quiet then she blurted, voice too high, “Do you want us to?”
The words hung between us like a dare she hadn’t meant to give.
I arched my brow, slow, deliberate. Not amused. Considering it. Watching her shuffle was gripping. She tried to laugh it off, but her throat worked, her stomach twisting so obviously she couldn’t disguise it.
She wasn’t joking anymore. And neither was I.
I discovered she was nervous, which meant she was scared. Then I decided to play along, so I stood up. “Let’s go.”
“What?” She shouted confused. “Why?”
And suddenly, I wanted to make it worse.
Her laugh trembled, like she couldn’t keep the act going much longer. I saw it this time, fear, raw and unpolished
She wasn’t trying to impress me. She was trying to push me away. And I enjoyed it.
“What’s with that smile?” she cut in, suspicion sharp in her tone.
“Because…” I leaned forward, lowering mine, “You’re the first person in a long time who’s not pretending. You’re just… you.”
Her eyes widened before she masked it with a scoff. “This? Please. I’m a walking red flag. You should’ve run ten minutes ago.”
“Maybe,” I said, steady. “But I’m not running.”
She blinked at me immediately, then her leg started bouncing under the table like she couldn’t keep her guard up much longer.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, burying her face in her hands. “Do you actually enjoy this disaster?”
I let the silence sit heavy for a moment before I said the stupidest, boldest thing:
“I like you.”
Her head snapped up. “No way. You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough.” I leaned closer, my voice softer now. “The sarcasm, the theatrics… they don’t fool me. I see you.”
She sucked in a breath. Just a fraction of a second where the mask slipped.
And then this wild thought hit me: irrational, reckless, maybe even insane.
Why not push? Why not risk it?
“Charlotte,” I said slowly, tasting the lie.
I saw her mask slipping, just for a second. It should have warned me. Instead, it lit something wild in me. Something reckless. The next words left my mouth before I could stop them: “Marry me.”
The words shocked even me, but I didn’t take them back.
Her glass slipped, water spilling across the table. She stared at me, wide-eyed, like I’d just spoken in tongues.
I didn’t look away. Couldn’t.
And William Smith never asked twice.
- Writer
