my chapters keep getting so much longer im????im sorry???? better organizational skills will occur soon??? 

Chapter Twenty-Five: "Call Up Your Angels and Your Very Own Charlie."

"AND KEITH JUST SHOWED up? I'm sorry, I can't process that." Angie said, bewildered.

"Yeah," I mumbled, grabbing a banana and cutting off the tip.

"Well," She tapped her fingers rhythmically against the counter. She had just returned from a client's house, her clothing simple today. Her hair was up in a tight sock bun, and she wore a pencil skirt with a nice blouse. "I'm glad you're going to try and talk to him. Caleb made you do the right thing and it was bound to happen."

Angie glanced at the staircase from the view of the threshold as I started eating the banana, tossing the peel into the garbage. "Do you think he's going to be okay?"

When Caleb and I had shown up to the house. I had stressfully woken him up from the deep slumber in the car. Dragging his muscled weight and a box of tissues, I had managed to get him inside the house. Sitting in the dining room, I watched as Caleb slouched and rested his head in his arms about to take a quick nap on the dining table.

"I'm sorry," I had told him. "Does this look like the sleeping room to you?"

Caleb just groaned and I didn't expect a response anyway. Poor baby looked awful and I was quick to get Tylenol from the cabinet. Tylenol night. To knock him out as if he wasn't originally going to fall asleep anyways.

Grabbing apple juice, I had handed it to him and coaxed him to swallow the pills. "He'll be fine," I told Angie. "I gave him Tylenol. He knocked out the second I was trying to show him the guest room."

"Trying?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I told him 'you can take the guest room' but apparently I wasn't talking in a language he understood-strange because the man can speak three languages-and he went into my room instead."

Angie laughed, familiar with the way Caleb acted. I didn't really mind. The second he hit the bed, he knocked out, in his jeans and all on my duvet.

He fell asleep in his jeans.

I've never been so confused.

"I think he's stressed," I told Angie. "He told earlier this week that he had a deadline for this script he was writing. He probably overworked himself and came down with a cold."

"That's not just any cold," Angie muttered. "I checked in on him and that's like a scary fever. He looked like a zombie."

If a zombie looked like a puppy all adorable like but okay. I nodded in agreement. "He'll be fine. He just needs to rest."

Angie pushed off the table, grabbing her bag that she had left on the counter before she had spotted me. "I'm going to get changed. I'll be down in a bit."

When she disappeared, I fished through the cabinets, deciding to make something when Caleb woke up. If he would wake up today. I wouldn't be surprised if he woke up at midnight and was still tired.

I heard shuffling a moment later and Caleb came downstairs, rubbing at his eyes. He moved a lot better than he had four hours ago.

I would have been glad about that if he wasn't wearing one of my satin robes. My nice pink satin robe.

I groaned, putting a hand to my head. "Caleb, one question. Why are you wearing my robe?"

He picked at it with his index and thumb before smoothening it down. With his strong legs exposed and he raised his sleeves, showing his tattoos. This should not be allowed- "This is yours?"

"My name is literally on the sleeve and you were only in my room. It was hanging in my closet; do you think it appeared on your face out of nowhere?" I deadpanned.

Caleb grinned. "I must not have noticed. It's soft."

"Are you wearing clothes under there?" I asked him, staring at him with wide eyes. If he was rubbing his dïck against the fabric I'm going to be pissed.

"Relax. Boxers are on. I got hot and had to take off my clothes. So, I wanted to see what you had in your closet and saw the robe hanging on the door. It looked comfortable. Sorry." He scrunched up his nose, sitting down at the table. He glanced over at the stove. "What's that?"

"Soup," I told him.

His eyes lit up and he pressed a hand to his chest. "For me?"

I rolled my eyes. "Who else is it for?"

He grinned, then leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. "Thanks, Tavi."

"Jheeze, Caleb," I rubbed at the place where his lips had touched, feeling heat course through my body. "You're going to get me sick!"

"Oops." He shrugged, leaning against the counter with me.

"Do you feel better?" I questioned although the answer was evident. There was colour back on his face again compared to how pale he was hours before.

"Yeah," He slid a hand behind me. "I just need to sleep longer and knock out later. I should probably be fine by tomorrow."

"Take the guest room while you're at it if you stay over."

Caleb pouted, fully facing me, his hands planted themselves on either side of me and while I was certain he didn't mean for this to seem intense, he unintentionally made it like that. "But your room is so comfortable. Your bed."

"Belongs to me," I reminded him, staring straight in his eyes and trying, and it was hard to try this hard, not to let him know that I was getting any flustered from our proximity. "I only sleep in it."

"Now it's used to two." Caleb grinned before leaning in, the twinkle in his eyes giving me the impression that he liked where he was, with me caged in his arms. "Octavia, don't tell me you wouldn't want me in your bed."

I levelled my gaze with him, crossing my arms. Even with my pink robe on, I didn't like how hot he was, how his attractiveness radiated off his body without any effort. It was the most appealing thing right now, especially the way he was almost pushing himself towards me. I felt the atmosphere shift between us as it had done multiple times, and this was one of those times.

With my hands placed on the counter behind me, I pushed forward to whisper in his ear. "Not saying I wouldn't but you're sick and I have an audition to record tomorrow. Don't spread your sickness to me, please and thank you."

Caleb chuckled lowly as I pulled back to look up in his brown eyes. He, unfortunately, decided to push back, his hands off the counter so he matched my stance. "So, if I wasn't, you'd want me there."

"Where is this conversation going?" I pondered.

He tilted his head, a slight smile on his face. "Just a question, babe."

Babe.

I didn't think much of it. I called others that as well. But when he said that...

He had murmured it, a finger swiping across his bottom lip. My eyes followed the action, staying on his pink lips. And he couldn't have picked a more awful time for a physiological disruption to occur in his body.

"Did you text him?" And that question broke me out of my Caleb lust filled haze. For a moment.

I let out a cough as if I was the sick one, pushing off my position in front of him and leaning against the fridge. "Yeah, he's coming soon."

"Not nervous?"

"More annoyed than nervous," I confessed.

"I wasn't joking when I said that he's here to get you back," Caleb said, his voice strong after he cleared his throat.

"I know. I figured when it was one of the reasons he and Giulio got into a huge and pathetic throttle."

Utterly pathetic.

"You're mad at him," Caleb observed, crossing his arms and I had to snort at the action. He looked ridiculous in my robe and he grinned at my reaction.

I walked right back over to him. "Both of them are so stupid."

"Not gonna lie," He commented. "I felt bad for Giulio."

"Keith didn't have to say any of that," My heart sunk in my chest recalling Giulio's face. "I felt bad enough for him already."

Angie walked in the room, eyes widening a little when she spotted Caleb in my robe. She had changed into shorts and a sweater. "Nice outfit."

"Thank you," He popped his leg out. "Got it at the Octavia store. Get sick once, get one robe free."

I shook my head, a smile creeping on my face before Caleb got serious again. "Yeah, you feel bad but what Karen said was kind of the truth. He has to eventually get over you."

"Who the fück is Karen?" Angie burst out laughing and I joined her.

"Her, not that attractive lousy two-timing ex-boyfriend," Caleb ruffled Angie's hair and she swatted his hand away. "Keep up with the program, Angel."

"Not that attractive?" Angie raised an eyebrow. Caleb couldn't have been that delusional.

Caleb shrugged and rolled his eyes. "He's okay. I mean if you're into the whole 'I'm an average looking guy who thinks I look like the king of the world and probably has a small dïck' type of guy then sure."

I snickered. "Caleb!"

"I'm just saying what we're all thinking," Then I heard him mutter, "Small dïck energy," making me cover a hand with my mouth and he smiled at my reaction. "Anyways, they're both idiots."

"What did Giulio do?" Angie asked. "Seeing as the two of them were the ones involved."

"He had his arm out in front of Octavia like Keith was going to spring on her or some shit. Does he know her? I swear, she's like a siren."

My eyebrows rose. "I'm like a what now?"

"You know, those mythical creatures that are kind of like mermaids? But they use the power of manipulation and kill the sailors?" Angie and I stared at Caleb, but he waved a hand. "I was into myth as a kid. Anyways, I mean that you know how to defend yourself, you most definitely didn't need someone else fighting your battles especially when there was no war, to begin with."

I admired what Caleb had said about me, but one thing stuck in my mind. "I kill the sailors?"

Caleb groaned. "Yes."

"What?"

"Wait, no."

"Caleb."

"It's coming out wrong. Give me a second. My head isn't in the right space right now, I'm sick!" He defended. Angie and I exchanged glances as we waited for him to find the right words to say. "Okay, sirens. Mythical creatures that resided in the waters. Legends have it-"

"Legends have it?" Angie mocked.

"I'm having a storytime!" Caleb crossed his arms. "One day, ladies, I need one day for neither of you to try and condescend me as I am telling you a story." I put my hands up in defense, taking a seat on the ground, stretching my legs out to look up at him.

"Okay," He rubbed his hands together and his eyes did that thing where they kind of lit up with excitement. "Legends have it that whenever sailors did what they did best-sailing- they'd see the sirens and the sirens would beck and call out to them, sing, flirt, whatever they had to catch their attention. When the sailors sailed in too close to them, they'd kill them."

"So," I drawled out the word. "I kill people."

"No, I'm just saying that you're good at using what you have. Your skills in acting, getting what or who you want easily that you don't need someone to intervene, October. Much less physically fight the opposition like your ex-fück buddy decided to do so when he threw the first punch."

"October." Was all Angie had gotten out of his words.

"Not a long story but I don't even want to go there," I told her.

Angie clapped her hands. "Speaking of months. Your birthday, I have a good idea of what I want you to wear."

"Birthday?" Caleb asked.

"Birthday party." Angie clarified.

"It's your birthday soon?"

"In June. You're invited of course." I assured him and he smiled, pleased.

"Drunk Octavia?" The smile on his face was teasing now, reminding me of that night with the look on his face.

"Sloshed Octavia." Angie corrected and I brought my knees up to my chest, a little smile on my face. Sloshed Octavia indeed.

"What day?"

"June 18th."

"And you're spending your twenty-fifth here?"

"At the one and only villa," Angie answered for him, taking the soup off the stove for me and turning it off.

"And I'm invited." A sly grin came onto Caleb's face and I lightly shoved him with both of my hands.

I grabbed a bowl to pour the soup into, staring at him. "Yes. I know you're sick but you're a little slow right now, hmm?"

Caleb narrowed his eyes at me for testing him and I turned before I felt heat course through my body at his gaze. Putting the pot back, I put the bowl next to him. I could feel his eyes on me the entire time with the same look as I settled next to him, leaning against the counter.

Angie was grabbing one of her smoothies from the fridge and I was forever grateful that she said to me, "I'll never understand him."

"And you think I will?" I pointed at myself. "He called me a siren, like two minutes ago."

Caleb chuckled as Angie left the room, leaving the two of us alone. At this point, I wasn't sure if I wanted to be left alone with Caleb. I mean, I wanted to. Anyone would want to. Even if he was wearing my stupid robe. But I wasn't sure what I would do. I was an impulsive person, but I knew that would be cranked up around him if I acted on anything.

Why did he have to get sick? I almost pleaded.

"Octavia?"

I sighed, looking over at him. At the handsome writer who looked at me with those twinkling brown eyes and I wondered what the hell went on in his head at all time. He had a sheepish grin on his face as he looked down at the soup I had made for him before looking up at me. "What?"

The grin on his face turned into a dimmed smile as he reached for my hand on the counter. "Thank you." His voice was low, and I felt it resonate through me.

"For what?"

He grabbed my hand squeezing before he let go. "For taking care of me. For being a good friend."

A good friend. I tore my gaze away from his face, clearing my throat. "No problem."

Caleb clapped his hands. "Do you have an extra box of tissues?" He asked me.

I got some, tossing them to him and he caught it with one hand. "You want any comfy clothes?"

He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. "If it wouldn't be a hassle."

"No," I told him. "It wouldn't be."

I went upstairs and he followed grabbing a spoon and the bowl of soup. I went into my closet as he set the soup and box of tissues on my dresser, grabbing his hand to follow me. I searched through for big sweats that were huge on me but would most likely be baggy yet size him as well. Tossing them to him, Caleb quickly got rid of my robe, hanging it back up on the door.

I stopped my movements once I had a shirt in my hand, staring at him.

Right now was pure proof of why I shouldn't be alone with him. Any other time and anything holy would have left the room.

I don't recall the last time I've seen him shirtless and almost naked ignoring the boxers. I don't think I ever have. Or have I always imagined it? Fück.

Caleb worked out. Oh, he did. Last time I saw him shirtless I didn't have time to look at him like this with the lighting of my closet giving his skin colour a soft glow. My eyes went over the dip and curves of his back as he hung my robe on the handle on the door. There weren't many tattoos on his back, there was only one and that one was scrawled in small font on his shoulder blade and I couldn't read it from my angle.

When he turned, my eyes trailed along his torso, not caring if he knew I was taking him. The tattoos he had were of various quotes on his chest, scrawled in small letters and not obnoxiously ugly or yelling at me in random places. They were placed on his ribs or shoulders or faded into his sleeve tattoo. There wasn't any ink on his toned abdomen. He had a couple of symbols and such on his other arm that didn't have the sleeve tattoo but besides the tattoos on his body, I couldn't help but just stare at him.

Caleb caught me looking as he coughed into his arm, he stared right back, confused. "What's up?"

"Nothing," I said that too fast, too quickly and he narrowed his eyes. "I just didn't take in how many tattoos you have. How many do you have?" I curiously questioned.

"Lost count." He laughed softly as he slid the sweatpants on.

"That many?"

"That many." He confessed.

"When did you get your first one?" I asked him.

"I think I was 15," he pulled his black sock down to show the flower on his ankle. "A lily. Was Bethany's favourite flower."

I walked over to him, handing him a shirt and inspecting the design for myself. It was so nice a part of me wondered what she had said when she saw it on him after he got it. "What about the quotes?" I let my hands trace along the planes of his body, allowing myself to study the lines of ink on his chest.

Despite my movements, Caleb kept his eyes on my face, and I didn't dare look into his own. I knew he was watching me watching him with every steady breath he took. Every rise and fall of his chest. I raised an eyebrow when I spotted a couple of words. "Didn't Oprah Winfrey say this?"

A goofy smile came to his face now. "Inspiration."

"You love your inspiration," I commented. Quotes were usually scattered around someone's body, but the way Caleb had the ink on his chest was meticulously placed and organized, almost like his mindset. And each of the quotes even the one of his brother saying 'focus' seem to give him motivation or some type of drive that he inked onto his body like a reminder.

"Justin Timberlake?" I raised an eyebrow, seeing a song lyric placed on his shoulder.

"He's my personal inspiration from the early 2000s. I know every single one of his songs."

"Of course, you do," I muttered and he laughed quietly as I continued inspecting him. He didn't mind, his eyes still on my face as I kept scanning his tattoos, then his body then back to his tattoos.

"You ever want one?" He asked, slowly. 

"Maybe."

Caleb reached a hand out towards me, tracing his fingers along the shell of my ear, near my industrial piercing. I held in a shudder at the feeling of him this close to me as if we hadn't ever been this close before. "What would you get?"

"I don't know," I tilted my head up to look directly in his eyes and my voice came out quietly. I reached out as well, tracing along the pen the was the basis of the sleeve of his right arm. "I'd have to think about it."

A smirk came to Caleb's face as he took his hand off my ear, placing it on my hip. Raising my shirt a bit, his thumb swiped across the skin near my hip. "You should get something right here. Something small."

"What would you suggest?" 

"Get your favourite number or something." Caleb's eyes were stuck on my skin this time and this was one of the few times where he wasn't staring directly at me when he was talking.

He looked distracted. By me.

"My favourite number?" I repeated, laughing low.

He cracked a smile, glancing up at me, his thumb stroking my skin gently. "A favourite number could be important, you know? Like one day you can tell your grandkids that your favourite number is right there just in case you forget."

My mood almost shifted, and I swallowed, focusing on him. "What's your favourite number?"

He tilted his chin at me. "You first."

"18."

"Your birthday number?" He said it like it was expected and I shrugged because it kind of was.

"And the number of the day my first movie came out. You?"

"Two." That's a number I rarely hear.

"Why two?" There had to be a logical significance for that number.

"You know when people pick a number between one to ten? It's always seven or five or three or something but rarely is it ever two."

"Caleb." I couldn't help but laugh and he joined me.

"I'm just saying," He smiled. "Two is a neglected number, I want it to feel special so it's my favourite number."

I nodded slowly in understanding, "I like that number."

"Just because you said that I'm going to get it tattooed. I'll tell my grandkids that this is my favourite number in case I forget."

I shook my head. "You're a special type of guy, Romero."

Caleb held his other hand to his heart before placing it on my waist. "Ugh, there's the name. It's so sexy when it comes out of your mouth."

"Wish October sounds sexy coming out of your mouth but that horrid month doesn't sound sexy coming out of anyone's mouth."

Caleb laughed, both of his hands now touching my skin as I settled my own on his forearms. My fingers traced along his tattoos, my thumb running over them, mapping and memorizing as if he was going to go away anytime soon. And his skin was warm against my skin, maybe because he was sick, or maybe because of his body heat but I wanted to envelop in it and in him. "C'mon October, you like it when I say it."

"Debatable," I commented and he a soft smile came to his face and he finally, Jesus, the idiot finally looked up at me and into my eyes.

And somehow the eye contact he made was more intimate than it should have been.

The doorbell downstairs rang throughout the house and for the second time today, I blinked, breaking out of my haze. Out of the haze that was Caleb Romero Henderson.

Judging by the slight shock on his face, he broke out of his own too. Removing my hands from his chest, he let go of my waist and I fixed my shirt where he had risen it, feeling cold suddenly. Caleb put the shirt on, ruffling his hair as he looked down at me. "It's probably..."

"Yeah."

"Tell him what you've been holding back in for months and you'll be fine," Caleb leaning against my closet door, surely wrinkling my robe but I didn't care. "In fact, I don't even know why I'm assuring you. You're the siren."

"The fücking siren," I shoved past Caleb, scowling but letting my hand linger on his chest once more as he laughed.

"If he's irritating you and you need backup, call up the other angels and you're very own Charlie."

"That was a shit reference," I commented, laughing and felt good because of him despite who I was going to see in a couple of seconds.

I was heading down the staircase when I heard a voice that most definitely wasn't Angie answer the door. "Who is it?"

Krystal.

I almost ran down the stairs. I didn't give her a warning, I didn't give her a warning, I didn't-

She already started opening the door as his voice said on the other side, "It's Keith."

He seemed calm on the other side. He had changed out of his previous clothes from earlier during the day as well. Wearing blue jeans and a sweatshirt this time, a hat was placed on his head as if to hide to the world that he was showing up here. Made sense, I didn't argue with that.

Krystal stilled, already on the verge of shutting the door in his face as fast as she had opened it. She snapped. "Get out."

"Krystal-"

"No." He put a hand out to stop her as he struggled to explain.

I rushed down the stairs, gently pulling her arm back. "K, it's okay," I stared at Keith as Krystal glared at him while backing away. My friends' loyalty would always be astounding to me. "Come in."

As Keith walked inside, I glanced to where Angie was staring at the scene from the upstairs railing. "Angie will explain," I told Krystal in a quiet voice before turning to Keith.

My friends were both glaring at Keith as if they were going to put him under the ground. If they had any type of magic power, he'd be a pile of dust right now. "Let's talk outside."

I didn't wait for his response. I moved past the living room and he followed until I pushed open doors and exited, making my way to the backyard. I glanced at his expression and sure enough, his eyebrows were raised.

Mine were too when I had first seen the backyard of this place. With a nice swimming pool, I could spot my bedroom balcony from here along with Krystal's and Angie's facing in our direction. My friend who owned the house sure knew what they were doing when they bought it.

Moving past the lounge chairs by the pool, I scanned the surroundings. The closest houses were far enough to ensure that no one was going to eavesdrop on our conversation. In addition, no paparazzi had been near the villa since we've arrived, giving me much needed privacy for once. Crossing my arms, I turned to face him. He seemed as ready as me for this conversation, hands finally out of his pockets. "How have you been?"

I almost laughed. "Don't ask."

Keith narrowed his eyes like he usually would when I showed attitude. "It was a question."

"That you don't get to ask." He blinked and the fool was truly confused. Did he forget who he was talking to? "Why are you really here?"

"You said you wanted to talk." He said slowly.

"Yes," I agreed but I wanted to hear him say what Caleb had said. I wanted to hear it from his mouth. "But why are you here? What was your own reason for wanting to talk? Of calling and texting me when it was clear I wanted nothing to do with you."

Keith took the hat off his head, exposing himself fully to the bright sun in the sky. The sun really was his friend and the handsome man in front of me would have made me weak in the knees at the slight action a year ago. But now I felt nothing looking at him. "I wanted to see you."

"Then pick up a magazine or google image me online." I drily snapped.

He placed the hat on the lounge chair and ran a hand over the fresh cut of his tight curls on his head. "I made a mistake."

"You made a mistake," I repeated, my jaw dropped at the stupidity that came out of his mouth. "You made a mistake. A mistake? You're shitting me."

His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. "It was."

"What you did Keith was not a mistake."

"Yes," He insisted. "It was."

"Then why did it happen with multiple girls?" I cocked my head to one side, loving the surprise that came to his face at the information he wasn't aware I had. That's how his plan backfired. His idea of getting me back with the idea that he only cheated on me once wasn't going to work anyways. His best friend, Eugene had told me that, days after I had wallowed in my room from heartbreak. Stupid heartbreak.

He bit his lip, not sure of what words to say out loud. "Forget them. I only wanted you, Tavi. Still do."

"Yes, let me forget that you cheated on me and just take you back like nothing happened." I made a show of rolling my eyes and crossing my arms. The attitude cracked through the surface. "That's a no."

Keith almost looked desperate. "Just hear me out."

I let out a dark laugh, shrugging. "Go ahead."

"We were good together," He reminded me. "I made you laugh the first time we met, and I already knew you were it for me, remember? And when I asked you to dinner days and it didn't take much after for us to get invested together and we fell for each other. I used to think to myself that we were good for each other but everyone else, the whole world saw it too. By every time we showed up to an event together, every time you smiled. It wasn't even fake, it was real. Don't tell me you've forgotten how it felt when we were together."

"I remember," I assured him, the sudden feeling of tears springing to my eyes coming over me, but I pushed them down as the memories of us together flew past me for a moment. "But we did not have a good relationship." 

"Octavia." He took a step towards me and just as I should have done in that room, on set, I stayed still, letting him know that I wasn't going to sway. If I took a step towards him, it would give him the idea that I wanted him. If I took a step back, he would think I felt something, anything. Staying in my spot was the best thing because I was rooted in my own feelings and desires and none of them involved him.

"We did not." I insisted.

He let out an exasperated breath. "You're just saying that because of what happened in the end."

"I'm not just saying that for what happened in the end, I'm talking about everything. All the stupid breaks we had."

He looked frustrated now at what I was bringing up and I was getting to that point too. I wasn't there yet. But the tension between us was thick. I felt like two wars clashing against each other and the information being thrown was the bloodshed. "Because of our jobs."

"Because you wanted to fück someone else."

I've never said that out loud.

Ever.

Goddammit, I felt a part of relief go through me as I said what had been suppressed for so damn long.

I don't think Keith expected me to say that either because his lips parted and he stared at me, completely stunned. "What?"

"You think I didn't know that? Do you think I couldn't tell? Why do you think I always went back to Giulio? I became so used to you saying, 'I think we should have a break' and my dumb ass constantly agreeing like it was the right thing because I knew you would always come back. A part of me always thought he's off doing something with someone else. He's off doing some other girl and in return, I went to Giulio because he was always there. I'm beginning to think I somehow manipulated myself into thinking I loved you."

"You do."

Pathetic.

He really had himself warped into the idea that I still loved him. That I called him to come over here because I would possibly agree to him and I getting back together.

"I did, Keith. I did. That's the difference." I spat out. "The fact that we both went to different people during the breaks, although you were cheating on me while we were together, should have been an issue anyway. I didn't think of you when I was with Giulio because I didn't think anything I was doing was wrong when we weren't together. Which is stupid because I shouldn't have been able to look at another man even if we were on a break. And you shouldn't have looked at another woman but then again that was the reason we had them in the first place, wasn't it?"

Keith's nostrils flared and he took his hat, placing it on his head again. "Octavia." But I wasn't done.

"I think we did love each other at some point but it wasn't enough," I confessed.

"Don't say that," He stepped closer to me like this was his last chance to convince me that we should be together and move past everything that had occurred. "We did."

"If we did, I wouldn't have gone to Giulio every time and you wouldn't have gone to other women or cheated on me while we were together in the first place. You know what? I don't care if I can forgive you. I don't care if you grew tired of me. Bored of me. Didn't want me. I don't even care if you had fallen out of love with me while we were together. I don't care if you think that I would take you back right this second. Even if I still loved you, I wouldn't because we are not right for each other if our mentalities are like that. And we never will be."

Keith clenched his jaw, locking his hands in front of him. He closed his eyes for a brief second, processing the words I threw at him. When he opened them, he wasn't looking at me and I used that as the opportunity to keep talking. Because Caleb had told me to tell him everything. And everything came out as if a dam suddenly broke open and water, water and more water kept spilling.

"You hurt me, you know?" My voice was like steel. "When I saw the video, I cried. You know how much I hate crying."

He still wasn't looking at me as he said, "I know."

"And I packed my shit and I went to New York," I told him. "I cried there. Then after New York, I went home, and I cried. Because you lied to me for years letting me think you were faithful. And I cried because I should have known better."

Keith's eyes darted up to my face and I finally got the hint of the emotion that had been swirling in his mind. Anger. And it showed when raised his voice, and I was grateful that we were on in the backyard of the villa away from other's ears. "You kept going back to Giulio. This isn't entirely my fault."

"I didn't go to Giulio when we were together and I already said what was wrong with me going to him in the first place," I reminded him through bared teeth, yelling back at him. "When you came back to me, I always pushed him away. Every single time. It wasn't healthy, I know that. And I take the blame for that but at least when there was a clear understanding of me and you not being together with one of your so-called breaks. When we were dating, I knew that it was just me and you. Not me, you and other women. If you wanted out, you should have said that instead of stringing me along."

"I didn't want out because I love you."

"So, you decided that cheating on me was the best decision?" I asked rhetorically. "I can't believe I wasted my tears on someone with your mindset."

"Can't believe every time we broke up, you always ended up sleeping with Giulio." He spat out.

"That's what bothering you?" I put a hand up to my head. His fücking ego. I can't believe this.

"You're fücking that other guy now too?" Keith's voice was filled with so much rage at that thought. The thought of me being with whoever back then and now must have filled his head to give him that kind of anger.

My voice got quieter, yet I was filled with rage just the same as him. "What?"

"The writer guy," He rolled his eyes, annoyance clear in his expression. "Henderson or whatever his name is."

"No," I slowly walked in front of him, standing my ground. "I am not sleeping with Caleb. We're just friends. And even if I was, it's none of your business." And I have no idea why the hell I was explaining myself to this godforsaken prick.

Keith, angry, impulsive, and ill-tempered then had the nerve to say, "That's how they all start out, don't they? As friends? And then you sleep with them like you always do."

His words had come out slowly, trying to break through me. Trying to belittle me. I raised my eyebrows. "Are you trying to slut shame me?"

"That's what you are, aren't you?" His voice finally got quiet and it was dead silent as I took in his words. I almost couldn't look at the man in front of me but when I did, I hoped he understood that there was only pity for him in my gaze.

My lips parted in surprise. "Don't try and think you're allowed to comment on what I do with my body when clearly you didn't give a shit about what you do with yours when we were together."

Keith's nostrils flared and I was raging. This wasn't how I wanted the conversation to go, to turn into but clearly, the dïck didn't care anymore. Any thought about getting me back was gone from his head as he tried to hurt me and tried to tear down my dignity as if was going to allow him to.

"Don't try to justify your actions like you're not being a whöre, Octavia." He said in a tornado of chaos.

I stilled. Keith froze too at the words that had come out of his mouth. He didn't mean to say them, but they were on his mind and they were going to come out one way or another.

I wasn't going to let him hurt me with his words or his actions anymore. Not when I didn't give a shit about his opinion of me. Not anymore.

I was terribly quiet when I spoke, and Keith was still frozen as the words escaped me. "I wanted closure. To completely move past you but clearly, you haven't moved on from me."

He licked his lips, watching me with wary eyes and I think he expected me to snap from his previous word. That previous word. "Why do you think I came here?"

"You were thinking of winning me back," I recalled for him "But I don't think calling me a whöre is the way to do it."

He was majorly frustrated right now, running a hand over his face. "I didn't mean it like that."

"You did. I'm content that I got what I needed to hear what you really think about me. I hope you get happier Keith." I admitted, still angry but the truth came out of my mouth. "I hope you can actually commit to a girl one day and love her. Without shaming if she's slept with somebody in the past. And if you can't, then good luck."

His eyes widened a fraction and the anger subsided this time. He looked desperate and I pitied him. "Octavia."

"I said good luck," I dismissed him. "You can leave now."

I didn't wait to see him leave the premises, I made my way back inside the house, locking the door behind me and hoping that he would go by the side. I didn't say a word to Angie and Krystal whose eyes were on me from the living room as I stomped up the stairs. I would talk to them when I was ready to.

I made my way upstairs, opening the door to my room I heard a movie playing. Caleb sat atop a mountain of pillows he had taken from my bed and possibly the two other guest rooms in the place. He was laughing at something on the screen, shirtless and in the sweats, I had given him.

He muted the TV the second I came in, his brown eyes peering up at me, concern filling his expression. Oh, Caleb how do you manage to look so cute yet so hot at the same time?

His eyes held over in question as I took my shirt off, not bothering to care if he was in the room or not. At the end of the day, it was my room. Changing into an oversized shirt, I took my pants off as well, grabbing a pair of basketball shorts and moving over to him.

Caleb's eyes stuck to my legs, but I pretended not to notice, settling down next to him as I tied my shirt at the front. "How'd it go?"

"I think it went fine." I quipped, my eyes on the screen as the characters continued moving.

"I heard him yelling at you," Caleb said, his eyes on the screen as well. "But you yelled back, and I went over to the balcony to see if he laid a hand on you, but you looked like you had it under control."

"Things are always under my control, Caleb." I quipped, eyes on the subtitles of the show. Keith was a lot of things and even in his most angry moments, he wouldn't lay a hand on me. "He yelled. I yelled. I faced him."

Caleb's heavy gaze fell onto me. "Do you feel better at least?"

"I feel like a physical weight has been lifted off my shoulders," I admitted, letting out a long exhale. "Thanks to you. Thank you." And for the first time, I initiated the hug between Caleb and me. He reacted accordingly, hugging me back and to his chest. I buried my face in his neck, enveloping in his scent and warmth of his body.

"Do you feel better?" I asked into his neck.

"I do now." He implied, a small smile on his face as he shifted us in a more comfortable position, slouching against the pillows. I lay my legs out, and he let me swing one over his own, leaning lowering myself until I lay hugging him with my face against his tattooed chest. He kept his arms around me, perching his chin on top of my hair that was packed and braided into a low ponytail.

"Pig," I muttered and he laughed, the motion rumbling through his chest as he unmuted the movie.

"He called me a whöre," I mumbled in Caleb's chest.

Caleb stilled. "He what?"

"He called me a whöre," I repeated, my eyes on the screen.

"You're not."

"I know that. And even if I was, it shouldn't be a problem. I'm not going to stand for being degraded especially by him of all people." I told Caleb.

Caleb was silent for a couple of seconds and my eyes went down to his hands that were clenched in a fist. "Son of a bitch."

"Romero." I lifted my head off his chest, making sure he was looking directly at me.

He took a deep breath, calming down at my voice. "I don't like getting angry but if your small dïck ex-boyfriend says anything like that to you again-"

"Even if he does, don't worry," I told him. "I can handle him."

But that didn't seem to shake Caleb. He was mad and that radiated off him in waves. I had said before that Caleb mad was one of the hottest things I've seen especially now that his anger was directed towards something that was negative towards me. But it wasn't him. It was almost unnatural and while I liked it to an extent, I really didn't.

He took deep breaths to calm himself, chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes still on me. Any anger I felt for Keith faded as if my energy had transferred to him. I put my hands on his face, his cheeks warm under my touch. "I'm a siren, remember?"

And that did it, making me smile. Caleb's laugh rang through the room and I settled back into his chest. He hugged me to him tightly and anything about Keith flew out the window. "Yeah, yeah you are."