Episode 21: Late Night Conversations

Episode 21: Late Night Conversations

James' words had a motivational effect on Leslie as she became incredibly busy the following week. She threw herself into mental planning and writing those thoughts out onto pages. It was to the point where she even forgot the time of day. If her alarm hadn't gone off, indicating that it was eleven thirty, she wouldn't have known it was nighttime already.

She was smart enough to take these precautions because if she didn't, she would stay up all night.

The woman learnt the hard way about the side effects of losing sleep so she tried not to do that for her health's sake. The last time she had, her body embarrassingly crashed and ended up visiting the emergency room. Just thinking about how she functioned on only two hours of sleep every day for that week had her pitying her old self.

She deserved better.

Slipping beneath her silky sheets, she started wondering about Christopher again.

She had sent him a few messages yesterday and he still hadn't replied.

It seemed he didn't miss her like she did him.

It was crazy—the effect he had on her just by conjuring up images of him or simply recalling the sound of his voice.

All of that had her blushing thinking about the sensations they brought.

If only he could desire her half as much as she did him.

She didn't only see him as a man she liked and a mentor she has been a fan of for years, but someone with a genuine heart despite all the frost he tried to exude onto others.

Despite the acerbic outward appearance, his eyes had the warmth of a sun-kissed ocean.

Leslie longed to see them again in person.

She wanted to drop by but knew he was just as busy as she was. Plus there was a fear of her attention becoming sidetracked and she couldn't pick up where she left off on her work.

He was that dangerous.

However, her hands still found themselves holding the phone and her fingers hovered above it to send him a message.

He's probably asleep, she tried to deter herself.

But the truth of knowing how much he struggled with that task alone didn't help.

She pondered on it over and over again.

Just as she thought better against sending him another addition to the chain of the ones he still hasn't seen, they were suddenly marked with blue ticks—he's reading them.

Then her heart started a frenzy at a simple word:

Typing...

C: Are you asleep?

Oh my god, he had messaged her!

Out of his own free will.

Not missing a beat, she slapped herself for being excited about that.

Could she get any more invested?

Looking down at the message he sent, she knew she could.

Here she was assuming that he had not been thinking about her at all.

L: No, I'm wide awake!

She erased the ending, trying not to sound too desperate.

No.

She started regretting her curt answer when he failed to type something back.

Gosh, did she offend him?

How's your day been?

It was such a moronic question she wanted to bury herself but the embarrassment she was feeling already did that for her.

Unconventionally eventful, he replied.

That had her ears perking up.

Why? Did something happen?

She was always curious about anything concerning him.

More so about something that was out of the norm in his life.

It was learning the little things about him that excited her, even in the most indirect form.

Her inquisitiveness was never quenched when it came to Christopher and she didn't know if that made her weak or desperate...

Maybe a little bit of both.

Ironically, he was surprisingly in a good-natured position with her forthcoming questions.

Nobody usually gave him this kind of unsolicited attention and it called for a tweak of the eyebrows and an enchanting smile as he typed a response.

Well, for starters, I got a big movie offer today...

Her face crunched in confusion.

Isn't that a good thing? Leslie thought, bewildered.

Many authors would kill to be in his shoes and get the kind of appreciation and opportunities he received on the daily.

She knew this was his peak period, but his genius mind didn't seem like it would be taking a break any time soon.

That only meant more doors would be open for him to deservingly walk through.

She wondered if she'd ever get the chance to publicly accompany him.

Attention was never something she craved. Oh no, the truth was far from it. But when it came to this man, exclusivity was one of, if not, the most desirable token for her.

Leslie wanted affirmation as her personality often indulged in it.

Call her crazy but there was nothing more tantalizing than knowing that a man was yours and having the whole world acknowledging that fact too.

If only she had the same energy for her unpublished and unfinished books, then maybe they'd create something that could sell like hot bread too.

But lo and behold, she always put her attention onto one thing she considered high priority and focused only on it. That one thing or person rather was now best-selling erotica novelist Christopher Wells.

God, that sounded sexy even in my head, she let out a wanton sigh before bringing her attention back to the phone in her hands.

Before she could type that what happened to him was something worthy of congratulations, he sent the rest of his thoughts.

It's a production that's going to be led by a distant relative. Emphasis on the distant. Physically and emotionally.

And I hate mixing my business and personal life.

Her lips pursed.

This was the first time he has spoken about any other member of his family except his horr- impressionable mother and father.

She didn't know how to react but she forced herself to, seeing as he was opening up to her about something.

It appeared he needed some prompting to fully divulge the details.

Her fingers moved fast as her brain started thinking.

Which relative? A cousin? An uncle or aunt? And is it a problem if you work with that particular person?

She bit her lip, hoping the last question wasn't prying too much but it didn't seem like the case as his next reply came quickly.

A disturbingly persistent uncle.

Her eyes widened at the adverb he used to describe him.

Wow, she could feel his annoyance and she wasn't even physically beside him.

He's been wanting to work with me for years. Putting on a veil of not recalling how he, alongside the rest of my family, made me into a laughing stock for the professional I had chosen years ago. It's funny how people only praise you when you've reached a certain peak of fame and success where they can no longer ridicule you into nothingness.

Leslie felt angry...

Then she felt a wave of sadness.

Why did it seem like nobody was on Christopher's side back then? When he apparently needed them the most?

It wasn't like he had committed a crime.

It's just writing for Christ's sake!

Not even the thriller kind that incited a small percentage of weirdos into following in the footsteps of criminal characters nor his words subliminally saying that having Stockholm Syndrome was the new rave.

He literally wrote the most passionate and fulfilling novels to date.

So what if they were a little too explicit for some people's taste?

No one truly was a saint, were they?

It wasn't like they weren't doing worse things behind closed doors.

Why should he be treated as some kind of...traitor for not taking the traditional route in a family of scholars?

Isn't that the reason they were living in a liberal 21st century?

To be reckless and resist the confinements of people's expectations?

Frankly, Leslie thought humans had evolved into more understanding beings and left behind pre-existing customs but his family kept proving her wrong.

Her fingers went swiftly against the typing pad and she stormed up a long paragraph, telling Christopher of how great he was and how much people like her appreciated what he did not only for a living, but a source of comfort and excitement for others.

It was an experience that not many got to actually undergo and to do so, whether in a fictitious world, it meant a lot for his readers.

And he needed to know that.

She held her breath, waiting for his reply to what looked like an essay.

Nevertheless, it was important to be good with words to someone who valued them.

A sharp intake left her when the phone in her hands started ringing.

He was calling instead.

Wide eyed and stunned, she watched it ring for the second time before catching herself and answering.

"Hello?"

Her voice echoed back and it was likely a sign that she was on speaker.

A moment of silence came and she wondered if he had butt-dialed her.

That wouldn't have been too far-fetched if he had fallen asleep between reading her tedious message.

Oh, how to imagine actually having bored an author with her words.

Embarrassing, she cringed.

However, her self deprecation didn't last for long when a smooth and calming voice filled the air.

"Thank you, Leslie."

The goosebumps on her skin rose just like that and she licked her lips nervously.

The effect of Christopher Wells was astonishing.

"Uh...you're welcome?"

She facepalmed at how dumb she sounded.

It was all her anxiety's fault.

It seemed to always make a reappearance around him.

He chuckled and her ears could hardly believe it.

Had she accidentally fallen asleep and was now conjuring up her own desires of a late night talk with him?

She pinched herself.

Her lips folded painfully.

Nope, this was real.

Her hand rubbed at the area she just caused pain.

Too real, she moaned lightly.

"I don't know how you do it Leslie but you know exactly what to say to make a person feel better."

She smiled but then read between his words.

"Were you feeling down?"

"A little," he surprisingly revealed.

"Well, don't be. If you don't want to work with that disturbingly insistent uncle of yours, you don't have to. You don't owe anyone in your life any obligations but yourself, got it?"

This time he full on laughed.

She wondered if this was the same robotic Christopher she knew.

Maybe they should do this phone call thing more often.

This was becoming a quick favorite of hers.

"Yes, ma'am." He replied yieldingly.

She grinned at his tone.

He let out a sigh within the next moment of their silence.

It was one filled with the simplicity of just enjoying one's company and knowing that the other person was there for you.

His voice, which seemed to have deepened, probably due to a change in position, filled her ears again.

She lay down onto her bed and took it in, listening to his every word keenly.

"You're not what I expected, Leslie Quinn. And that's not to offend you. You're just more than what I bargained for. Every single aspect of you continues to surprise me. My inclination to bring these parts of you out into the daylight for me to bask in also does too."

Why did he have to speak as beautifully as he wrote?

That wasn't fair to her heart.

"What did you expect, Mr. Wells?" She teased.

He picked up on it quickly.

"Mhmm...I don't know. A brutal pain in the ass?"

"I'll have you know I can be when I want to."

He digressed. "You're right. I'm very sorry about that. My apologies."

"That's redundant. You said sorry before my apologies."

"Are you schooling me on how to be well-versed?"

He sounded very much offended by the thought.

She liked that.

"It's an occupational disease that I apply to my everyday life without knowing. I have to correct something when it's wrongly written or said. Sorry if that offends you."

Leslie wasn't the least bit sorry.

She was actually trying her best not to burst out laughing from his reactive sound of disbelief.

"You don't have to thank me."

Her added fuel made him throw his head back into his pillow in defeat.

She heard it and could decipher what it was clearly enough.

A round of laughter left her.

"No need to beat yourself up about it. That's the reason you've gotten yourself an editor in the first place, right?"

"Oh, whatever will the literary world do without a treasure like you?"

And there went his sarcasm.

She rolled her eyes.

"Actually, a lot of people told me I was foolish to choose a sunset profession like English with a concentration in Journalism and Communication over Medicine. I didn't plan this path for myself. It just happened. I've been reading since I was young and it brought me a lot of joy. It was my escape mechanism when my parents...argued too much."

The lighthearted, bickering mood dissipated at that.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Christopher had no idea her parents fought around her as a child much less her escape from reality being the stepping stone of her becoming an editor.

Hearing about that made him feel equally uneasy and protective of her.

"Don't be," she told him. "It was a gateway to a paradise some people can only dream of. You have no idea what it felt like reading about time traveling and mind reading at six years old."

"Insanely confusing I would assume."

"Yes, but also incredibly enlightening." She smiled radiantly.

He mirrored her own against his pillow.

Christopher felt this overwhelming sensation and suddenly he wanted to see her.

Without knowing it, he had grown to miss her already.

"I miss you."

He froze.

For a second, he was confused as to whether his mind had a mouth of his own but then she cemented her words further.

"So much."

His lungs were heavy with the need for air.

Why did she always manage to leave him breathless and desperate for her like this?

Did she know the effect she had on him was ludicrous?

Surely not.

After all, he wasn't too vocal about his wants and needs.

And right now seeing her was becoming the latter.

Almost a priority of his.

He wanted to say he missed her too but the words failed him.

She wasn't the least bit disappointed though.

Leslie was used to his lack of verbal affection by now.

The words he had said early could more than suffice for that.

It was certain now that she had taken up a space inside his heart.

That meant more than he would ever know.

"I'm gonna go to bed now."

"Already?"

She dug her face into her duvet to keep from fangirling out loud.

Damn, he could be so cute sometimes.

"Why?" Leslie asked after resurfacing for air. "You don't want me to go?"

"I..."

His words trailed off into the darkness.

"I know you don't," she finished for him.

His lips folded, stunned that the woman knew what he was thinking.

"But I have a very important deadline to meet. Writing convention, remember?"

"Oh yes, that completely slipped my mind. How has it been going recently? Did you manage to make a breakthrough?"

"Of course, I did. I wouldn't be held on such a high pedestal if I couldn't prove my worth."

He couldn't believe he was starting to find even her gloating adorable.

"I'm glad."

She smiled from ear to ear.

"I can't wait to hear it."

"Will you be traveling to attend the ceremony?" She perked up.

He hesitated, not wanting to let her down but the reality couldn't be altered.

"Unfortunately, I have a lot on my table right now."

She pouted.

"But I'll be rooting for you in spirit. I know you'll do spectacular."

His confidence in her had something of a propeller effect.

She couldn't help how much self assured she became.

And how deeper she was falling for this man.

***

A/N:

I'm so relieved by how this chapter turned out! It's my first time (from what I recall) doing a long text/phone talk session like this. I didn't know how to express it at first but Christopher took the initiative and came through for me. :)

Thank you for reading this story honestly. If you know me, you know this is the one I've been eager to share for a long time. So you showing it love means a lot. I know it slips your minds to vote and comment sometimes but it really helps with a story's discovery.

[connect with the author:

insta: @writtenbyzan_]