Third Person POV
Samuel left home without a clear destination in mind. By the time he came to his senses, he was parked outside her house. He wasn't fully aware of his actions as he stepped out of the car and walked up to the door. When his awareness returned, he was already at the doorstep, hand raised mid-knock.
He turned to leave—almost—but then he remembered how things had ended between them. So instead, he decided to do what he should have done long ago: apologize and try to make things right.
So, he knocked.
No response.
He knocked again, unsure if she was home—or if anyone was. Still, he kept knocking, relentless even in his confusion.
Just when he was ready to give up and try another day, the door flew open.
And there she was—Angel. Pissed. And honestly? Looking ready to murder someone.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped, her voice thick with sleep and irritation.
Samuel blinked. "Uh, I'm sorry for just showing up like this—"
"To the point, please," she cut him off sharply. "I don't have the time—or patience—for your half-baked apologies and rambling."
"They're not half-baked. Actually, they're probably the most sincere apologies you'll ever get."
"Is that what you came here for?" she asked, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed.
"Not just that. I… came to talk." He winced. That sounded better in his head.
"Talk?" She scoffed. "You've got some serious nerve. You think you can just show up at my house, throw around some sorrys, and expect me to sit down for a chat like we're buddies?"
"I really am sorr—"
"Save it," she interrupted again. "There's no we, Samuel. So I've got nothing to say to you."
"Yeah, well... I do have something to say to you."
"That sounds like a you problem." She moved to slam the door.
"Won't you at least invite me in?" he asked quickly, catching the door with his hand.
"I thought I just told you I didn't want to talk to you."
"I know. But still... won't you invite me in?"
"And why would I do that?"
"I don't know... Maybe because Aunt Blessing would be very disappointed to find out that we're still not speaking, and when I tried to reach out, you shut me out?"
Angel groaned—angrily. Loudly. But then, with all the grace of someone doing something they really didn't want to, she stepped aside.
"Don't get cocky just because I let you in."
"I wouldn't dream of it." He smiled and took a seat near her.
"Okay, now that you're in—out with it. What are you doing here?"
"Honestly? I'm not sure."
"Don't give me that crap."
He chuckled. "I'm serious. Me and my dad had a fight." He looked up at her.
"And what do you want me to say to that? 'You deserve it'?"
He shook his head, so she continued.
"It better be good, then."
"We had a huge fight… about the company inheritance—"
Angel's eyes widened, and she actually snorted. "Never thought I'd see the day you and Uncle Daniel would fight over inheritance."
"Well, he wanted to hand it over to me. I told him no. I told him to stop trying to control my life. Then I stormed out."
He paused, took a breath. "And today, he suddenly wants us to go to work together. Mind you—we've never done that before. But now he's insisting because of the rumors."
"What rumors?"
"That we fell out."
"...Which you did, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but it was temporary."
"So it's not really a rumor, is it?"
He sighed. "He wants to squash it—pretend it never happened. Keep the perfect image going. Pretend like he's handing me the company with my full blessing."
"That's kinda twisted," Angel said. "No offense."
"None taken."
"So what do you want from me?"
"I know I don't deserve anything from you, but... I didn't know where else to go. I just found myself here."
"You need my opinion? Or advice?"
"Both, if I can get them."
"Why don't you want to take over the company? It's not like it's drowning in debt and you're trying to run from it."
"It's not about that."
"Then what?"
"Honestly? I'm not sure. You know I've always loved racing. But he was totally against it, and I gave in. Ever since then, I've felt like... I lost interest in everything—including the company. He's just always trying to control everything I do."
"Hm. Okay, another question."
"Go ahead."
She cleared her throat—trying to mask the fluster in her voice. "If he had sat you down and asked your opinion instead of forcing it, what would you have done?"
"I might've considered it. Hell, I might've said yes. But the way he's forcing it just... pushes me away."
"Maybe he's scared you'll say no."
"Then he should've asked nicely."
"Well. Here's my advice: If you want to take over, then do it. Do it for you. Not for him. And if you don't want it, then don't take it—no matter what he says."
He smiled. "I could hug you right now."
"Don't even think about it."
He laughed awkwardly. "Right. Thanks for listening."
"Could you please leave now?"
"Hmm... let me think. No."
"What else do you want from me?"
"Forgiveness. And maybe… friendship?"
She narrowed her eyes. "I'd advise you to choose your next words very wisely. There are a lot of objects around me that could become weapons. And I will use them."
Samuel swallowed. "Fair enough. Still... I wish you'd let me explain why I did what I did."
"I don't need your explanation."
"But I need to give it. I hate the way things are between us. When I kissed you... I panicked. I didn't understand what it meant. Calling it a mistake? That was the real mistake. I was a coward. I didn't want you to get the wrong idea, but in doing that—I gave you every wrong idea possible. I regret it. A lot. I know forgiveness isn't instant. But I'll work for it. Every day. Until you feel safe enough with me again. Until—"
"Stop talking."
"Okay."
"Don't think that just because you came here with some heartfelt monologue, I'm going to suddenly forgive you and we'll be back to being besties." Her voice cracked slightly.
"I know." He smiled.
"Stop smiling."
"I'll stop... if you go out with me tomorrow."
"I'm busy."
"Pick a day, then."
"I don't want to go with you."
"Then I'll pick the date."
"Don't you have work?"
"I'll clear my schedule." He winked.
"Say one more thing like that and you'll leave in pieces."
"Alright, alright. I'll stop."
A moment of silence.
"What?" Angel asked, after catching him staring.
"Nothing. Just thinking."
"About?"
"You."
She jumped up, flustered, and practically shoved him toward the door. "Get. Out."
"We're still on, right?" he called out as she pushed.
"I never said we were."
"I'll text you the details!"
And then—slam—she shut the door in his face. Hard.