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eleven

So I thought it would be fun to have a chapter from the perspective of Maeve, just to shake it up a bit. If you hate it, please lie to me ;)

Maeve's point of view

As I sat in Biology that afternoon I couldn't help but let out small smiles as I watched the time pass, desperate to get home and meet Sophie. It was odd. No one, let alone a girl, had ever made me feel as simultaneously safe and full of butterflies as she did. She literally walked into a room and I morphed, with total ease from the cockbiter everyone else knew me as, to a giggly mess of emotions. She was unintentionally doing strange things to me, twisting me into an unrecognisable person and confusing me no end. I wasn't even interested in hanging out with Jackson any more, I mean when I say hanging out I mean fucking, but you get the picture. He just seemed clumsy, an inadequate replacement for her. Why was I even comparing them? I groaned, burying my face in the desk and met eyes with Otis. He gave me a twitchy, uncomfortable look and averted his eyes quickly. I knew they were friends, Sophie had blown me off a couple of times before, to spend time with him and Eric and it's not like I was jealous, but let's just say it had contributed to a very tense relationship between us. 

...

Sophie was laid out on the edge of the sofa, allegedly getting ready, but as far as I could tell, doing absolutely nothing of use. I rolled my eyes "do you need support getting ready or something?" I asked. "I am ready" she retorted, giving me a withering look. I tilted my head to one side, "Soph I'm not being funny or anything but you've literally not left the sofa since you arrived". She blushed slightly  and widened her eyes feigning innocence "who's the stalker now" she grinned back, "besides I've been doing productive things". I put down my eyeliner and sat down next to her, "like what?" She turned round to face me and I inwardly groaned, her face said it all, "I made a playlist" she stood up, sauntered over to the mirror and took a bow. I flipped her off, my face betraying how funny I actually it and walked over so I was standing opposite her, "stay here for a second, I'm gonna do your eyeliner". Sophie groaned, rubbing her hands all over her face and grabbed my shirt, attempting unsuccessfully to tackle me to the ground. I tripped over her foot, pulling her chaotically onto the floor, or, to be more accurate, so she was draped uncomfortably over me. She grinned "looks like it's not just me who ends up on the floor every five minutes". I bit my lip, watching her eyes intently, then finally "fuck off" I said unenthusiastically with a small smile. 

She seemed caught out, the inevitable blush creeping intensely across her cheeks, her hands coming to rest either side of my neck. My lips edged closer and closer to hers. I wasn't trying to kiss her, but a force, stronger than anything I had ever experienced before was pulling us slowly together. We moved in jerky motions, only inches apart, eyes begging the other to say it was okay to get closer. She was so beautiful, I could see every individual eyebrow hair, the way her face seemed to arc like a full moon and the slight freckling across her nose. Why wasn't it like this with Jackson. "Jackson", my brain shouted, horns abruptly snapping me out of what I was doing. She saw the panic in my eyes and moved away, her hair grazing the tip of her chin as she stood up, first twisting her hands by her sides and then crossing her arms tightly. "I have a boyfriend" I muttered, not trying to talk to her as such, but more rationalise my feelings to myself "I can't, not a girl" I sat up slowly, still processing and ran my hand through my hair. "I have a boyfriend" I said louder. She looked down, feigning indifference, "I have to go anyway" she said. I looked at her eyes, dark, raw, sleepy, hurt and yelled after her. I had this sense that if I let her go now I would be letting her go for good. "What about the party" I managed to choke out. "I think I'll just go home" she said and then more quietly "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable". 

I sat, paralysed as the door opened and then shut. My thoughts beat me down relentlessly, begging me to explain what had just happened to myself. What confused me the most was that I didn't not want to kiss her. In fact, even now, that was all I seemed to want. I walked over to the sofa desensitized with shock, helpless as my mind closed around me like a tunnel, crushing me with it's force. I picked up a blanket, and numbly wrapped it around my body, sensing but not really feeling its comfort. I buried my head in a cushion and lay still, desperate for sleep to take me away for awhile.