A Love Like Ours

Chapter Eight

"Justin! Look over here!"

"Justin, who's that girl next to you?"

"Justin, will you tell us something?"

This went on for what seemed like forever when we were just leaving the restaurant. Justin didn't hesitate giving my hand a light squeeze. Yes, he was holding my hand. In fact, our fingers were intertwined. Trust me, I'd never wanted that but I couldn't go against him.

I may sound like I hate everything that he's doing right now but truth be told, I love it to death.

I kept my head down as we quickly made (squeezed) our way through the bunch of paparazzi that had crowded around us, blocking our way. The flashes, the flicks and clicks, their irritating yells were getting on my nerves. Not to mention how painful my eyes felt.

With each flash that had appeared, my eyes would sting from the brightness and I'm sure, without a doubt, I would go blind........well, by the end of the day.

I still didn't dare to look up. I kept my eyes glued on the ground, occasionally looking at Justin's shoes to see if we had reached his range rover already, or not. Obviously right now, we hadn't reached it. Sigh.

Ignoring how quick my heart was racing against my chest, I drew in deep breaths to calm my nerves and allowed Justin to take the lead in everything. I should've know that this would've happened. I've known him for such a long time (even though he didn't know me yet, then) and I know how things go with all the paparazzi.

They're infuriating, annoying, vicious sometimes, irritating, and to all those rude paparazzi, they're dumbasses. Sorry not sorry.

Feeling the noises cease as we got on further, Justin slowed down on his walking pace and fell onto my step with a loud sigh. "Was that too much for you? I'm so sorry I pushed you into this. I knew this would've happened and I still forced you to―"

I slowly lifted my head and beamed at him. I was really, genuinely happy. Sure, annoyance existed but to be honest, I had expected worse from this. This was already counted as less severe, if you get what I mean. At least they weren't screaming insults aimed at me.

Yeah, they actually do that.

And it would've hurt me deeply. 

"It's fine, Justin," I cut him off reassuringly, "I didn't say no so don't stress yourself out." But frankly, I still think I was a huge embarrassment to someone like him. I mean, come on. Someone like him; someone like Justin Bieber doesn't hang out with one like me. That's just not it. It doesn't work that way.

He untwined our fingers and wrapped an arm around my shoulders while he chuckled lowly. And then at that moment, it's sort of like how it seemed when it's just the both of us; like the paparazzi had all disappeared and we weren't being stalked, and everything's just as normal as it gets.

I like this feeling.

"Okay, well, we're going to the park," he casually said after a moment of comfortable silence. I tilted my head slightly so that my eyes could meet his own. Does he not know that it could be worse? I mean, not that I minded or anything because he's right here next to me, but.

"And what are we gonna do there?"

"I don't know, take a walk, talk about stuff. I don't know, I didn't plan that." He looked down and met my eyes, an unreadable spark glistening in his eyes. I was curious to know what they were, but I held myself back.

"Maybe we should talk to the birds we see while we're there, since someone once spoke to a swan by the lake," I mocked him indirectly, smirking slightly. I mean, it's funny, don't you think? He's totally normal. 

Not really, I lied.

"Ha, and you people say I'm abnormal!" He pointed out at once, smirking when he knew he was speaking nothing but the truth.

I'm a Belieber. A Belieber knows every comeback (excuse) to what their idol uses and uses those reasons (excuses, really) to fire them back at their idol. And most of us do it on Twitter, if not Facebook but right now, I'm about to do it in my own idol's face.

"We don't," I innocently stated, averting my gaze to the front, feeling his own one boring right into my head, "we say you're normal and we really do think you're normal."

"That's a complete lie," he snickered, sliding his arm down to my waist, leaving a trace of tingles on my skin, "I notice. I do. That means I read everything, you got that."

Yeah, this is the Justin I know; the best idol in the world. The only guy who uses his fans as a header on Twitter. Yes, that's him―Justin Drew Bieber. And I definitely sidetracked myself, oh, how very nice.

"You don't know us," I let out a laugh, "completely."

He snickered again before lifting his snapback lightly off his head, "Let's see, you guys want to 'fuck me senseless', 'be my girlfriend, be my best friend, be my wife', 'get to meet me just once in your life', which I'm trying very hard to make possible and a dream come true, and all of you are gonna 'support and love me until I post my very last video and take the last breath on earth'. Yes? No? Then tell me more."

To say I was stunned would be a lie, and an understatement. I was slightly beyond disbelief. He meant it, he notices us―he knows the way we talk and what we tweet him all the time. Wow, talk about being speechless.

Feeling heat creeping up to my cheeks, I pursed my lips into a tight line and refrained from saying anything else. I am pledged guilty because I was one of which who had once tweeted Justin all of what he had said. My fangirl instincts are greeting me now, and I only have two words to say: Not. Cool.

Justin didn't say anything. And I assumed he was thinking about something else, but nooooo, he had to prove me wrong by squeezing my hip lightly with a loud, loud laugh. A  very cute laugh, at that. "Why are you silent?"

I kept my lips pursed in; my gaze at the front. I didn't have enough guts mustered up to look at him because embarrassing.

Yes, because embarrassing and not 'because it would be embarrassing' because it's more than just those five words. I drew in a deep breath, trying to calm myself down―at the same time trying to chase the blushes away from my cheeks.

Nope, it's not working.

"Unless..." He trailed off the next second, making me feel his hot breath fanning lightly over my crimson red cheek. I freezed internally, trying not to make my eyes grow bigger and bigger by the second. "You do that, too?"

Oh, my. God. What's happening right now (question mark, question mark, question mark).

I cleared my throat and pushed him aside, trying to compose myself (and failing very miserably) back to how I was. I pretended to roll my eyes. There's no way I'm admitting to that, you wouldn't too, if you were me. "Of course, not."

"You know you did," and I could sense that smirk on his face while I kept my eyes stuck on the ground, again, still not having enough guts to look at him.

This is awkward.

And embarrassing.

And so, so, so weird.

"But I'm not gonna judge," he continued, pulling me back and tucking me under his muscular arm. I looked at him at the corner of my eyes, though, I couldn't see his face. I could only hear his voice and see his body. Or, hoodie. 

But I was curious. He wouldn't judge? Laughing means judging. Smirking means judging. Is this kid okay?

"Because after all, I love my fans and I understand I can be quite of a sexual frustration. Not sometimes, but most of the time."

Yeeeeeeaah, I can live with this.