I Love You

I Love You .. part 8

I was laying on my bed, starring at the ceiling and trying to understand why I hurt so much when Sol came back in. It was close to 3am. She looked like she had been crying, which made my heart cringe at the thought.

She didn’t say anything. She just pulled out a bag from the closet and started putting some clothes in it. I was staring at her with disbelief. “What are you doing?”

She shrugged. “Krystal said I could room with her until the end of the semester,”

That hurt worse than when she walked out earlier today. The first time had a good dose of shock in it to numb the pain. The idea that she would just walk away from our friendship was like a scar to which she kept pouring salt on it. The burning sensation seemed to eat its way from my heart to my stomach. “Why?” I think it was the fact I hesitated that made her turn around to look at me. “I thought we were friends.”

Tears fell down her face once again. "I guess that's all we were, Melody. It's not your fault I thought it was more.”

I blinked at her. All the times she'd looked at me and smiled at me came flashing back. The puppy-dog smiles, the private jokes, the times we'd just sit and talk till all hours, they all looked different when viewed at from that point of view. The first time she saw me on booty shorts and tank top over the summer, the times I came out of the shower with only a towel, and all those shy, flustered looks suddenly had new meaning. The most surprising thing was I'd been playing along. Me, Ms. "thanks but I'm not interested", had been flirting right along with her. God, I was such a fucking bitch.

She had turned back to her bed during my revelations and had finished stuffing what she'd need into her bag. I looked at her back and had to ask, "Do you really love me?"

Sol looked at me again; it was as if I'd slapped her with my doubting. She didn't say anything, but I could see her answer in her eyes. Her eyes didn't leave mine as I stood up and crossed the gap between our beds. She was trembling as I bracketed her face with my hands. Fuck showing love through a lens, the volumes being spoken by the way she trembled said more than a picture showing love. I bent down and kissed her.

She whimpered as I pulled back, and looked at me like I'd just slapped her. "Melody…" I put my finger to her lips. I didn't want any words. I didn't want to talk myself into or out of this. I'd spent so much time focusing on pictures and colors that I'd missed all the rest of what was being said. I wanted to listen to the rest of the conversation, see the bigger picture; I wanted to feel what we were saying with our bodies all the way to my soul.

I kissed her again and she responded. Her hands, gripping my hair, were gasping I've wanted this for so long. My hands, sliding down to find the zipper to her hoodie and then the hem of her shirt, moaned Lets not wait any more.

The shirt, however, said you’re such a fucking klutz. It nearly strangled her and caught on her glasses before I got it over her head.

Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and more than a little embarrassment as she settled those ugly-shit frames back on her nose. Slowly pulling the specs off, I set them on the desk and studied her face. My fingers traced under her eyes, brushing away the tears and whispered though their awe filled touch, you have such beautiful eyes.

Her lips sought mine out, begging Please, tell me you meant it. I think the chill that ran down my spine and the moan that escaped my lips said enough.

She didn't say anything; Sol was as hooked as I was. To anyone listening you'd have thought we were "trying to stay quiet," but we weren't, we were communicating on so many levels that words would have ruined it.