Love is an illusion

10

I suddenly remembered those striking blue eyes from 15 years ago. Back when I was just nine years old, there had been this boy, about fourteen, who saved me from drowning at summer camp. I never thought that boy was Miles. He recounted the story after the surgery, and I had completely forgotten about him. He told me he recognized me immediately on my first day of school, and that I hadn't changed at all.

But he had changed. That skinny shirtless boy had grown into a 6-foot-3 muscular man. He shared more stories about that summer, and with every word, nostalgia washed over me. I recalled all of those moments. We would build sandcastles, and my best friend Adam would chase us in the water while Dany slathered sunscreen all over my body. Those days felt so beautiful and peaceful. 

After that, we began to talk more often. Texts, calls—it all came naturally. Honestly, the more I got to know him, the more I realized he wasn't a bad person at all. He was so nice and caring. His serious demeanour might not show it, but I knew he had a big heart. I found myself developing deeper feelings for him. He seemed perfect: smart, handsome, and genuinely kind. He was a real gem.

I was always laughing around him, feeling comfortable and safe. Sometimes, I questioned whether this was love or if I was just losing my mind, because I started having weird dreams about him. I'd wake up imagining moments with him, his face lingering in my mind like a sweet afterthought.

Bzzz. I woke up and glanced at the clock. Ugh, it was noon. Who the heck was calling me at this time? James? Seriously, some people have no manners. My initial thought was to smack whoever was calling.

"Hey," I answered, irritation creeping into my voice.

"Hey," he said, his tone sounding off.

"What's wrong?" I asked, noticing the tension in his silence.

"Miles? What's wrong? You're scaring me," I said, staring up at the ceiling as if it might give me answers.

"Hmm, Willow, I'm outside your house," he said. My heart dropped, and I rushed to the window to see him sitting on the porch, looking dishevelled and distant.

"Can you come outside?" His voice trembled, and I felt a wave of concern wash over me.

I grabbed my jacket and hurried outside. "Hey, what's wrong?" I asked, grabbing his arm. Was he drunk?

"Miles, Miles?" I repeated, but he didn't respond. He seemed too far gone, and it was freezing outside. I considered calling the police but figured that would be an overreaction. Not knowing any of his friends or family, it was probably best to get him inside. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer.

"You're really drunk, and I don't want you to freeze outside my house," I said, struggling to lift him. After what felt like an eternity, we finally stumbled inside.

I dropped him on the sofa and collapsed into the chair next to him, my heart racing. Of all the places he could end up, he had to choose my house. I sighed in relief that my dad was still at the hospital; he would've flipped if he saw a man on the couch. Just as I stood to go back to sleep, Miles grabbed my hands.

"Don't leave... Jane..." he murmured, trying to open his eyes.

He pulled me closer, and I stumbled toward him. He gazed deeply into my eyes. "You're so pretty," he said, his voice thick with emotion. Why was I not feeling nervous? He caressed my cheek and brushed his fingers over my lips.

In a sudden rush, he leaned closer and pressed his lips against mine. His kiss was demanding; he sucked and nipped at my lips. I didn't kiss him back right away, caught off guard by the intensity. His tongue danced along my lips, seeking entry. After about a minute, I gave in and kissed him back. It was passionate and deep, our tongues entwining as the world around us faded away.

In that moment, everything else disappeared—the chaos of my life, my fears about the future, and even the weight of my family's troubles. It was just him and me, lost in each other's warmth, wrapped up in a feeling I had never known before. I felt alive, intoxicated by the chemistry between us. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

As the kiss deepened, I could feel my heart racing, echoing in my ears. My mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, but one thing was clear: this moment, this connection, was something I never wanted to end.