--Oliver--
My heart feels so light. I feel like If my feet weren't so heavy id float away, up into the atmosphere. Arthur decided to sit with me again. And he smiled at me. Quite a few times. He talked to me willingly, he talked to me. Not about me. I've never spoken to someone so much in my life. More than that, he looked at me with those forest eyes and it made my heart flutter.
That little floating, that rush of light and electricity, it was something I've never felt, and I loved it. My stomach was In knots and my head was clouded with him. And I loved it.
Hearing my name fall from his lips made my knees weak. It just sounded so...
Right.
Like he was meant to be saying it. I smiled to myself, glad that he was the first person to use it. As Arthur settled in his seat, our teacher began class.
"Okay children, you've got an essay to write," She said, making groans erupt from the class. "You will work in partners and I will let you choose them," She then added, causing people to immediately look to their left or right and make strange faces at their friends.
I didn't dare to look at Arthur. I was too scared.
He probably doesn't want to parter with me, I wouldn't blame him at all I mean this class is filled with so many nice people-
"So, How do you want to start this essay?" Arthur leaned over to my desk. "I was thinking each of us could right a paragraph but then I figured that'd be too inconsistent and it'd disrupt the flow of the essay, anyway," He said.
I looked at him, confused and in awe of the fact that he was speaking to me again. "Well why don't we just work on each paragraph together? It'd be easier," I said, hoping he wouldn't see through it. I just wanted to talk to him, really. And working separately on individual paragraphs didn't allow for that.
"Yes sure, that's what I was thinking," He said, pulling out a notebook.
"Class, this essay will be about love. Discuss what you believe love is and what it means to love another person. Use The Great Gatsby as a source if you need to. Due on Monday," Said our teacher. Her voice was dreamy and I could tell she was a romantic.
Letting out a little excited squeak, I turned to Arthur.
"So what do you think love is?" I asked him.
"Love is an emotion," He said plainly.
"What?" I asked, in disbelief.
"Love is an emotion, a result of chemical responses in the brain due to environmental stimulus-"
"No! Love is so much more than that," I said, my eyes going wide at him. "Love is more than just an emotion! Love is a state of being, love is a part of who you are. When you love someone, whether they be your family or your significant other, it is an all consuming huge fire that envelops your soul and your mind and yes it might burn sometimes but that fire fuels your existence! Love is the reason why we breathe and why we get up every morning! Love is- love..." I sighed, closing my eyes. "Love makes us sad sometimes and love makes us cry but- but I think crying is a happy thing. It makes room for more happiness. Love gives us an excuse to be foolish and romanticize and be childish and... And love makes you dream," I said, finally finishing my rambling, and I could feel my face heat up with embarrassment.
Meanwhile, Arthur was scribbling away on his paper, and looked up at me when I was done, shocked.
"I'm sorry I just got excited," I said.
"I never would've thought you were the romantic type," He studied me.
"I never would've thought you were so simple minded," I stated.
He looked offended.
"No wait I just meant that- Yknow you think Love is a simple thing and you don't feel any need for it. I just never would've guessed that'd you'd stick to such a..." I paused looking for the right word which wouldn't offend him. "Such a sad idea,"
"Oh... Well, I just... I don't know. I've never seen a point to love. What point could there be to someone having that kind of pull over your emotions?" He said.
"Because the feeling of being in love, that kind of joy and togetherness and happiness, is worth anything," I replied. "Any sort of sacrifice, any sort of pain you could have in your life, love makes life worth living."
Arthur still scribbled away in his paper as I spoke. When I finished he looked up.
"Sorry, I was just writing down what you said," He stated. "We might not have the same idea about this topic but looking at our audience-" He glanced to our teacher who sat at her desk, eating chocolates and reading Romeo and Juliet. "She agrees more with you," He said. "So we'd get a better grade by taking your lead in this and-"
"But that means that you're lying," I said.
"No no, it's not lying necessarily. I'm just allowing your argument to overcome mine- which it does. Consider it like- you've won an argument and now I'm helping you argue your side,"
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"For the purpose of this essay, just let me go with your idea? Come on! Please? Just work with me here?" He asked, practically pouting.
Sighing heavily to let him know I didn't like this, I nodded. He smiled at me again making my chest tighten and I returned a smile and then he continued to write.
Just then, Francis and Antonio walked past our desks and I could just barely catch the end of a conversation.
"I was in love once," Francis said.
Antonio gasped. "What was her name?" He said.
"...I don't remember..." Francis admitted before throwing the end of his hair over his shoulder.
I turned around to look at them as they passed, laughing a bit at Francis. Arthur looked at me, hearing the laugh.
"What's so funny?" He asked.
"Oh nothing, Francis just seems to confuse sex and love," I replied. His face contorted into something that reminded me of when a person smells something really unpleasant.
"That bloody frog is a pervert and I've only had one conversation with him and I already hate him,"
"He's not that bad. He's one of the few people who don't outwardly avoid me. Like, in other projects we've done in this class, he'd be the one to partner with me because nobody else would..." I said, dropping my eyes to my desk. "He was very nice to me. Very sweet,"
Arthur huffed. "Don't mistake flirting for genuine fondness, Oliver,"
My heart dropped. So there was yet another person who hated me for no reason. I thought Francis was just being nice to be nice, but he was probably just scared of me and didn't want-
"Hey, don't be so sad," Arthur said. "You don't need Goldilocks. I didn't mean to be so rude about it- I just... I don't like him," He stated. "At all."
I shook my head and then rested it in my arms in my desk. "It's okay, I understand." I said. "So what do we have so far?" I asked, hopefully changing the subject.
Arthur handed me the paper which was covered in his neat handwriting that tilted to the right. I smiled a bit at the look of it.
"What?" He said.
"Your handwriting looks like you,"
He blinked. "Oh?"
I looked back to the paper, reading over his notes.
"We might have to work on this later. Would you be able to come over after school today?" He asked.
My face must've lit up like a Christmas tree. "W-what? To your house?" I said.
He nodded. "Yes, we won't be able to finish it in class today, and I don't have study hall today," He sighed.
"Oh yeah okay, that'd be great," I said, trying to hide my nervousness.
"Do you want me to meet you in the library after last period? We can take my car," He then said.
My heart skipped a beat. "Yes absolutely that sounds perfect,"
Arthur grabbed his bag and was stuffing his things into it just as the bell rang. I practically ran out of the room, not even saying goodbye to him.
I didn't like goodbyes.
YOU ARE READING
Something About Him
FanfictionArthur has never needed anyone before. He has always been independent, and he liked it better that way. However when fate pairs him with the main object of the schools rumor mill, Oliver, he finds himself suprised and confused by the sweet boy. Soon...