Twenty-Two ➳ l.p.

Chapter Twenty: In Love

“I could never be in love like those people in movies,” I told Liam, “I don’t think I’ll ever fall in love.”

                  “I bet I could make you fall in love.”

                  “As if. With who?”

                  “With me.”

                  “I’d like to see you try.”

Chapter Twenty: In Love

                  After Harry ruined the moment, Liam and I just joined the others back downstairs. Harry wouldn’t stop sending us overly-suggestive looks, and to be honest it was getting kind of annoying. Matt, on the other hand kept blanching and giving me a sick look, which I guess makes perfect sense, considering I wouldn’t exactly be too happy to have caught him snogging his best-friend-turned-lover.

                  “So you finally did it,” Louis chuckled, clapping Liam on the back before turning to grin at me. In turn I rolled my eyes and sat down, even though the grin had yet to slip off of my face. Each boy in the room was wearing some resemblance to a smile (except Matt and maybe Niall, who looked as if he was grimacing more than anything else) and Liam hummed at them, sitting down on the couch next to me.

                  “Yeah, finally. She was driving me absolutely insane.”

                  I tried not to blush at that, but it was virtually impossible and I could feel the warmth spread through my veins and cheeks and neck. I bit my lip too, and ducked my head for good measure, beaming when Liam’s hand brushed against the seams of my own, fingers locking into each other’s. I tried to ignore the coos from the other boys, instead reveling in the feeling of Liam pressed solid against me. “Yeah, well.”

                  “I’m happy for you two—ecstatic, even,” Louis continued, and Zayn nodded.

                  “Do you know how irritating it was having to listen to Liam go on and on about you and then having him not wanting to do anything about it because ‘she’ll never like me back, guys, alright, never’?” Zayn was rolling his eyes at this point, a teasing grin taking over his scoff. He clucked his tongue at Liam and the latter blushed, burying his face in my neck and groaning. I stroked my thumb over the back of his hand, because really, wasn’t that exactly the same thing that I had thought the entire time? That Liam would never like me back, that he could never like me back? And I mean, technically, that fact should still remain true, considering that I was nothing special, just a frizzy redhead with an unnaturally habit of screwing things up and sporting a bout of verbal diarrhea. There was nothing about me that should’ve been even remotely attractive to Liam—my eyes were a gross muddy green, I had freckles across the bridge of my nose, more often than not I caused more damage than good. I was nothing compared to the other girls that Liam could’ve picked. I wasn’t exactly skinny, or overly-smart, or any of that. I was just me, and Liam could do so much better.

                  “Hey,” he mumbled, raising his head to press a kiss to my hair, “whatever you’re thinking, stop it.”

                  “What?” I asked, and he sighed at me, pouting and furrowing his brows.

                  “You’re thinking something bad, and just—stop it. Whatever it is isn’t true anyway.”

                  I wanted to ask him how he could read my mind like that, how I was always an open book, but I settled on pursing my lips instead. Questions like those were reserved for the time when Liam and I were pressed close and alone, when we our thoughts were as tangled as our heartbeats and fingers and in between kisses. It felt odd to know that I could finally kiss Liam, something that I had been waiting to do for ages. I could actually call him mine and it would be true. I could hold him and love him and give him chaste cuddles over morning coffee and tea, hug him from behind and kiss the space between his shoulder blades. Liam was irrevocably mine now, and I was definitely not about to let that change.