Matches: Why We Burned Out

six // trouble in paradise

six // trouble in paradise (edited!)

During art class on Friday, I caught Romeo staring at me. For the past couple of days, we hadn't spoken to each other. Of course I'd wanted to speak to him, but what happened at his house was too embarrassing for me; I couldn't conjure up the courage to speak to him. Besides, during our Friday art lesson wasn't the time to talk.

I sat next to Louisa, who swore she'd changed. Apparently she wanted to become a better person and a better friend, which I was eternally grateful for. And I'd even noticed that she smiled a little more than she normally did. I guess I could thank Romeo for that.

Inevitably, Louisa ended up asking me about Romeo and I, and what was going on between us. As I didn't want to lie to her, I admitted that we hadn't spoken much in the past few days (which, to be honest, was quite the understatement). She seemed surprised.

"Isn't it too soon for trouble in paradise?" she questioned, as she arched an eyebrow.

"Paradise?"

"Yeah. I saw you two cuddling a few days ago," she elaborated. I couldn't lie that I wanted that back. I wanted to cuddle with him again, or at least touch him, kiss him. I missed just being around him. But what happened...

Sadly, I gazed up at him but caught him staring at me. He smiled faintly before returning his attention to his painting. Louisa squealed from beside me.

"Oh my word! He just smiled at you! He so wants to talk!" she exclaimed gleefully.

In a panic, I replied, "No! I can't talk to him! You do it! Actually, don't tell him anything. No, no, ask if he's staying after school."

Louisa simply rolled her eyes at me as she went over to speak to the boy, though he didn't bother to look at her. He simply mumbled something to her, which led her to return.

"He said he's staying if you're staying," Louisa said with a grin on her face. Somehow, I found myself smiling too.

Once class was over, everyone exited the class except Romeo and I. I took a couple of moments to breathe before I approached the boy, who was relaxing on a stool. I pulled out a seat beside him and sat down, watching him paint beautifully. Not once did he take his eyes off his painting.

"You ignored me for like, two days straight."

Romeo didn't reply for a while as he tugged the sleeves of his grey hoodie upwards past his elbows. I was getting tired of whatever attitude he decided to wear that day. He always thought he could reply when he wanted to, and ignore all the questions I asked him. That wasn't how it should have been; we should have been able to have a conversation without having to wait three minutes for a reply from the other person.

Finally, he said, "I didn't ignore you."

"Yes you did," I argued.

"No, Mia. I didn't. I was giving you space to cool off," he explained, licking his soft lips. "I guess I needed to cool off too; I was pissed after you yelled at me like that." And he had every reason to be. "I'm sorry my dad walked in on us. I didn't think he'd be home, promise."

I sighed, immediately feeling terrible for treating Romeo in the way I did. "I'm sorry for calling you an asshole. None of that was your fault."

In that moment, he finally turned his head to look directly into my eyes and I felt the butterflies return. He took my fingers in his, which were splattered with paint, and he kissed them gently as he whispered, "I forgive you, petal."

We both smiled shyly and I swear I saw Romeo's cheeks tint the faintest shade of pink. I giggled.

"I think we should take things slower from now on."

Romeo nodded in agreement, a thoughtful glint in his eyes. "Yeah. Slow."