stop.

Stupefied

After a while, he mustered. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"No." She impulsively answered. She doesn't know whether she wants to look at him or not. "I'm not ready yet – no, I don't —"

"Then I will wait!" He intervened. "I don't care how long," he pressed, the glimmer on his eyes all too blinding.

Her fist curled in defense, she looks down avoiding the melting stare he's giving. She felt her knees weaken that she was left unbalanced.

He touched her hand as she gently fell on his chest. She finally found it hard to breathe, her mind rushing to escape. Her heart was thudding so loud that she could feel it beating in both ears.

She's not sure whether it's thumping so loud to express its overwhelmed state on how uncomfortable it was, or to its fear of attachment. Or maybe it's both.