The Story of Us

Part 2

He's all I can think about. He'll he's all I ever think about. I was just too afraid to say it, and here he is, saving the day as usual. I love him. I know I do. I probably always have. They say I'm broken. But he fixes me.

He completes me.

That scars me. I know he's the only one for me, but he could always change his mind. Broken things aren't exactly in high demand.

I hold on to him. I hold on like I'll never let go, because I know I won't. I don't think I can. How long have we been doing this? How long has he been kissing me?

God, he's kissing me.

Only in my wildest dreams did I think this could happen. Am I dreaming? I hope not. If I am, I never want to wake up.

Never is a funny thing. If you think about it, never and always are a lot alike. But I'm not thinking. I've finally stopped thinking and started doing. And now, I'm kissing the love of my life. (Wow that's corny.)

He breaks away. His breathing is heavy, and he's staring at me. It makes me want him more. (He's probably also really confused.) I sit up next to him. We're still so close. I can't take it anymore.

I grab his chin and make his lips meet mine again. I can't help it. I need him. He's surprised still, I'm sure. I can't imaging why, because he's my Chosen One. I don't care if he wasn't chosen. He's my Chosen One. Mine.

His hands are around my face. One is cupping my face as the other drifts to the small of my back. His thumb is brushing my face. My hands are buried in his hair.

I should tell him I love him. He should know.

I've made him wait this long.