Wildflower: Janoskian Fanfiction

Chapter 11

*Molly's POV*

The doorbell rang, and I got up to answer it.

Beau.

I realized it was the first time I really got a good look at him while he wasn't in the hospital. He wore a maroon tank top with some khaki cargo shorts, and white sneakers with a matching snapback. Snazzy, I thought to myself. A guy that dresses nice is always a plus.

I looked at his emerald eyes, and they looked right back at mine. They were captivating, and I could hardly resist trying to touch him through the storm door. I opened it though, wanting to see him more closely.

He walked in quickly, nervous. Our eyes never lost each other's. They were speaking again, without saying a word. They were saying so much, so much I could barely understand. I needed him to speak. All that he came up with was a weak, "hello."

"Hello," I responded. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Uh, sure. Sure." He was painfully nervous. Every movement was quick and spontaneous, like he was thinking on the seat of his pants.

He finally sat down though, and looked at me, with a longing look. I sat down beside him, but about an elbow's length away. We looked at each other for a couple of minutes, not knowing what we wanted to say, or hear.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" I asked. I wanted him to admit what he did.

"For all the terrible, awful things I said over the phone. I had no idea you were there, and--"

"Its a good thing I was there!" I interrupted him. "How could you make me think that something was going to happen between us and then be so harsh and mean when you were asked about it!" I stood up, infuriated. "I don't care if I wasn't there! What would you have done if I hadn't heard, and still thought something was going to happen between us?" I paced around him, looking for an outlet for all this sudden energy. Angry energy is always the hardest to get rid of. "Would you have let me bake you another cake, or bring you another bouquet, and just blow me off and go for one of those 'girls that throw you thongs on stage?' I wouldn't care if you went for them, so long as you didn't make me think that I could be--"

I stopped, not wanting to say the next part. I almost let the words slip out. What would happen if they did? He would laugh. He would use them to hurt me later. He already used my emotions against me once, what's to say he wouldn't do it again?

I stormed upstairs, feeling tears about to roll out of my eyes. He wasn't going to see me cry today.

"Molly," he called out, not understanding what I was doing. I ignored him and ran up the stairs from the kitchen. He was quick to follow.

I ran faster as the tears bombarded my cheeks, soaking them in their salt water. My door was in sight, and Beau was right behind me. My hand grabbed the door knob, but I couldn't bring myself to twist it. I didn't have the strength for it. Instead, I fell to the ground, grabbing my eyes and crying mercilessly. Through the gaps in my fingers I could see Beau's shoes as he approached me. He stopped running, and walked over slowly.

He sat down beside me, closely, and touched my wrist, trying to move my hand away from my eyes. I didn't put up a fight.

When he saw my crying eyes, I could see something inside him change, though I didn't know what it was.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and let me rest my head on his shoulder. My legs touched his as I cried,and he took one hand to stroke my hair. I felt so comfortable in his grip.

Eventually the tears stopped falling so rapidly, and I looked up at Beau to show him I had stopped.

My eyes got a hold of his emeralds, and we locked. Nothing in the world existed any more, not the walls, the floor, not even the past. All that was there was that moment. We both felt it.