My Lover or My Enemy?

Yes

I take a deep, shuddering breath, before pulling away from his comforting arms.

"Danny" I say, and for a second the hurt look on his face makes me want to fallback in to his arms, before I steel myself and back away more.

"Skylar, what?" He asks, and he seems a bit angry, shuddering. "What did I do?"

"Nothing" I whisper. "Absolutely nothing. It's me"

He tilts his head, inquisitive.

"Danny, I told you, I'm Demisexual" my voice is low and shaking, and I'm tired, so tired. I resist the urge to curl up in to a ball in the middle of the labyrinth, to press my cheek to the cold stone and touch my knees to my chest and sleep for an eternity.

"So?" He asks, moving closer.

"So, you're a teenage boy" I tell him. "I can't give you what you want," I close my eyes at the last sentence, clenching my fists in to tight balls and    digging my nails in to my flesh. I try to focus on the sharp pain caused by that action, not the tears welling in my eyes.

"You have to develop a strong emotional bond with me, right?" He asks, and I nod my head, eyes focused pointedly on his shoes.

"And you're okay with kissing me?" 

I nod again, and look up at him. "I'm sorry" I say. "I should have told you this the moment you kissed me. That obviously means you want to be going out. God" I say, exhaling roughly. "I'm such an idiot." I smile ruefully at him, and am suprised by the soft smile tugging at his features.

"Skylar" he says, a stand alone word, warm and soft, and I screw my eyes tight and prepare for the rejection.

"Hey" he says softly, calmly, and I feel his finger gently lift my head, under my chin. "Hey" he repeats, and I open my eyes, finally, to find him much closer than he was before. "I'm not going to push you to do anything you don't want to, and I'm fine if you're not attracted to me in that way, I'm fine if you never will be."

"I've heard those words before" I tell him bitterly. "But you're a teenage boy, and hormones are hormones, and in the end, they're going to win over any half-baked feelings you have for me."

He tries to rest his forehead against mine, an act of comfort, but I pull away.

"Danny, what if it takes years for a strong enough emotional bond to build, to the point where I'm attracted to you in that way?"

He looks hurt, if only for an instant, and then opens his mouth to speak. Then, he closes it again, and then pulls it open, giving him the vague appearance of a fish.

"Can we at least try?"

"Try what?" I ask.

"A relationship" he says. "One where we bond, get to know eachother really well...?" There's hope in his voice, and it pulls at my heart in a way that nothing has for a while. A million protests and arguments run through my head, but the simple matter of the fact is that every word Danny speaks to me and every action he makes seems to turn the rusty cogs of my heart a bit more, bringing me feelings I'd forgotten existed in the wake of my parents death.

And so it is for this reason, for the bouquet in the car and the song in the background and the smile on Danny's face and the feeling that my heart is taffee, that I open my mouth and say,

"Okay. Okay, Danny Edge, I'll be your girlfriend."