I'd Live For You, If Only I Could (Completed)

Five

After procrastinating my homework for several hours and finally doing it and going to bed, I lay wrapped in my sheets, unable to fall asleep. Below me, the clock tolls four times. Four a.m. I can't fall asleep. I've been trying for going on five hours now, but all I can do is stare up at the ceiling. From my bedside, my phone is tempting me, buzzing lightly every once in a while in its dormant state. Finally, ten minutes after the ominous clock tolls, I groan in annoyance and grab my phone. I scroll through the few messages on the screen and unlock it before quickly texting Scott. I smile when his reply comes. I'll be there soon. I pace around my room, hoping that I don't wake my sleeping parents, until there is a light knock on the window. I nearly sprint over and pull the curtains apart, breaking out in laughter when I see Scott clinging to the window sill and imagine what his lanky form looks like from the street.

"How did you get up here?" I whisper between giggles. He manages to pull himself into the room without falling and smiles.

"It wasn't easy, let me tell you. Why do you have to be on the second floor, anyway? Sure doesn't make my life any easier."

"I don't think my parents were expecting you to crawl through the window at four in the morning when we have a front door and you have a key."

"I don't think they were expecting me to crawl through your window at four in the morning period." He hops onto my bed, bouncing a bit on the mattress before patting the spot next to him. "I realized something." I sit next to him.

"What's that?"

"We didn't decide when we're gonna go out, only that we are going to."

"You have a point." I say, hiding my smirk in the darkness.

"So..."

"So..."

"Mitch." he whines, smiling against the less than half light.

"Scott."

"When...do you wanna go out?"

"When do you wanna?" I would never tell him how fast my heart is beating. The fact that we are going out makes me happier than anything ever has. He doesn't know that I've been falling for him slowly since we met.

"How about tomorrow?"

"Sounds good to me."

"I can't believe we're actually doing this. We've been best friends for two years, and if I'm being honest, I've wanted to go out with you basically since the day we met."

"That's adorable." I say, biting my lip.

"You're adorable." My cheeks flush and I try to come up with a response but he interrupts my thoughts with, "C-can I kiss you?"

"I've never kissed anyone before." I admit, now glad to be protected by the cover of the dark.

"That's okay. I'll teach you, not that I'm an expert. I've kissed someone once in my life, and it was in second grade." He pauses. "I mean, if you don't want to, I-"

"I want to kiss you. Believe me." I hear him let out a small sigh.

"Okay." Completely unsure of myself, I wait until I hear the vague sound of movement to turn toward him. He rests his hand on my knee, then on my waist to pull me a little bit closer. Mimicking the scenes I've seen in movies and such, I hook my arm around his neck. My natural instinct is to pull back when my knees bump against his, but I hold my position and try to figure out what to do when his lips meet mine. I just copy what he does: part my lips slightly and turn a little so that our lips fit together perfectly. I feel a flurry in my stomach and move my other hand up to his cheek. When he pulls away, I feel his breath on my face and notice a hint of mint.

"Mitch, can I ask you to officially be my boyfriend?"

"Yes you can."

"Okay. Will you officially be my boyfriend?" Our laughter is syncronized, only causing my smile to grow wider.

"Yes, I will. Gladly." Suddenly a thought hits me like a ton of bricks, smashing the butterflies in my stomach into nothing. "Scott." My voice is shaking.

"What? Are you okay?" His words are laced with panic.

"Yeah. I'm fine. It's just..." I trail off, trying to figure out how to tell him. "I'm not out to my parents yet. And they're not exactly the most accepting of people. If they find out, I don't...I don't know what will happen."

"Well, we'll just have to make sure they don't find out until you're ready, then." He takes my hand, tentatively at first, then a little tighter, with a squeeze of reassurance.

"You don't mind?"

"No. I want to be with you, even if it means we can't tell your parents. Which, I guess in effect means we can't tell my mom either. She would probably get excited and tell them." He chuckles a little.

"Thank you." I feel my lip quivering and hot tears welling in my eyes, but I force myself to stay calm. I know that if I start crying, it will take me hours to recover, just to be able to breathe properly again. Last time I started crying I had to be taken to the hospital, so I keep my composure. I stand up and pace a little, knowing that it will calm my nerves. Scott stands up and engulfs me in a hug, wrapping his arms around my back as I bury my face in his chest. We've hugged so many times that it feel natural, but at the same time, it feels different. Like it is signifying something between us that neither of us can see, but it is definitely there. Definitely palpable. I can only describe it as love. Because I love him. "Scott?"

"Mhm?"

"Will you stay with me tonight?" I realize that I am afraid to wake up alone, because there is always the chance that I will be waking up to my last day.

"What about your parents?"

"I'll lock the door. They promised only to use the key if I didn't respond after they knocked twice, and I'll definitely wake up if they knock."

"If you're sure...I better text my mom and tell her I'm not home. I'll tell her you had a panic attack and needed me to come over or something." I swallow the lump in my throat and go to lay on my side on my bed, rearranging myself for sleep the way I always do. My doctor warned me that sleeping with my cart on my bed was a fire hazard, so they gave me another little machine that keeps me alive while I sleep. The room lights up with the illumination of Scott's phone as he quickly types a message and sends it, and the light disappears again just as quickly as it had come.

"Do you mind laying with me?" I feel childish, asking him to lay with me, but he does so without questioning or even mentioning it. I relax against him as he drapes one arm over my waist and uses his free hand to pull a blanket over us. "Good night, Scotty."

"Good night, Mitchy." I feel the words I love you form in my mouth, but I swallow them and say instead, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll be here." With his chin on my shoulder, his arm around my waist, and the even pattern of his breath against my neck, I fall asleep quickly into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.