What If I Had

eleven - mickey mendes

I'm at a park.

Oh my God... not just any old park...

I'm at my old stomping grounds, before I moved here. Oh, nostalgia, how I love you so!

"Gwen!" Mickey?

I turn to glance over my shoulder, only to find that I'm staring back at that same familiar lemon-headed boy. He has the biggest grin on his face, and I'm pretty sure I do too.

Fully turning my body around to face him, I stare at him in disbelief. He smiles at me, opening his arms and motioning me forwards. Practically leaping into his arms, I snuggle up into the nook of his neck, inhaling the sweet aroma of his cologne.

I pulled away momentarily to look him in the eye. He's so adorable when he blushes like that, I really wish you could've seen it.

"C'mon! Let's go!" He takes me by the hand, running into the park, past the skate park, and towards the swings. He sits me down first and sits down beside me. We both get up pretty high, that is before my cocky ass just had to try and pull a trick and as you'd guess, it ended shitilly.

Is that even a word?

Oh well, I'm using it here: "shitilly"

Feel free to use it whenever.

I went flying off the swing and into the tree in front of us. Caught in the branches, I try to shake off the dizziness and make myself focus on exactly how many fingers I have.

"GWEN!" Mickey practically screams. "Gwen, babe, are you alright?" He asks, climbing up the trunk and helping me sit up on the thicker branch as he takes a seat next to me.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm peachy. I.... d-did you just call me 'babe'?"

Mickey bushes. "I, uh, I-I might've. I me-mean I could stop if you don't like it."

"It's cute when you say it."

I smiled a big, goofy smile. I cannot believe how real this all feels. He is possibly the only thing that I miss from before I moved.

I don't want ever want this to end.

"Gwen."

"Yeah?"

"I...I--umm--I really want to do something, but I'm scared I'm gonna get the w-wrong reaction sooo I--" Mickey nervously blubbers, rubbing the back of his neck while I enjoy the look of his muscular arm bulging out of his short-sleeved shirt.

"You don't have to be nervous 'round me anymore, Michael. You can tell me anything."

"Good." Without warning, Mickey cups my face with one hand, caresses my cheek before leaning in to press his lips against mine.

It absolutely felt so realistic.

Please don't let this end here.

"Gwen, will you be my girlfriend?" He asks me, his hand softly gripping mine.

I smile, still recovering from that sudden show of affection. "I-I...." I giggle like an idiot. "I'd love to."