Like a Tattoo (Raura)

Chapter 4

Laura's POV

7 hours. 34 minutes.

That's how much time is left before it's officially Friday, the day of my and Ross's six month anniversary. He's been dropping ever so subtle hints here and there, but they only make me even more guilty than I was before.

I've been wondering lately: would it have been easier to have declined Ross's request when he asked me to be his girlfriend? Doubtless, it would've been inevitably awkward, moments and days following my rejection, but wouldn't our relationship have healed by now if I had rejected Ross?

I consider the discomfort that would've surrounded our windows as we wondered whether or not to call the other to the window to talk during the days following when he had asked me. Who would've made the first move back to friendship? Would we even have been friends after my rejection or would we never have spoken to each other again?

This exact trepidation obscured my decision, so unfortunately I was compelled to refuse Ross's solicitation.

Fortunately I was always capable of maintaining the upper hand in our relationship. I hadn't once caught myself falling for Ross, despite his warmhearted charm and flattery. There's always been an inner voice within myself reminding me that Ross and I are meant to remain friends and nothing more. That's the way it began and that's the way I always want it to be.

I nevertheless have to succumb to acting like a girlfriend with Ross. From rosy cheeked blushing when I'm on dates with him, to wearing his redolent sweatshirts I actually love because of the sweet scent left on them, to allowing him to draw me into his chest at night when we stay over at each other's houses. I don't hate at all what Ross does for me, because he's always so loving and tenderhearted in whatever he does or says around me. What I feel when he's around me, is guilt. Parts of me wish I could take back what I said six months ago so I wouldn't have to beguile Ross with my ambidextrousness.

Maybe the only way I benefit in this situation is the fact that Ross cares so much for me that he wouldn't do anything I wasn't comfortable with. If he tries to make a move while we're kissing, I tell him I'm not ready. Although there's disappointment and some self-consciousness in his eyes when I confess, I can see underneath: I see the genuine, caring nature in Ross that would never hurt me or force me into something I wasn't ready for.

I sneak another glance at the clock on my bedroom wall. Now it's 7 hours and 26 minutes.

I figure it's not going to help by worrying about our anniversary tomorrow, so I lift myself off my bed and begin practicing a dance routine I have to learn by next weekend. It's a group jazz dance, and since I'm so short, I'm always in the front, meaning I have to be one of the best. In the mock dance studio connected to my bedroom I set the stereo to play the song I'm learning the dance to.

I happen to finish the routine and get back into my starting position right as Ross enters, "Damn, how is my girlfriend so talented?" he sweetly compliments, walking through my doorway.

I laugh and use the remote to pause the stereo so I can greet him, "Thanks," I beam sweetly and walk over to my mini-fridge to get a bottled water, "You didn't say you were coming over."

Ross saunters towards me to try to hug me, but I playfully stop him, urging that I'm slightly sweaty. Of course he's too zealous to take no for an answer and graciously embraces me anyway, "I texted you a couple minutes ago, but I guess you didn't see it yet. The reason I came over was to boast about how much you're going to love what I have planned for tomorrow."

I release myself from Ross's warmth and take a swig from my water, "Is that so?" I tease with genuine interest, "Alright. Dazzle me."

Maybe I'm getting myself into trouble by asking this.