:Chapter Thirty-Three:
It was a lot easier saying that I wanted to talk than actually talking.
I had no idea what to say to Blake. Before, I had it all planned out; I would tell him that I was sorry, that I really, really, really liked him, and that I wanted to be with me. But suddenly a realisation dawned on me - what if he didn't like me anymore? It had only been a few days, but it wasn't like he had a sparkly clean reputation. I didn't know to accept rejection; not that I was good at accepting anything. Humiliation coated me every time I remembered how I had handled the situation when Blake told me he liked me. It wasn't very smooth, to say the least.
"Um," I started, rubbing my hand against my arm, "So, thanks. About Dylan. It was like the second time. Crazy right?" I let out a little half laugh, trying to lighten up the mood. Tension was so thick I probably could make a clean cut through it with a knife. We were seated on the benches in the deserted courtyard area, and since Dylan and left pretty quickly, we were alone. It was the chance I had wanted to talk to him, except... well, nothing.
He shrugged. "It had to be done."
What was I meant to say now? I was sorely tempted to make a remark on the weather like he had done before, but I didn't feel as though it was the right thing to do. I felt so, so awkward. All I wanted to do was for him to hold me, but how was I meant to say tell him that?
Hey Blake, can you hold me for a second?
Yeah, okay, no.
I stared down at my shoes. How cliché -- I was almost annoyed at myself, for being so cowardly. I was definitely not the girl with the biggest balls out there, but I definitely wasn't the shyest. Maybe the second shyest. Or the third. But by no way the first!
I took a deep breath, and looked up. Blake wasn't looking at me, his face cast to the side, so I couldn't see his expression, and I didn't like that. I liked, and as creepy and weird as it sounded, looking at his face, and I liked him looking at me, as creepy and weird as it sounded. I reached up and placed my hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at me. His expression was surprised, but he didn't cringe at my touch, which was a start.
"You're my hero," I whispered.
His eyes met mine with a burning sort of passion. Cliché and overused as it sounded, I knew in that moment that I wanted to be with him, for however long he wanted to be with me. He analysed my eyes, as though determining whether or not I was lying. I stared back, not giving up, because I knew that I didn't want to let things go. But minutes past, and I started panicking. What if he didn't like me anymore? I didn't know what I would do. Use my age against me, tell me I was only seventeen, but the feelings I had for Blake, the love I had for him felt like the real thing. The sort of love that was written in books, the sort of love that everyone wanted but could never have.
"I'm sorry I flipped out the first time," I had verbal diarrhoea against -- I couldn't stop talking, even though my brain was ordering me to stop. My mouth had a life of it's own. "I was panicking, and I had no idea what to do or say, I wanted to tell you how I felt but how could I when I thought what you had said was just a phase? I thought it might've been part of the stupid game and," I started tearing up, the hand that was on Blake's face dropping down to my side as I lowered my face, "and, I don't want to get played, I don't want to be part of a game that's might hurt me or you and I know that's no excuse but the truth is that I had no fucking -- "
Blake pressed his finger against my lips, silencing me immediately. His head was cocked to the side in almost fascination. "You just swore."
My hand flew up to my mouth, a gasp escaping me as I realised what I had said. Panic took over my nerves again, and my heartbeat sped up.
To my surprise, Blake smiled -- a real genuine smile, and it looked damn good on him. "You like me?"
I nodded slowly. "A lot. More than a lot. So much. So much more than a lot. Like a lot plus --"
It turned out that was a cure to verbal diarrhoea. It was painless, effective, and a nice sensation that spread across your body like wildfire, only soft. It did, however, put all your sense on alert. Side effects included heightened hormones, a rush of blood to your head, and giddiness.
The cure?
Kissing.
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Playing The Player
Romans"It's cute when the good girl falls for the bad boy... But it's a lot cuter when the bad boys falls for the good girl." Hayleigh Grace, was, to put it lightly, perfection. With her outstanding grades and seemingly perfect life, it seemed like she co...