Pretty Little Liars Preferences

#53 He Realises He Likes You

Ezra: "Do you ever feel inconsequential?" Your words were so soft it was a wonder they didn't dissipate into the cool night air. "Or is that a thought that doesn't plague your mind?" You propped yourself up on your elbow to look down at him, a teasing smile on your lips. He tore his gaze away from the star-studded, velvety blackness, and focused it on you. "Nobody's inconsequential. We all mean something to someone." You scoffed and rolled your eyes. This boy was his very own self-help book . "I meant in the greater scheme of things," you shifted your eyes back to the breath-taking expanse of universe laid out above you both. "There's so much world out there and you're barely even part of a fraction of it. It's fantastic and terrifying and wonderful and horrendous all at the same time." You sighed, lost in thought, and settled back into the crook of his arm. "Ezra." "Yeah." "I'm not gonna be inconsequential." Your voice had risen a little now, filling with steely determination, "I'm going to make a difference. Even if it's just in one person's life." He chuckled, "So you're gonna save the world then?" "Maybe not the whole world at first. But maybe I can start with one person's world." You grinned at him, "Maybe you'll even let me fix your world hmm?" And in that moment he realised it. He didn't know when it had happened, nor did he particularly care how, but you had somehow become his entire world.

Caleb: Why was your phone ringing? Who could possibly be calling you at this hour? But more importantly, why hadn't you changed your ringtone from that awful screeching noise Jason had set it as? You threw a hand out and fumbled around on your bedside table. A quick, albeit squinted, glance at the caller ID told you that your mystery caller was Caleb. You groaned. It wasn't that you didn't like Caleb, quite the contrary actually, it was just that you weren't too fond of having conversations at two in the morning. Sighing, you resigned yourself to answering the phone with a groggy "Hello." No answer. Rude. If you were gonna call someone before the sun was up, you could at least have the decency to respond. Wait... Caleb was talking. Just not to you. "I don't know what to do Ezra." Oh. He was over at Ezra's and butt-dialed you. You should hang up now, this conversation was none of your business. "If you like the girl then just tell her. Stop over-complicating things." So Caleb liked some girl. Big whoop. You liked your sleep. "I can't just tell her! It..." "Yes, you can," Ezra cut him off. "When did you even start liking Y/N anyway?" Sleep could wait, there was an important unanswered question hanging in the air. "I don't know," he started. "I think it was the first time she smiled at me. Her eyes were so bright and honest and pretty and..." You could practically see the smile on his face and his crinkling eyes as he recalled the memory. You quickly hung up and sent him a short text. "I think you should take Ezra's advice. I've got a hunch this girl likes you too :)"

Toby: You were so into the movie that you hadn't even noticed Toby had stopped paying attention to Wolverine's sarcasm until you had looked across and noticed him focused intently on the arm of the couch. "Toby," you started tentatively, "What's wrong?" His head snapped around to look at you. "Hmm... Oh it's nothing Y/N. Don't worry about it." You narrowed your eyes at his words. You knew him well enough to know when he was lying, whether it was to you or to himself though, you weren't completely sure. "Whatever," you shrugged and returned your attention to the television. You saw the shock cross his face out of the corner of your eye. Probably wondering why you weren't prying but too grateful to question it, Toby breathed a soft sigh of relief. Initiating plan alpha-z-strike in 3. 2. Go. You lunged at him, knocking you both off of the couch and onto the carpet where you landed on top, straddling him and pinning his arms above his head. "Tell me what's wrong right now Cavanaugh!" you yelled in his face. "Jeez Y/N!," he yelled back. His eyes were wide with shock. "What the hell was that for?" "That was for you thinking I wouldn't notice that you're lying," you stated rather calmly, leaning your face in closer to his. "I want the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth." He muttered something under his breath. "I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you. What was that?" you leaned in closer to him. "I like you okay!" You stared at him slack-jawed and wide-eyed. "I should not have said that," the words quickly stumbled out of his mouth. "I shouldn't have said anything because now it's all awkward and you're looking at me like I grew another head and I feel like an idi..." You cut him off with a soft kiss on the lips. "I like you too. Even if you do talk too much sometimes."

Jason: "Duck, duck ,duck, duck," Jason walked around the circle of sitting children patting a head with each word until he came to you, "Goose Y/N!" You quickly scrambled to your feet and began to chase him around the circle. "You'll never catch me!" he taunted and turned back to stick his tongue out at you. And since he was currently running backwards, he tripped over Lord alone knows what and went sprawling onto the grass of the playground. You skidded up and knelt down alongside him, "Jason! Are you okay? Does anything hurt?" His eyes were closed and he wasn't responding to anything. You had tried yelling, shaking him and just about everything else your five year-old mind could think of before finally accepting that you weren't going to wake him up. Since you couldn't do anything else, you hung your head and let the tears fall from your eyes. Your shoulders were shaking and an unattractive amount of phlegm was running from your nose, despite how many times you tried to pull it back in. "Y/N?" At the sound of Jason's voice you only began to cry harder because Jason couldn't be talking to you, he'd never say your name again and you'd never hear his laugh again or see the way his eyes would light up with mischief or... "Y/N, are you crying?" His voice was worried now as he sat up and wrapped his arms around your shuddering frame, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I was only fooling. Honest. Please stop crying." You sniffled and looked up at him. He was okay! "Jason!" you broke out in a face-splitting grin and threw your arms around his shoulders, holding him as tightly as you could. He rubbed your back and smiled against your neck. He didn't exactly know why, but he just couldn't bear to see you sad.

Mike: "Hey Mike." He turned to face you and was met with a line of ice-cream smeared across his cheek, courtesy of your finger. "Not again Y/N," he groaned. "You do that every single time we get ice-cream." "Well then," you countered, "Maybe you should stop falling for it." He sighed. "And besides, I think chocolate is definitely your colour," you giggled and skipped ahead of him. He wouldn't admit it out loud, he had barely even admitted it to himself, but seeing you so happy and hearing you laugh, even if it was at his expense, never failed to put a smile to his face. Hell. He'd swim in the damn ice-cream if it'd make you happy. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't realised that he had stopped walking until you had re-appeared, waving a hand in front of his face. "Earth to Mike. Come in Mike. Do you read me?" He chuckled and very quickly, seeing your close proximity, pressed the top of his ice-cream cone to the tip of your nose. "Now we're even," he stated simply, smirking at you. "But I hate strawberry!" you whined, "Why would you make me suffer like this?" You pouted at him and he just laughed and continued on his walk through the park. "Mike Montgomery! How dare you walk away from me?" He spun on his heel to find you standing a few feet behind him with your arms folded and lips drawn into a pout. He couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped him. "You look like a spoilt five year-old who's just been told she can't have another cookie." "Well did you ever think that maybe I really like cookies? Hmm?" you arched an eyebrow at him, not dropping your arms from in front of you. "Well did you ever think that maybe I really like you?" he thought and wow was it a good thing those words hadn't slipped out. He'd tell you how he felt... eventually. Maybe when his heart wasn't beating a mile a minute and his palms weren't sweaty and he could still remember how to formulate words because looking at you standing there, just being your silly self, was making it hard for him to breathe.