JASON
Lazy days with Jason are everything. They are a moment of calm in the storm that is my life. He reminds me to breathe— to get out of my own head for awhile.
I met him when my family moved to Rosewood about a decade ago. I was eight years old and my parents craved a life in a small town. We'd lived in the city and grew tired of the constant noise, crowded streets and lack of peace. Both my mother and father were born and raised in a small town and knew the benefits that came along with it.
And though Rosewood outwardly appears to be a nice, quaint town, it's destructive and malicious to any who actually lives here. Jason and I have witnessed it firsthand.
I lie beside him, my leg laying over his and my arm draped over his abdomen. His arm is wrapped around my shoulder while his hand rubs up and down my back, bringing me closer and closer to sleep.
Even before Jason and I began dating, we were always close. We we're inseparable. We could be doing something as simple as watching a movie and he'd be holding me close to him, his arms wrapped around me in a protective manner.
During school if a boy were to flirt with me, Jason would go rigid. He'd glare at whoever it was talking me up, pull me to his side. I just passed it off as him being an overprotective best friend but it turns out he liked me.
I've been pretty lucky to have him in my life.
In my half awake, hazy dream state, I don't think before I tell him,
"I love you."
It's the first time. We haven't said it to each other has a couple and here I am, saying it as if it's nothing. I don't realize what I said until I feel Jason's body tense under my touch and my eyes open immediately. My heart begins racing, my palms become sweaty and I slowly sit up, hiding under my hair which is considerably tangled and wild looking. My eyes fall down towards my lap but before I can start crying from embarrassment, Jason's hand is under my chin and lifting my head up to look at him.
A smile is painted on his face and my cheeks flush.
"Say it again."
His words catch me off guard and I shake my head in confusion. He raises his eyebrows at me to speak those words once more and I bite my lip in attempts to conceal the stupidly big grin that's threatening to show.
"I love you."
He smirks and rubs his thumb over my cheekbone, down to jaw and finally landing on my bottom lip. And he finally leans in and kisses me, our mouthes moving in sync.
"I love you too, so much." he whispers, his lips still hovering over mine. And we fell into a comfortable bliss, forever reveling in our shared love.
MIKE
God, I hate these lacrosse games. They are boring and loud and all around an annoyance to me. But I still go to them for one reason: Mike Montgomery.
What can I say? The boy makes me crazy. His parents and mine have been friends since before we were born so it's only natural that we became best friends and then eventually; a couple.
I sit on the bleachers with Aria next to me. Little droplets of rain begin falling on us and I audibly groan. Great, this is exactly what we need right now. It's not enough that I have screaming teenagers surrounding me while I watch this incredibly boring sport, but now it's going to start raining.
Mike scores the winning goal and I can't help but to stand up, my hands clapping together in excitement. No matter how much I dislike lacrosse, he is good at it. Aria hugs me from the side as all of the people in the bleachers rush the field.
I take my time to walk across the field, my hands stuffed into my pockets to shield them from the cold. Mikes gaze catches mine and a smirk plays on his lips. His hair is damp from sweat and rain, his cheeks are bright red but he still looks as handsome as he always does.
"I'm glad you could make it, baby." he says to me.
"Oh, you know I would never miss a game." I giggle. His arms wrap around me and although he smells of sweat, I push myself farther into his chest. Being in his embrace feels so good— so warm.
It's true what they say about home being a person and not a place.
"I love you." he mumbles, his lips pressing a kiss to my forehead. It's not the first time he's said it, but we don't say it a lot. I think the term is overused and when it is said sometimes, it doesn't carry much meaning.
I lift my head up and rest my chin against his chest, my eyes looking directly into his.
"Say it again." I tease.
He smiles and nods his head while leaning down, his lips ghosting over mine.
"Babygirl, I love you."
EZRA
To say my relationship with Fitz is complicated and difficult to maintain is an understatement. But my god, it's worth it. It's not because the love isn't there. It's because of all of the outside forces that put a strain on the relationship.
It's the beginning of my senior year and over the summer, Ezra ended things. It absolutely broke me. I went through summer as a zombie. Physically I was present but mentally— emotionally, I was gone. And I of course couldn't explain to my parents what was wrong and I didn't want to burden the girls, so I carried the pain by myself.
I've been miserable without him. And I don't know if he's the love of my life but he's sure as hell a special part of it.
I walk into the English class that I'm fortunate enough to get to have with Ezra— Mr. Fitz. Spencer is also in the class with me which I'm thankful for. Maybe she'll keep me from completely losing it. I take a seat next to her and try to focus on the material we're being taught. Though the more I look at Ezra, the more I think about the good times. And before I know it, tears are forming in my eyes. I look down to my notebook, a droplet if salty water landing on the paper.
"You good?" Spencer asks discreetly.
I nod and allow myself to zone out for the rest of class. Thankfully, it passes by quickly.
"Y/N?" I look up, my eyes meeting Ezra's and I begin gathering my things. I don't want to speak with him, it's too fucking painful. But he prevents me from leaving the room and I lean against the desk, my arms folded in front of me.
"Can we talk?" he asks me.
I stare at him blankly, watching as he closes the door. He walks back over to me, his expression one of caution.
"I'm sorry about how things ended."
"Are you?" I begin, my time laced with venom. "You should be. My whole fucking summer was spent crying over you! You were the only thing on my mind. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't function for fucks sake! And now you're sorry? Jesus Christ, Ezra. I love you and-"
"Say it again."
I stop my rant, tears streaming down my face, my mouth gaped open slightly. I must look insane but I don't even care anymore.
"Excuse me?"
"I haven't heard you say it in so long and...please. I just need you to say it again."
And for the first time in a long time, I don't look at him and want to scream. There's no anger, only empathy and longing and love. And I know why he wants to hear it.
"I love you." I tell him.
