356 days before
Hours passed one after another and soon it was just after two in the morning. For the past four hours I've paced the room several times, attempted to watch the Tonight Show, and even drank three cups of Chamomile to calm my nerves. It didn't work.
Ever since I felt Graces lips against mine I have been craving them more and more. She is my drug and I have become addicted. Addicted to the soft smell of lavender that floats on her skin; addicted to her rambunctious blonde curls that frame her face; addicted to the way her bottom lip is a tad bit larger than her top and they way her lips shape each word she speaks; addicted to the way they felt against my own.
I'm pacing again, only her running crazily throughout my head. I'm brought to a firm halt when I hear the jingling of keys in the door. The door swings open and there she stood in plain jean shorts and a flowing tank top looking as beautiful as ever. She wasn't flat out drunk either which was to my advantage because I wanted her to remember the way I came up to her and gently pushed her against the wall. And the way I cupped her cheeks in my hands, and how I bent down to bring her lips to mine. I wanted her to remember the way her hands ran up and down my back, and the way I moved my hands to her waist so she could rest hers at my neck. How I told her she was beautiful, and how we awkwardly made our way to her bedroom and fell back on the plush mattress. How she straddled me and I surprisingly rolled us over so I was hovering over her. And how a single smile turned into a whole fit of laughter to the point of me having to roll of off her to regain my breath.
So here we were laying on her bed laughing at nothing, really.
"I love that sound," Grace slowly said as we quieted down our little fit of laughter. I looked at her in a confusing manner to which Grace turned on her side to look at me, "I love your laugh because it means your happy, and when your here with me, smiling like an idiot, I like to think I'm the one who made you happy and, well, that makes me happy - if that makes any sense, like, at all." It's quiet for a moment and Grace is playing with a piece of loose hair from her pony tail and I'm just watching her.
"I think - I feel that you are one of the only things that make me smile." It's quiet for another half second before I feel those soft lips gently press against my own.
For the next hour, we spend talking about our futures. We both laid on our sides while my finger tips danced lightly over the bare skin where her shirt was slightly raised by her hip. I learned that she was going to start university in January at the start of the second trimester. That she somehow miraculously made it into NYU after working her ass off. She's going to take courses in The Department of English and minor in Psychology. She wants to be a college professor.
"I've always wanted to, like, teach or something. I was always interested in reading Hamlet or fuckin' Hemingway, while my friends were into partying and hooking up with guys or getting an STD or pregnant." She laughed and so did I.
"I mean... I did those things too but sometimes, sometimes I wish that I hadn't ever done any of that ya know? Sometimes... I wish I would have just stayed home some nights and watched a movie or something. Sure would have kept me from some of the trouble I had gotten into as a kid - who am I kidding, I still am."
"God I wish the same thing, except all the time. If I could just go back and... fix everything, I would. I definitely would have spent more time with Gem - we were inseparable but... If I would have known... If I would have known what was going to happen I would say I was sorry? I don't know." An invisible knot built up in my throat as a single tear rolled down my cheek. I wanted to wipe it away but I didn't want to draw attention to it. Saying her name was still so familiar yet felt so foreign.
"I really am sorry about Gemma, Harry." Grace said.
"No, it's fine. It just... She was my best friend, she always was. I could never stay mad at her, never. Even when broke my limited edition Captain American action figure, or the time she pushed me into the pool before I could swim properly..." I could feel myself becoming more vulnerable to the tears as time passed so I slowly got myself together before continuing, "what about you, and your family. Is Ben your only sibling?"
"Um yeah, no, actually. I have a stepbrother. Had a step brother. He moved to California the day after he turned eighteen and as far as I know he went to college became a hair dresser and is living his good ole life in the comfort of a man named Jonathan."
[graces pov]
He was priceless. From the way he stopped tracing mindless designs on my hip, to the way his jaw dropped at least two inches before quickly closing. Laughter escaped passed my lips at his reaction obviously not expecting my ex-step brother to be a homosexual.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I wiped the few tears that had left my right eye, "it's just... Your face, it was, Oh, my god, perfect." A slight tint rested on his rosy cheeks but a smile formed on his lips. His lips; his lips were thin but somehow full and soft and breathtakingly enchanting. The couple times that they were on my own they were quick and rushed but still compassionate enough to make you feel everything that he was putting into it. I found myself staring openly at the pink heart-shaped lips, fantasizing about the way they felt on mine. Just thinking about it, I could already feel the warmth spreading throughout my body until I couldn't stand it any longer. I ungracefully stuff led closer to him and wrapped my fingers lightly around the collar of his mostly black shirt and gently pulled his down to me. Feeling them felt like a strange weight was lifted off of my shoulders and dissipated into the air.
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Im sorry this ended weird. I wasn't sure where to go from here. I'm also sorry chapters have been so short lately :3 I have no excuse other than I'm leading up to something big and I'm trying so desperately to fill in the empty bricks building up to it.
I'm also having intense larry feels and it's making it hard to write other wise
You should understand my struggle fellow fangirls
Stay rad, stay weird, and stay beautiful
-Christina
