A Letter to Finley

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A Letter to Finley,

I don't think I'll ever send this, to be perfectly honest. I wrote it anyway, though, because I woke up this morning and the sun was basically setting me alight and the colour it made my goldfish look like in the water reminded me of that one time you were laughing so hard you almost pissed yourself and I caught your eye and the whole world felt like a weird clock that kept stopping and starting; your eyes were that exact same gold.

You know you're my best mate Finley, and I think you'll always be. But I don't think I was ever perfectly honest. Somewhere along the line, my love ran a bit deeper than I thought it did. I don't think I ever really thought about kissing you very much before I turned sixteen, but that one time Jasmine kissed you and told you the day after you were terrible and she'd never date you (in year four, mind you) I really felt very angry and I wanted to protect you from her. Well, from all girls really. I wanted to hug you so close I'd suck you in myself and you'd never get hurt ever again.

Of course that's bloody stupid, but I was ten, you can't blame me. It continued from there, my immeasurable love for you.

I have something to admit too. We kissed often, you know? Besides that one time when we were seven and we were just horny as hell and would honestly have kissed anything; that doesn't count. When you got so drunk at one of the first Jensen party we ever went to? When we were sixteen and you cut your hair way too short? And you were so so hung-over and you swore you'd never drink again because you were hung-over the next day as well? We kissed that night.

I kissed you, to be perfectly honest. Okay, granted, I was also drunk out of my mind, but not so drunk I wouldn't remember, and not so drunk that I couldn't remember thinking, "Oh what the hell, if there's one boy I should experiment with, it should be Finley." And we kissed in the garden behind the shed and you squealed because there were so many spiders but you tasted of jell-o shots and your lips were more chapped and smaller than a girls but it was good. It felt good; dare I say it felt really good? You really know what you're doing Finley. You held me real gentle and, despite being heavily drunk and upside down ninety percent of the time, leant me up against the shed and held me close and stuff.

It was weird though, afterwards, because it was like I was more drunk than before. But we kissed. Properly.

If I ever fell in love with you, properly, like I know you want me too...I don't think I'd mind that much. The truth is, though, right now I don't love you. It would be so unfair to try this...whatever this is, without me being as committed as you are. Not saying that you are in love; I wouldn't know. But...just...yeah.

Look, Finley, I know I won't have the balls to send this to you, but if you do somehow get this, I want you to know that I do sometimes dream about you. And I have almost kissed you more than once. And I think I'm very confused and lost, but I'll find myself. When I do, Finley, you'll be the first to know.

Love, O'C

Benjamin & Christopher {Saving Elliot One-Shots}Where stories live. Discover now