Luke.
I might've been drunk last night, but I definitely knew the words that came out of my mouth. I was aware of nothing but that tiny sentence that slipped out. I think I'm in love with you. The keyword being think.
Did I mean it? Yes, yes I did. Maybe? I don't even know, myself.
But there was this feeling inside of me, a feeling telling me that I shouldn't feel it and that it was wrong, and that I'd just break from her rejection, but I couldn't help it.
I was in love with October Winters.
And the bad thing? I didn't want to be. And how fucking stupid I felt for thinking that way, but I had to.
It was so obvious that it was going to happen eventually, I just didn't understand exactly why I didn't want my feelings to grow and flourish. And I felt selfish, I felt like a jerk, and I was an idiot.
But it wasn't me I was thinking about, it was her. Her, and her weird craving of macarons that just had to be blue, but I knew she didn't like the taste, just the looks. Her, and her mini library of books in her room, which happened to contain white everything, and a lot of plants. Her, and all her stupid, little interests and avocations that I fell for.
If she loved me back, she'd have to deal with me for the rest of her days, and I didn't want to burden her with my problem. Because I was the problem.
But I love her. I fucking love her.
And I couldn't do anything to stop it.
I felt like I had to push her away, but I couldn't. If I did, then there would be less chances of rejection, but with the strong feelings I had, I'd need to have her close to me; every single surface of her soft skin had to be in my reach, in my arms- my hold, otherwise I'd probably lose myself.
I was thinking all of this as I sat in her bed, sipping the hot green tea that October had just made me, to subside my headache. I already took the Advil pills when I woke up this morning, thankfully by her side. And yes, she dribbled a little on my shirt yet again, which is gross. Drool is gross either way.
But October is lovely. I love her.
I love her, I love her, I love her. I liked how those words sounded in my head, but probably not so much when they leave my mouth. Which maybe won't be for a long, long time.
"'I tried to make you a peanut butter sandwich, so here," she muttered, walking into the room with a white plate holding a peanut butter sandwich, no crust. I smiled softly, taking the plate from her hands and setting it down on the nightstand then grabbed her wrists, sending her lunging forward towards me. We collapse gently on the bed, October straddling me, her hair covering parts of her face from the messy fall.
"Why'sit that I keep ending up on top of you?" she chuckled, getting off me and laying next to me instead.
"S'not like I mind, babe," I winked, nudging her shoulder as she blushed. I felt her hand brush against mine and held it, squeezing the tips of my fingers slightly. I hummed and closed my eyes.
She didn't say anything for a while, just staring at the ceiling with her eyebrows furrowed.
"What's wrong?" I asked, turning my head and eyeing the side of her face. She turned to look at me, our faces inches apart.
"Do you remember anything last night?" she whispered, a tranquil look on her face. My hands got sweaty. What would I say?
"I-uh, no. I- no. I was drunk, remember?" I laughed nervously, and she only nodded. "And besides, I probably didn't, like, mean anything I said. If I said anything. Yeah."
She pinched her lips together and nodded again, only faster before turning to face the ceiling again, bringing her legs up, as if she was walking on the moon. Then, she giggled.
"Isn't it weird how- how there are other things out there that haven't been discovered by us humans? Like, we could make a new letter, but can't because we'd be thinking of the other twenty-six. Or, maybe there are other colours, but can't think of any because it'd be just a different shade of another."
I turn to her once more, but she had her eyes on the ceiling, which could've been constellations in her eyes. She saw things differently - she looked so wondrous and seemed to look for anything extraordinary.
I chuckled lightly. "It's like we're trapped in our little bubble of knowledge, though there are so many other things outside of it that we just can't reach," I added, and she brought her hand up, grasping the air lightly, as if she there was something she could see that I couldn't.
"Yeah," she beamed, smiling to herself. "It isn't in our field of vision, so we wouldn't know unless someone told us. And imagine how great it would be, discovering a new colour or a letter, or something. It'd be so new, and you could make so much out of that one, simple thing."
I smiled at her, and played with my lip ring.
Maybe being in love with her wasn't that bad after all.
