A life in the Dark

C h a p t e r T h i r t y S i x

F i n l e y ' s P . O . V .
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"So what do you want to play next?" I asked, gripping the controller as I exited the last game. No reply came. "Lettice?" I looked over. She had her head tilted back, resting against the pillows; her hands had fallen to her lap, controller loose in her grip. Naturally, she isn't used to staying up late unlike me. I smiled as I turned to gently prise her fingers off of it to retrieve it before it falls on the floor. Unable to stop myself from staring at her eyes, I found myself brushing a strand of hair away from them. Even though she wasn't conscious, a small smile spread across her lips. It was contagious. I spent the next few minutes just staring at her, thinking how unfair it is that she had to endure Jadyn and how lucky I am to have her as a friend. I just wish it was more than that...

I internally kicked myself. It was stupid. She doesn't think of me that way. I shouldn't think like that because every time I do I can't shake those thoughts from my mind.

Suddenly, Lettice slipped down the sofa, landing with her head on my shoulder. I'm glad we were alone since no one could see the violent blush that had found my cheeks as her arms slipped around my waist and she nuzzled her nose into my shirt. Unsure of what to do, I hugged her back, lightly placing my arms around her and tilting my head to rest on hers. Her hair smelt of sweet lemons and the scent swirled around me and I was hopelessly caught in the moment, wishing it could last forever.

It must have been half an hour before I moved from that position, gently moving her hand from my stomach to the sofa and rested her head on my arm as I slowly escaped her grasp to stand up. Then I lowered her down to a laying position across the pillows, where she rolled onto her side and curled her legs and arms in to a comfier position. Her hair had fallen randomly around her head and face, and because of the lighting which made the tips shine, she looked like an angel: my angel.

Forcing myself to look away, I quietly slipped over to grab a blanket, which I placed over her body before walking out and switching off the lights. Then, with one last look at her, I stepped out closing the door behind me, plunging the room into darkness.

I stepped into the light of the kitchen, poured myself a glass of apple and mango juice and sat down at the counter, getting lost in my thoughts.

I was so thankful that Lettice had agreed to come round today-that moment alone has made this the best birthday of my life. Maybe even the best day. My mind replayed the moment where I swiped that strand of her soft, glossy hair away from her closed eyes that during the day had looked so kindly at me, their sea blue colour bold and bright with happiness. If only it could last, if only she could know how strong my love is-see that I'm the one for her. And, despite what I'm like at school, that I'd treat her right...unlike Logan, who doesn't deserve her at all! He isn't even with her yet and has already broken her once, she must like him of course: I've noticed the way she stumbles and her words cone out in a rush whenever I bring him up or she talks to him. I know it's wrong to think like this-selfish, even; it's her choice who she likes and I can't see inside her head, but what has he ever done to make her like him? He hasn't tried. He doesn't care.

I gripped my glass so tight I considered whether it would shatter.

He doesn't give a shit about her and yet she follows him aimlessly. What kind of spell has he put her under? How is this possible? What am I missing? Were it not coming up to midnight I would have screamed in frustration.

Then the door door creaked open and mum stepped into the room from behind me, all my anger disintegrating. "Hi."

"Hi," I croaked, my throat dry after having not spoken for so long. "You're up late."

"Speak for yourself," she replied with a smile, walking over to get herself a glass of water. She was dressed in a grey dressing gown that passed her knees and was tied around her thin waist. Then she leant against the opposite side of the countertop, placing her drink down and looking at mine. "What's on your mind?" she said after a while, and looking lost in her own thoughts.

I glanced at her. "Nothing," I replied shortly, looking away.

"It's not nothing," she persisted, finally looking me in the eye. "Come on, you can tell me." I still remained silent, not willing to open up to her. The only person I feel comfortable doing so with is also the one person I am reluctant to talk to about this. How ironic.

"You love her," she stated. "Don't you?" I turned to her in shock, wondering how she knew. I didn't think I made it that obvious, especially not to her. "Oh don't look at me like that," she scolded, rolling her eyes. "I was young once too. I know what it looks like." I looked away.

"I just..." I began, looking for the right words. "I just... Don't know what to do." On the contrary to usual, mum didn't interrupt or say something embarrassing. Just listened, which was reassuring. "I want to tell her, but I'm scared of being rejected."

"But you never know until you try. I'm sure she won't act rationally; she's a mature, smart young girl, Finley."

"She doesn't like me though; she likes Logan," I sighed, quietly, all the loathing and anger from earlier coming back. She cocked her head to one side, thinking up a solution.

"Well, respect her choice. You can't force her into anything, but you can try to prove to her that you're the right choice, if you feel that strongly about it," she advised.

"I do," I whispered. "I really, really do."

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I think I'm sick: I've managed to update three school days in a row.

Don't really have anything to put here so just the usual.

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