We Are Infinite

f o r t y - f i v e

k a d e  /  f o u r t y - f i v e

I caught Mia from falling, but as my eyes are locked onto hers, all I can feel is myself falling for her. And then my eyes register what she's wearing, and I can't stop staring at her, and it feels like a million light bulbs lighting up in me, and God she's beautiful.

She's not wearing the red dress. I think maybe it's a little crazy that this was the first thought that registered in my head, but my brain noted it down all the same. Instead, Mia's wearing a slim-fitted dark blue dress that falls below her ankles, trailing a little on the ground. It's a halter-neck dress, which leaves her back bare. Her bare skin against my hand suddenly feels hot, and I lift her up until she's steady on her feet again.

Neither of us says anything; eyes still locked in a silent conversation. Mia's dark eyes are captivating; flecks of silvery green lay amongst the brown. The sky is void of stars tonight, but it's okay, so long as I've got her eyes flickering. They're more beautiful than any starry sky.

Mia's eyes say the words that match mine; the words that neither of us can say out loud just yet. And that's when I realize that I wasn't wrong in coming here. Sure, rain drips down the edge of my jacket, and Mia and I are gradually getting soaked, but I can't keep my feelings to myself anymore.

I break the eye contact, glancing at my feet. I run a hand through my wet hair, then glance up again. I watch the way raindrops collect on the ends of Mia's long eyelashes, and without hesitating, I go for it.

"Mia. I've been playing around with this for a while, but I can't anymore. Look. Mia, I . . ." I break off, searching for the correct words, because she's the kind of girl people write books about. She deserves poetry written in her honor, and I know I'm not the best with words, but I'm going to try.

"I like the person I am when I'm with you. God, Mia, you bring out the best in me. I see everything differently, it's like . . . you showed me the beauty in simple things. In everyday life. I never expected this to happen when you DM'ed me," I smile, "But it has. I think . . . I think I love you, Mia Lynch."

And maybe the universe and the orbits and the stars will laugh at me for saying it too soon, but after meeting Mia? I honestly believe time holds no importance when it comes to a love like this.

Mia's eyes are wide, and then she's smiling, and there's a slight mist of tears in her eyes, but it can only be of an emotion that is the opposite of sadness. I'm telling myself to breathe, because she's smiling and her eyes are looking at me the way they're looking at me, and I can't goddamned breathe.

She takes my breath away.

And then her lips part, and she's speaking, and I'm trying to focus on her words, because what she's saying is important. I'm listening, and everything that she's saying sounds like pure poetry, when in fact, all it is is a confession.

It's poetry too.

Mia tells me that she never thought this would happen as well, and she never expected me to make her so happy. And the way she's saying it, the way she's looking at me; it fills me up with a sort of light that can only be called happiness. She says that she's been a fool, and tried to deny her feelings, but she can't.

She's apologizing for the entire Kade Lawson debacle, and her eyes are asking me to believe her; believe that everything she's ever done with Kade Lawson meant nothing as much as she and I do, in this moment.

She's cute, and the way she feels like she needs to apologize when she actually doesn't, is cuter. I smirk a little, and then slowly, reach over and gently put a finger on her lips. This shuts her up immediately, and her eyes go wide.

This time, when I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close, feel her body against mine, she doesn't pull away. It's barely half a second later, though, when the door of the entrance of the hall bursts open, and Kade Lawson and Cameron Black are standing there.

Oh, shit. Instead of dropping my arm from around Mia's waist, I tighten my hold, pulling her closer until both my arms are encircling her waist. She calms down a little in my embrace, and I feel a little burst of pleasure.

Kade Lawson, on the other hand, isn't too pleased.

After he gets over the first shock of seeing Mia and I together, I see his eyes zero on to my arm around her waist. Without sparing Mia a glance, he stalks up to me, gets all up in my face. I see the anger in his eyes, but there's no hurt there.

Which, for the first time, makes me wonder if he actually loves Mia as much as everyone seems to think that he does. Mia's standing behind me now, and she's begging us to stop, although I haven't done anything.

Lawson must hear Mia's voice, because all of a sudden, he goes very still. He steps back, away from me, and turns to Mia, who stands next to me now.

Lawson seems to be a hella egoistic dude, because he looks like he can't take his ego being torn to shreds in front of him. He searches Mia's face for a sign; that maybe she and I weren't doing anything, that it doesn't mean anything, that she doesn't feel the same as I do. I think he's looking for a reason to stay, and fight, but he doesn't find it.

Cameron Black nods at me, once, and then at Mia, and then follows Lawson as he re-enters the hall. Mia's calm next to me, and her hand finds its way into mine.

And so we're left all alone again. I can tell that Mia's good; she doesn't feel guilty anymore. I think that sort of confirmation was needed; an upfront confrontation with Kade Lawson, just so that he knows the truth.

I turn to Mia, and our eyes meet again. And this time around, when I place a hand on her waist, no one interrupts. It starts pouring again; just as I'm leaning in, just as my lips brush against Mia's lightly. It feels like thousand fireworks erupting all at once, like a melody of angels singing a tune only we can hear.

We're kissing under a sky of rain, clouds of tears, but I like to think that they're tears of happiness. The universe got what she wanted, after all.

Mia and I, we're infinite tonight.

. . .

t h e   e n d