Complementary

thirteen

tenerife sea - ed sheeran

zayn

Her kiss is haunting me.

The way her lips had felt against mine - even if the sensation lasted for a fleeting moment - is something I cannot stop thinking about. The way her hand moved to rest on my jaw and the look in her eyes when she pulled away keeps replaying in my head. She had left me literally awestruck, sitting in the cab of my truck, surrounded by her lingering scent.

Our date yesterday is also someting I cannot stop thinking about. Partially because she kissed me, but also because she finally told me about her past. Something like that is important to me because it helps me understand the way she is now; closed off and fearless.

I can relate to the guarded side of her because I do not enjoy speaking of myself either.

Fearless, however, is something I will never be. She speaks her mind and blurts her every thought, whereas I listen and choose my words carefully. She is not so fearless in the sense where she would like to skydive, or jump out of a moving car, or anything that triggers an adreneline rush - she is fearless in the way that I wish I was. She is not afraid to say how she feels or state her opinion or kiss me out of no where. She is unpredictable, and I love it.

And on top of all of that, she is beautiful. Not in the stereotypical, boring way, where you cannot place your finger on any flaw. She has scars and freckles and her smile is crooked, but all of it adds to her character. Her eyes are the lightest blue I have ever seen, always flickering toward me with amusement. Her hair is short, falling just above her shoulders in a choppy, jet black bob. She dresses differently and carries herself differently, and it is just so refreshing to know somebody like her. She is original, and she knows who she is and what she wants to be.

And now, as I sit here with her stepbrother, I have to force her out of my thoughts. I feel as though it is wrong for me to think about my best friend's stepsister like this, though I have no intention of hurting her or using her or anything of that sort. Louis may not know her as well as I do - though they are family now - but I know he is still protective of anyone who lives under the same roof as him. Which is why he is interrogating me about Carlie and I's date.

"Tell me, mate, what'd you guys get on to? You took her to Alfredo's, yeah?" His voice is scratchy and his feet are kicked up on my coffee table.

"Yeah, that's why I asked you what her favorite restaurant is." I mutter, feeling sheepish when he snickers.

"Such a sweet guy, you are." Lou comments. "But that's all you did?"

"We came back here afterwards."

He turns to look at me, a stern expression on his face. "You didn't sleep with her, right?"

I grimace. "No, Louis. Of course not."

"Good," he turns back toward the TV. "Good. She needs someone who won't use her. She has no problem with all these different guys taking advantage of her. It's quite frustrating."

"I understand why she sleeps around, though." I say.

And I do. She explained it to me herself - it has been a while since she let someone truly care for her. She finds it easier to save herself from attachment and stick to one night stands. In her life, she has loved and lost someone who she should never be without, and for her, it has been hard to trust after that. But the fact that she is willing to try to trust, that she is willing to let me care about her...it makes me feel as if I am important.

"Yeah?" Lou feigns interest, staring blankly at the episode of Breaking Bad he is watching on Netflix. "She tell you anything about her mom?"

"She did, yeah."