Travis - A series of One-Shots

A moment of pure overthinking

I had just spent hours in the library, trying to focus on the work in front of me, but I was too busy thinking about him. I was begging that I was at the game, cheering him on, hidden as one of the thousands. I counted the minutes on the clock. He sent me one text with the time they'd be back. I would be at the stop early, hearing rumbles of thunder. However, the sun had set, I couldn't see a cloud or star in the sky, just the dim streetlights alluminating my path.

I finally reached the destination. In front of our beloved rink. The lights glowed, and the sky began to rumble. I felt a nervous bubbling in my stomach. I couldn't decipher if my sudden anxiety was from the noise above, or the sudden passing of headlights. I'm not sure if I wanted him to show up now, or never.

I liked him. Of course I liked him. My heart has butterflies whenever the first letters of his name are uttered. My mind was a cycle that always came back to his dorky smile and the way he played with his false tooth. What messes me up is me. Every little thing he did, from a sarcastic joke to a supportive hug, I convinced myself that he had no affection behind it. He saw me as his best friend. The one he can spend Saturday nights swearing at the TV with, talking about every mistake the hockey teams made. I would be pressed against him, laughing my ass off at the absurdity of his remarks. Sure, I didn't always know what was going on, but he made it everything. The only issue is that my feeling gave me butterflies, and they crushed my throat and scared every urge to speak out away.

I sat on the bench, my foot bouncing on the sidewalk. A distant flash in the sky. Thunder rolling from miles away. I was begging for something to happen, to get me out of this moment of pure overthinking. Then, finally, the lights of the bus illuminated the street. It pulled to a leisurely stop in front of me, and I waited [in]patiently for him to stream out. He was there, and he took care of his gear before approaching me.

"I'm surprised you waited for me." He spoke tired, with a small amount of his playful attitude.

I stood up and smiled, "I wouldn't miss it. I love counting down the minutes until you arrive. Especially when your bus shows up 25 minutes later that you informed me." I had a sarcastic tone, but he already knew how I felt.

"Drunk drivers and traffic jams, who can predict that?"

"Maybe you should consider picking up that skill. Would make your predictions much more accurate."

He chuckled, "enough with the sass, lady. I'm ready for bed."

I stood up and matched his pace towards the dorms. He seemed tired, and he was walking in a slight limp. The scent of sweat still lingered, even though his hair was damp from the locker room shower. Still, I could detect the feeling that would drag me closer and closer to him. The one I was addicted to. I looked back at his leg, "How was the game? And are you alright, you seem to be favoring a leg."

"It was a good game. We won, as always. Brutal game, I threw a few punches." I sighed noticeably, he continued, "my hips no big deal, just a little sore."

"Well, be careful, because I don't want you ending up all broken because you pushed it a little too far. That would suck." I tried my best to separate my feelings. However, I feel like my defense was minimal. I felt a large drop of rain land on my nose. From there, the storm began its chaos.

He seemed much more pleased than myself by this event, "Yes! Thank you Lord! It feels amazing!" The rain pelted on us. I flinched in response to the rain, nervous about the work that I held in between my arms. I started to walk faster, he noticed, "you okay? You seem to have picked up your pace."

I turned, "I'm sorry. I just have some work that I really don't want getting drenched." He took off his hockey windbreaker, and placed it in my hands, over the books, "Thank you, but you don't need to get soaking wet for a few pieces of loose leaf."

He slowed and turned to me, "well, as long as I'm next to you, I'm invincible. Even to the brutal storm overhead."

I was obviously taken aback by the comment. He awkwardly looked away, and I knew I had to say something. I didn't know what, so I just started talking, "I feel the same way," He turned back, an unreadable expression on his face, "as long as you're in my life, I know I can do anything. You'll always have my back."

He took a step closer to me, and I thought he was going in for a hug. I started to move towards him, but his hand reached my shoulder and stopped me. He took a few seconds, looking down into my eyes. He looked like he was about to cry and scream at the same time. He was nervous, and that made me nervous. I watched his other hand shakily making its way to my chin. I closed my eyes and moved towards him, my heart racing. It felt like hours passed as he cradled my cheek, "you're beautiful," I heard him whisper.

Then, he kissed me softly. I could feel every droplet of rain that hit me. I wanted him to bring me closer, to kiss me harder. A soft, sweet connection. He pulled away, and I could tell he was nervous to my reaction. I just wrapped my arms around him, taking in his soaked clothes and sweaty scent, loving every second of our touch.

He squeezed me back.