fool's gold

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"you were in my dream last night

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"you were in my dream last night."

it's pathetic, really. the situation david has gotten himself in. he's not one for cliches and yet he's made himself one to live in. truthfully, there's nothing wrong with it, only that if he could somehow muster up the courage to tell her it'd only complicate things. or maybe it wouldn't, maybe she'd smile and tell him that she felt the same way. david thinks that's a quite slim possibility. he doubts that there's any chance in the world that she feels the same as him--because they're just friends and friends aren't supposed to imagine each other naked.

except every time david hears her say something like the sentence she just uttered, he's given another blinding shard of hope--just a little sliver--but that's enough to have him hopeful for a day or two until it ultimately diminishes again and he goes back to trying to pretend his feelings aren't real.

he's been looking at her odd ever since she said that, although it's only been thirty seconds or so. he doesn't know how she's so casual about this, the woman spooning ice cream out of her bowl and into her mouth without much thought, legs crossed under the table. every once and awhile her knee would bump against his and his whole body would set itself on fire. he felt like he was in high school again--every little touch having his heart pounding and blood flowing south.

"oh, yeah?" he manages, after another second or two. might as well try to feign vague interest and act like he wasn't about to double over in excitement. "what about?"

there's a little smile on her lips, a quirk of her eyebrow as she sucks on the silver spoon in her hand, his eyes drawn to her lips. he's trying to figure out if she's doing it on purpose or is just really that naive, but he doubts it. "it's not anything weird," she says, lowering her spoon to her nearly empty bowl.

"your dreams are always weird," he counters, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

she rolls her eyes, shrugs her shoulders. "whatever. do you want to hear about it or not?" david chews on his bottom lip, rolls his head to the side. he glances down at the watch on his wrist, hums out a noise. he should probably be editing, but listening to her talk is far more entertaining.

"yeah," he says, eyes flickering back over to meet hers. "yeah, tell me."

david wonders if she's ever considered him as something more than a friend--anything more than a friend. he figures she probably hasn't, because the quiet intimacy they have together is comfortable and friendly and just about as platonic as it could be.

he finds himself losing focus as she describes her dream, his eyes focusing more so on the movement of her lips than his ears are on her words. he's almost sure that he's just as in love with her as he could ever be, and she doesn't even know it.

she goes home a little while later, mumbling something about needing to water her plants, leaving david alone in his house with his thoughts. he wonders if he'll ever tell her about his feelings, if they'll ever go away. he hopes that if he ignores them for long enough, they will.

she's more relaxed now than she's felt in weeks.

he's stretched out on the couch, head resting in her lap and legs dangling over the edge, a sense of calm enveloping her as she breathes in the smell of the flannel candle that burns on david's coffee table. a song is playing from his phone (the device settled on his coffee table, inching closer and closer towards the edge every time it vibrates), woman singing about love and something about cinnamon and she thinks that she's never felt more at ease than she does in this moment. besides the music, the house is completely silent. neither of them have spoken in awhile, until she parts her lips and murmurs out his name.

he's pretending to be asleep just so that he won't have to answer, because opening his mouth seemed like a little too much effort for that very moment, and so he kept his eyes shut and didn't respond, his heart beating steadily in his chest. "i know you're awake," she says, after a moment. her fingertips dance over his face, along his forehead and then down the slope of his nose, tickling at the corners of his lips, roaming down to slide along the curve of his jaw. there's a bit of stubble starting to grow there that she's quite fond of and a small dent on his cheek from a shaving accident when he was younger. 

"no i'm not," david mumbles, eyes remaining shut. he doesn't want to have to move, just wants to stay like this for as long as he can. her skin smells like the coconut lotion she uses and every once and awhile he'll catch the scent of her perfume or her shampoo and his heart will flutter in his chest. he wonders why she makes him feel this way. like his heart is dancing in his chest, his blood pumping a little too fast. 

he's not sure why. the only thing he's sure of is that he likes it and he's sure that he never wants it to stop.

"look, it's a dinosaur."

she's pointing up at a formless blob in the sky and he's looking at her instead of the clouds, a smile on his lips. she tips her head, narrows her eyes. "sorry," he says, turning his head to look up. it doesn't look like a dinosaur. it looks like a cloud. "you're right. it does."

"i know," she's smiling now. she looks back to the clouds and david feels his heart tighten in his chest. he looks back to her, looks at how close their hands are. they're laying in his backyard on the grass and the green blades have begun to itch his legs but she's happy and that's all he could ever want so he doesn't mention it. "what do you see?"

a pretty girl. his best friend. someone he thinks he could probably fall in love with if given the chance. "a cloud," he answers, tilting his head up to look at the sky. there's thin wisps of clouds that scatter through the light blue sky but none of them look like anything, really, just blobs.

she rolls her eyes. his heart flutters. maybe he's already in love. "you're no fun." she moves to sit up and her hand brushes against his. he wonders if she feels the same electric shock every time they touch, or if maybe that's just him.

"i'm a lot of fun," david counters, hoping that speaking will be enough to distract him from the feel of her skin against his. 

she grins, tilts her head to look into his eyes. he feels like he can't breathe for a moment, that look of genuine happiness on her face nearly enough to knock the wind out of him. her face is so close to his, he thinks that if he tipped his chin just a bit and moved in they'd be kissing. his tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he looks away, his heart beating fast in his chest. "you are," she agrees. 

she's a sloppy drunk. 

her hair is a mess and her lipstick is smudged but david thinks she's still just as pretty as ever, her arms crossed over her chest as she argues with someone he doesn't recognize. her eyes are a little watery and he can't tell if it's because she's drunk or on the verge of tears, but regardless he feels a tug on his heartstrings. 

he wants to stand up, to walk over to her and tell the guy to fuck off but by the time he's gathered up the courage to stand up from his spot on the couch, she's disappeared. he doesn't see her again until the following morning while he's helping zane clean his house, david watching as the boy from the night before left the house. 

he's a fool, maybe, to think that she'd ever feel anything for him. he'll gladly be a fool, he realizes, if that means he can believe that, even if only for a moment, she likes him back


a/n


do my sentences even make sense..like..i be usin commas too much..sometimes u just gotta end a sentence and i just dont. run on sentences 4 days...but o well.

lala ; david dobrikWhere stories live. Discover now