𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚 - 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜

Chapter Trece

Courtney's POV
It was around 6:30pm and I was at Shayne's. We were sat eating Panda Express on his barstools, after trying to choreograph for three and a half hours. We'd worked through a quarter of the song.
"So, are we actually gonna be ready by Thursday, I mean, that's five days away," I asked through a mouthful of noodles. (out of respect for Panda Express I'm very sorry, I know they sell Chinese food, but are noodles Chinese and do they sell them? Idk)
"I think we can, if we practice every day and finish choreographing by...5pm tomorrow, we could do it," Shayne smiled, checking his watch.
"Cool...um, so as much as I want Olivia to be wrong, can I stay here?" I questioned, cringing at the thought of Olivia's happiness.
"Yeah, sure, but no alcomahols this time, my head still kinda hurts," he smirked, rubbing his temple.
"I promise no drinking. I don't want the embarrassment of another drunken attack on you," I giggled, to which Shayne kinda bit his lip. I caught his eye and bit my lip a little as well, flipping my hair and rubbing my neck.
"I-I...err wouldn't want that either," he stammered, his eyes flicking between his food and me. I smiled, lightly amused at his sudden awkwardness, and pushed his hair away from his face.
"Shayne, breathe. We sorted this out, we're good, we've kissed a million times. And yes, that one wasn't for a sketch, but we're all good right?" I asked, rubbing his shoulder.
"Yeah, of course, always..." he replied, looking at me in the eyes and smiling happily.
"Always..." I repeated. I guess it's kinda our thing now, I like it. A lot. I like him...a lot. More than a lot. What? Am? I? THINKING!?! Snap the hell out of it Courtney. Now!
My hand had made its way from Shayne's shoulder to his cheek and I was rubbing my thumb against his face. He was looking me deep in my eyes and my face was heating up. As I felt color flood my cheeks, he placed a hand upon mine and grazed my knuckles with his thumb. He gently pulled his own hand away, taking mine with it, and let our hands fall to the table. Our fingers laced together and we sat there in silence, just looking at our hands. Softly, Shayne started to say something.
"Court...are you...happy?" he asked, glancing up at me and then back to our hands.
"What?" I questioned, confused.
"Are you happy right now? In this moment...with me?" he asked again, smiling weakly at me.
"Of course I'm happy, I'm always happy with you," I replied, speaking softly as he had done.
"What about in general? Are you happy in general?"
"Yes, it's not often I feel sad or angry, unless something's bugging me or I'm scared or mad at someone, I'm generally happy," I answered, unsure of his sudden concern for me.
"Good..." he sighed, his eyes flicking everywhere as he gently squeezed my hand.
"What about you?" I questioned, seeing pain in his eyes.
"I'm ok, yeah, I just...miss..." he trailed off, rubbing his temple with his free hand.
"Who do you miss? You can talk to me," I reassured him.
"I miss having a girlfriend, you know, I just miss someone being there..." he mumbled, clearly lying.
"I miss having someone too, but that's not it, don't lie, it's not good to bottle up emotions, you can talk for as long as you want," I smiled.
"I-I miss...my dad," he admitted, slumping his shoulders back in defeat.
"Oh, Shayne...I'm sorry,"
"I'm never gonna see him again, Court...never," he choked, tears falling down his cheeks.
"I'm so sorry, but...you lost your father when you were 14, why's it all coming back now?" I asked, leaning forward in my chair a little more.
"It's his birthday today..." he whispered.
"Shayne...I don't know what I can do to help," I panicked, pushing my plate aside and pulling both Shayne and myself up out of our seats.
"Don't worry, all you have to do is be here," he said, smiling weakly again. I pulled him into hug as he started to cry more. Poor Shayne. He told me the story of how his father died when we first met, well a few months after.
He was crying on the floor hysterically at one of the office parties and when I sat down with him, he told me everything. Nobody else knew about how Shayne's father passed because it's not a particularly pleasant story. He hasn't even told Damien. I feel so bad for him. I feel a lot of things for him.
Like I thought earlier, I like him a lot. But what kind of like? I know. I know now. I...love him.
I love Shayne...?

(A/N)
Sorry for the shorter chapter...also I know the story about Shayne's father is nowhere near true but it's more for something down the line. Thanks for reading, and thank you so much for 1.75k reads, that's sooo many! Comment and vote if you like, thanks again. Peace out suckers!
Kitty x