Hazel Eyes: A SUMMER WAYHAUGHT

I'm sorry

-Nicole's POV-

37 hours. Exactly 37 long, inexplicable and lonely, 'mother fricking' hours. Since Waverly had sent me this one last, simple text:

20h03: I'm sorry I can't make it tonight. Something just came up and I'm not sure if I'll be able to reach out to you again. Thanks for being here this week. Goodbye Nicole,
Waverly.

Of course, (right after a deep breath in and out), I immediately answered:

21h06: Hey Waverly, I hope you're alright. You know, I'm here if you need anything. I'm free, for you, 24h/7. See you around, I wish. Nicole.

Saying that I was disappointed and therefore, a little hurt was an understatement. But to be honest, I was mostly, really confused.
I couldn't wrap my head around her personality, and it was making me crazy.

Hear me out. I'm not the type to take control over someone or assume anything about them. I know human beings are super complex and no one can fit under one label. Plus, in my life, I never initiated the first kiss, since, I always knew my heart could never handle the feeling of rejection and its consequences.

But Waverly was an entirely new world to me. Ever, since we met, she took a large place inside of me: in my heart, on my skin, in my head. She was always there.

And even if it wasn't for becoming my lover, I always knew she was going to be special to me. Guess the universe gave us plenty of moments to figure that out. And, for an unknown reason, I couldn't face giving all up.

At first, I kind of always had excuses. I mean like, on the boat we had just nearly died. On her birthday we were kind of overwhelmed. Then, that night, she was sad and drunk.

But no matter how hard I tried. Every time, the thought of, her warm lips melting on mine, the feeling of her burning skin under my fingers, made me shiver. And for once, there were just no other excuses or explanations.

My knees felt weak for a quick second. Because it was real. Our kiss was real. And the memory was too strong. I felt it. I could still feel it. And I remembered the look in her eyes.

By it, I could bet we were both equally aching for more.

Or maybe I had made this up. Maybe I wanted her too much to admit that she felt otherwise. Shit.

Maybe it was all a dream? Or a nightmare at this point.

Eventually, hours after hours, I grew scared and guilty. I started to think that I had spooked her away.

From the start, I was too intimate. I brought her back drunk at my place. I let her open up to me. I climbed over most of the thick walls she had strongly held on to, for the past months.

And I finally kissed her.

Fuck.

I messed everything up.

And as every minute started to blend with the other. I wasn't sure anymore if she had ever kissed me back. I couldn't even quite remember what she said.

And I had lost her. I had become 'Nicole: The incapable of keeping her hand in her pants, and her tongue in her mouth'

And now what? She hated me. I knew it. I felt it. Something was really wrong.

And I couldn't stop thinking about it. About her. About us.

And it was consuming me.

Oh, Fuck you, stupid destiny. Why did I have to be like this?

Just tell me why, did I HAVE to fall in a WEEK for a straight girl that I was never going to see again. And on top of it, why did I HAVE to be the average stupid lesbian, too caught up inside my thoughts and selfishness to even realize that Waverly may have never wanted any of this in the first place.