Beside You

Always looked at you

We exchange 'hey's,' his long eyelashes lifting to see me, red hair being swept along with the wind. He had his guitar slung over an exposed shoulder, his oversized sweater's neckline draping lazily off of it. He goes to hold the door open with a sweater paw and kicks off his rugged combat boots, then makes a beeline for the couch, plopping his guitar down and scoping out my media. "Oh man, no gaming consoles, video games...I gotta introduce you to the good stuff. Have you ever heard of FIFA?" Without waiting for my answer, he picks up movies I own and starts chatting about each one.

I laugh and bring my guitar over to the living room. Strumming randomly, in a sing-song voice, I tease, "Did you come here to teach me guitar, or nah?"

He grins and swings his guitar over a propped knee, foot on couch, completely showing off with quick hand movements, plucking each chord melodiously. He sings to me, "Yes, and good thing too because you need a lot of help."

My jaw drops and I plop onto the couch in defeat. "Okay, I know I suck. You can stop shoving it in my face! Ha!"

He sticks out his tongue and smirks, and continues to tease with his lyrics, "Kath, needs my amazing lessons, because her skills give me depression," he whips around when I try to grab his guitar, laughing, "It sounds like a dying cat, it's going to take me a long time to fix that..." He cackles as I reach to grab his guitar, in an attempt to stop his game. He lifts it in the air, way out of my reach, and I end up grabbing his waist. I use it to my advantage and pull his towering figure down to the couch, bringing the guitar down with him.

Taking advantage of the shock, I snatch the instrument from his hands and hoist it above my head, "Ha! No more of that!"

He giggles from his place, lying on the couch, "Okay, let's start then. But," he slowly gets up and moves towards me--and I can tell he's getting more ideas, "these lessons," grinning wickedly, he grabs my hands by the wrists and easily pulls them down with his guitar, resting it between us, "how will you pay for them?" Both sitting crossed-legged on the couch, his hands were still on my wrists, pulling me towards him. I gulp. His green eyes were piercing into my soul, unblinking, waiting for my response, like a lion on a hunt. What does he mean? He seems to see the question in my eyes and gets self-conscious, snaps out of it and releases my hands. Grabbing the guitar he looks away, "Nah. I'm kidding, I'm your friend, so you're covered." The 'f' word takes a stab at my heart. No. I must have accidently said that out loud because Michael stops strumming and turns to face me again, "Huh?"

I blush and start to stutter, fidgeting with my fingers, "Um. I'll pay you..."

He shakes his head, "No, no, no. Sorry, I didn't mean--"

I felt so dizzy, my body went numb and I'm not sure I even made contact, but I took a deep breath and cut him off with a kiss near his mouth, pulling back immediately. I cover my face with my hands and I can feel the heat radiating from it from embarrassment, as I whisper, "Is that okay?" What happened next was all a blur. I felt him grab my wrists again and pull them around him, my body falling behind. He releases my hands to catch my face, directing it towards his. His soft lips part mine, pressing into them again and again, like he's been hungry for them for a long time.

I close my hands around his waist, but, shaking, Michael pulls back, my face cupped in his hands, his thumb catching the tear that managed to escape from my eye. His eyes full of worry, he asks, "What's wrong?"

I laugh through a sob, "I'm sorry. I don't know myself, because I am really happy, right now."

He relaxes and kisses my tears away through his grins, "Me too. Ugh. Me too!" He embraces me tightly and pulls me down to lay my head on his chest, my body between his legs. He talks into my hair at the top of my head, "I was so worried you didn't like me. Especially with those damn guys. Man I love my band, but they're real cock-blockers...their good looks and all." He chuckles telling me about the time Luke and him hated each other, back in school, over a girl. "I thought it was going to happen all over again--and we're best friends, now."

I talk to him whilst listening to his heartbeat--it matches mine, "Ha! You're a dumby on two parts: One, Luke and I are just friends and, two, you don't give yourself enough credit; I've always looked at you."

Michael groans and wraps his legs and arms around me and rolls us to our side, then snuggles closer as if the space between us wasn't close enough. "Kathleen, Kathleen, Kathleen," He plants a kiss on my face each time he chants my name, "Can you be my...girlfriend?" He suddenly blushes and has to look away. I squirm from the cuteness and can't help but giggle. I practically scream 'yes' into his chest. My reply receives a grin in return, "Well, I would've held you here until you said 'yes,' but I'm going to hold you here anyways because you're too cute. Let's skip guitar lessons today, shall we?"

"Ha. I'm fine with that."