I'm waiting for Will, on the bleachers outside, watching him practice football. He said that the practice wouldn't take long, and at the moment, I'm doing a mixture of admiring him, reading Mrs. Dalloway and procrastinating.

He's not bad at sport. In fact, he's the complete opposite - he's amazing. I don't think that I can even run a lap without wheezing.

Or collapsing.

... Shut up, brain.

I look up from my book and shield my eyes from the sunlight. Me and the outdoors don't mix that well, hence the pale skin. Adjusting my glasses (they always seem too loose), I close my book and put it in my bag, giving in. Intently, I watch Will and the game. He scores a goal and runs his hand through his hair. I almost die when he turns around and winks at me.

Then, a (stereotypically blonde, probably fake blonde anyway) cheerleader wraps her arms around Will's neck as all of his friends make ooh noises and surround him.

I feel sick.

I don't want to watch what happens, but I don't want to make assumptions as to what might happen. Should I leave? Why should I? I said that I'd wait for him... I don't want to be like those stereotypical characters that everyone despises in books.

Maybe I should just wait. Yup. That's what I'll do. It's not as if they're...

Oh.

Ohhh.

Okay then.

Welp.

Damnit brain!

The blonde cheerleader was leaning into Will and kissing him. I start coughing. I don't reach for my inhaler, and just watch everything unfold. It feels like my heart is slowly breaking.

I never really understood the word unfold. Now I do. I feel like a beautiful paper crane (minus the beautiful part), that's been unfolded and then ripped to pieces and drifted to the ground slowly, in paper snowflakes. It's coming undone.

I feel like I should leave.

But it's not as if they're getting any privacy anyway.

I watch Will pull away. I expect him to be angry, maybe, or if not at least happy. He doesn't even look confused. The cheerleader hugs him and runs away happily to her friends, laughing, waving at him. He just stands there. He looks numb.

It's only when he looks at me that I can tell how he feels. Immediately, as he looks at me, at my confused facial expression, his facade crumbles.

He looks like a man who's just lost everything.

Why does he look so sad?

I can't help but feel hurt. My eyes are stinging from the cold wind and the false feeling of him betraying me, and after all of that, he's not even happy! I wouldn't mind at all if he kisses anyone he pleases, as long as it makes him happy. After a few seconds, Will replaces his facial expression for something plain. But I can see a glint of a feeling in his eyes. I just can't tell which one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Will turns off the radio in the car and turns on the ignition. His fists are clutching the wheel so tight, they're white and he's avoiding my eye contact. It soon comes to my realization that he's angry at me. "I'm sorry if there's anything I did wrong, but it would make it easier if you at least spoke to me." I say honestly, folding my arms.

Will starts driving, ignoring me. "You know, in the normal circumstances, I'd be happy that you're keeping your eyes on the road, but I have a feeling that you're that kind of person who would drive with their eyes closed. Honestly." I say, again. Gosh, he's talkative, isn't he?

"You were meant to feel angry." He says finally, in a bitter voice. "You were meant to leave."

"I didn't sit outside for over half an hour watching boys fishing balls out of hedges, to suddenly leave." I say, jokingly. "If you don't like me, you can just say so." I add, seriously.

"No!" Will says, tense. "It's not that." He adds calmly. "I... It's the opposite."

Is he nervous?

I wait for him to explain. "I... I like you too much." He says.

Like? Like?

Why do I sound like an excited middle schooler?

"I like the way how your eyes sparkle after you finish a book. I like the way your voice sounds when you're reading to me. I like the way that you blush when our hands touch or when we stand too close to each other." He says, taking a deep breath. "And I can't sleep, because every night your stormy eyes haunt my dreams."

I blink slowly. I try my hardest not to blush.

Damnit.

I blush anyway. I'm the least social person I know and the least romantically involved - I've never kissed anyone and I've never been anyone's girlfriend. But I would make an exception for Will. I know I would. But it doesn't mean that he would too.

"You wanted to push me away?" I ask.

"No." Will shakes his head. "I wanted to see if you would stay." He says quietly. He doesn't need to explain anything, I understand exactly what he means.

He wanted a reason not to like me.

And he can't find one.

Point to Ghost. Nil to Will.

Hey! That rhymes!

Will stops the car ; we're outside his house (the one from before). We exit the car. "Is it okay if we go to the gardens? I want to talk to you." Will asks. I nod and follow him.

The gardens are, of course, beautiful. I wonder how each hedge is so neatly trimmed when I can't see any gardeners. There's a pebbled path which we follow, with arches of red roses, lavender, wild daisies and neat bushes and large trees. Will sits down on an elegant white metal bench and I sit down next to him.

His golden hair looks as if it's made from a thousand strands of gold and I resist the urge to run my hands through it. I can't help but drown in his ocean eyes, so blue and so clear, it's as if the water drowns all of my sorrows as well. I practically have to peel my eyes off of his lips because if I stare too long I can't help but wonder what they taste like-

"I'm sorry." Will says. "I should be doing everything I can to help you instead of what I'm actually doing. I hoped that when I was with you, I would be less selfish."

"Kissing someone else isn't selfish." I say, and he looks hurt to be reminded of that.

"No, I meant selfish in a way that whenever I'm around you I don't have control."

"Will?" I ask, concerned.

"I mean... While you're hurting, I can't stop thinking about how much I want to kiss you. You know when I said that you looked pretty? I was wrong." He says, nervously. "You're absolutely beautiful."

...

...

I think that it's safe to say that I wasn't expecting that.

Will starts speaking again, but it all drowns out when I look at his lips. Is it wrong to kiss someone minutes after they've kissed someone who isn't you?

Probably.

But who cares? I don't want a fairytale first kiss.

I interrupt Will. "I know I'm going to sound like some pre-teen when I say this, but I really like you Will. A lot. I like the fact that when I wore your jacket, it smelt like you. And I think I'm in love with your eyes." I say, blushing.

Will looks at me, eyes wide. I think it's safe to say that he wasn't expecting that either. His cheeks redden and he smiles at me, the way he always does, making my heart melt.

I don't have time to say anything before Will gently cups my face and our lips touch and I feel sparks dance across all of my skin.
...............................................................
And then I woke up.

Nah, just kidding! Sorry, I know that no one wants to read author's notes after dramatic cliffhangers and kissing scenes, but I'm going to go ahead and speak anyway.

I can't actually write kissing scenes (so I probably shouldn't be writing a romance) but I'll try. At some point. In the very, very distant future (Seriously though, I'll try for the next chapter).

All kidding aside, I'll try my best for the next chapter though.

But thank you so much for reading! It means so much to me and I cannot begin to say how much I appreciate all of you. 💛

~CatlikeG