...

His lips taste like home.

I have no idea how, and I have no idea if I'm kissing him correctly, but oh my, this is actually happening. And I can't get enough of it.

I'm kissing Will Nox.

I'M KISSING WILL NOX?!?!

What the hell?

He's a good kisser. Definitely. Yup. My fingers are weaved into his hair, something I've wanted to do for a long time coming. It feels like sparks are erupting on my skin from where his fingers are holding my cheeks and the sparks shoot down to my toes.

They're everywhere.

And I don't mind.

We pull away from each other, and I try to catch my breath. I look into his eyes, and for the first time, I can't tell what he's feeling.

We're sitting in silence, watching the sun go down.

"I feel like I should say something." I say, watching how the dusk makes his golden hair reflect a myraid of colours.

"You don't have to say anything at all." He says, smiling nervously.

I feel like, for just a second, I should ask what are we? but I'm afraid to hear his answer. I already know what it is.

Will, I think, you're so goddamn beautiful. And I know boys aren't meant to be beautiful. They're meant to be tragic and horrible and rip my heart to pieces. And maybe you will destroy me, but it will be in the best way possible.

Will reaches for my hand and I look towards him as he's oblivious to my thoughts. He smiles as I blush and we watch the sky set on fire, still holding hands.

Together.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's Wednesday. So far, Will and I have met up once this week after school and we'll meet up again today, for the project.

Next week, it will be over.

It will all be over.

Will I regret this?

...

Why am I doing this?

I look into the mirror above a sink in the girls' bathroom. I look like a mess. Disheveled and unkempt.

No wonder.

For the whole weekend I had been going in between that ghastly essay I had left until the last second in my bedroom, texting Will and wondering if what I'm going to do is right. I mean, I did just kiss him. I can't...

I can't do it.

I can't hurt him.

I can't hurt Will Nox. I can't hurt myself because it'll hurt him. It will hurt him more than it hurts me.

I don't think dying would hurt at all.

But to Will... Oh, I can't do it. Why can't I hurt him?

Because you luuuuuurve him.
- the stupid part of my brain.

No I don't.

Yes you do.

Oh, what the hell?

Well, at least I know one reason why maybe I don't want to hurt him. But first, I've got to sort my feelings out. Yup.

I get out a notepad and write inside of it:

To do list-
- An excessive amount of homework
- Kill the spider on top of my wardrobe
- Hold a funeral for the dead spider
- Finish the project with Will
- Sort out feelings
- Burn this list
- Kill myself?

I can't stop myself from putting a question mark on the end of the last point, but before I can cross it out, the bell rings. In a few minutes, I'll meet up with Will for the project. Maybe we'll talk about what happened on Friday. Last time we met up (Monday), Will barely even spoke to me and I was way too nervous to speak to him first about the kiss, so it was mainly me, watching him blush and then I'd blush harder. Honestly, we may as well have been chasing cars, because we were hardly doing any work.

Soon, I meet up with Will in the school library. "Hey." He says, approaching me, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Hi." I say shyly, fiddling with my sleeves. He sits next to me, behind the bookshelves. "So..." I say.

"Soooo..." He says. "How are you?"

"I'm good." I say. "You?"

"Great."

We sit in silence.

"On the presentation, I was wondering if we should mention the contrast inbetween sanity and insanity." I say, growing tired of the quiet.

"Sure." Will says, leaning back, his eyes half-hidden behind his thick eyelashes.

"So, Clarissa is preparing for a party having a thought trail that shows how her thoughts grow from positive to dark whilst Septimus has PTSD from fighting in the war and witnessing his best friend's death and is being treated by Dr. Holmes who can't begin to understand his feelings." I begin to speak. "Also, Clarissa has to sleep alone in an attic because her husband insists. Septimus is given the rest cure, and his physician believes that there's nothing wrong with him and constantly diminishes his feelings."

"Wow." Will says.

"I did some more research." I admit, shrugging. "Virginia Woolf was victim to the rest cure as well, which isn't as nice as it sounds."

"I've been thinking about last Friday. About our kiss." Will says suddenly.

Blunt much? Straight to the point I guess...

"What about it?" I ask nervously. "Do you regret it?" Because wouldn't that be the least cliche thing ever?

"No! No... No." Will says, shaking his head, some of his golden hair falling in front of his eyes. "It's just..." Will looks into my eyes as he speaks and at my anxious expression.

"It's just that it was a good kiss." Will says finally. "That's all." His face reddens and he avoids my eye contact.

Haha he's nervous.

Welp, so am I.

"That's it?" I ask, just to clarify. I can't help but feel a little disappointed. Will purses his lips. I need to know if Will and I will become something, because if we will, then that might alter my decision completely. I don't want to miss out on what we could be, I don't want to miss out on being a part of something. Because after next week, I might never see his smile again. The whole thought makes me horrifically sad.

"Yeah." He says, his voice strained. "Yeah, that's it."

He looks away from me and I admire him like I always do. The way his golden skin stretches over his muscles and you can see the faint blue outline of his veins, how his golden hair falls over his deep blue eyes and the faint white scars on his hands which each tell their own story.

Too bad that I won't be around to hear them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Will and I plan to meet up three more times before the presentation lesson on Friday. 3 more times ; 3 last times. It's sad to think about your own death.

It's sadder to plan it.

The worst part is missing things that I haven't lost yet. Or the nostalgia. The nostalgia kills. Somedays I have this sudden urge to eat a certain cereal that I ate as a child, or to actually have a conversation with someone. It's like I'm trying to make the best of what I have left even though I'm supposed to be in control. But that's the thing ; I don't think I am anymore.
.............................................................
Hi! Thanks for reading this chapter, it means the world to me.

This chapter was hard for me because I couldn't decide whether I wanted Will to ask Ghost out on a date or not. So, yeah. Lol, sorry for being a disappointment (tbh you should be used to it now). I just find it a little unrealistic from my point of view and don't know exactly how to introduce it.

But I have some ideas! Albeit, they're all tragic (oof spoiler alert) but I'm at an unpredictable point in the story where anything can happen, so I honestly have no idea what I'm doing and what's going to happen.

Who said that writing was hard?

*slumps forwards in chair and starts laughing hysterically and then sobbing*

Although I'm a little sleep deprived and not going to lie, depressed (bc that's what writing depressing stories does to you) but I think coffee can solve all of my problems. How are you all feeling?

Anyhoo, don't forget to like and subscribe (wait, wrong-). 💛

~CatlikeG