Isabella & Levi | ✓

four

        "Levi," Georgia cooed, a purr resonating from her throat, "you're so funny." Her hands stroked his arm as he tensed up.

        His eyes flickered over to Kyle to ask for some help or at least a, "you totally owe me," but dear Argentinian Kyle was sucking face with British Cora.

        "Do you want to go out-" he asked, but was then abruptly cut off by a squeal.

        "Yes," she answered with a wide beam.

        His stomach was in knots as he completed his question, "-outside?"

        Her body deflated a bit, but she nodded, walking out the wooden doors in front of him.

        "Georgia," Levi started, grabbing one of her hands and then quickly regretting the wrong message it sent, "I like you, as a friend," he swiftly added.

        "You're nice, and funny, and pretty, and-" he was again cut off but this time by a sigh.

        An expression of hurt so raw and so powerful flashed through her eyes, and for a moment, Levi considered lying to her just to prevent her from feeling so awful. "Just start from the but, Levi. There's no need to boost my ego before you break the news, so just start at the but," she said monotonously.

        Levi was surprised at how composed she was, how rehearsed her reaction seemed, and for another second, he thought of how many times this must've happened to her.

        "I like someone else," he admitted.

        She flashed a shaky smile before nodding. "I understand," she responded. "It's hard, you know, to just shut down your feelings. You can't just reverse them, go back to a time when you weren't burdened with that feeling in the pit of your heart. I think I'd know that better than most people," she said with a humorous laugh.

        "I'm sorry," Levi felt the need to say.

        She got up to face him and pushed a few stray hairs back into place. "There's no need, Levi, really. But if," she paused," if this girl, whoever she is, doesn't like you back, you could always," she stopped again, "-I'll always be there."

        He got up and hugged her, feeling her shaky uneven breaths on his chest.

        "I wish you weren't hugging me goodbye," she admitted as she tried to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

        "Me too," he muttered into her hair.

        And he spoke the truth. Georgia was beautiful; Isabella was beautiful. Georgia was intelligent; Isabella was intelligent. But Georgia was simple, she was easy to please.

        She didn't have to be chased; she didn't mind being the chaser. Levi should've loved Georgia, should've married her, had two kids, live in a white picket fenced house.

        But with Isabella, Levi could live in castles or cottages, in places far and near. With Georgia, things were safe, secure, planned, but Levi didn't want that.

        Isabella made his stomach do as many flips as an acrobat, made his mouth hum as many happy tunes as Mickey Mouse, and that was never something Georgia could do.

        Georgia could reach for all the stars Levi ever wished for and placed them by his bedside, but Isabella was a shooting star, so rare, and so hard to catch.

        That was what Levi wanted; she was who Levi wanted.