Prompt: "I shouldn't have done that.."
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"Stop hogging all the blanket Frenchman!" Your words are filled with giggles as you tug the blanket you were supposed to be sharing with your best friend, Pierre. However, he had the entire thing around him while you were left with a little sliver of it.
"Did you use 'Frenchman' as an insult?" He ask with playfully narrowed eyes. You purse your lips and nod.
He gasp dramatic and tugs the blanket even more towards him. You copy his gasp and pull the blanket towards you. Quickly a game of playful tug of war over the blanket begins.
But what started as a lighthearted moment between two friends, turns to a moment of tension.
Pierre had tugged the blanket a little too hard and you fell his way, and through your laughter you didn't realize you fell onto his lap. Your chest fell together and his hand caught your waist to steady you.
It's only when Pierres laughter faded that you realized why. Your breath got caught in your throat when you realized you were millimeters away from him, one sudden movement and your lips would be on his.
You both pushed, your eyes gazing into each others. His blue eyes like an steady tide, drawing you in with a sense of mystery yet tranquility. It pulled you in, figuratively and literally.
And it was the same for him. He couldn't help but get lost in your eyes, the same eyes he'd been in love with since he met you. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as a heavy tension settled in the air.
Unconsciously, you both lean in. Your lips captured the others, a slow and gentle kiss turned passionate as he pulled you closer to him. Your hand came around to cup the back of his neck as his hands came to hold your lower back. It felt perfect, the silly fireworks everyone always talked about happening just as they described.
Both of your minds going a mile a minute but for a very different reason.
You were ecstatic, were you seriously about to kiss the guy you've had the biggest crush on for a different reason?
But Pierre's head was in a different space.
He was so happy he finally worked up the nerve to share his feelings for you. But then his thoughts went deeper. Yes he loved you, loved you more than he thought he ever could love another person. But then he remembered his track record with women, how he did nothing but screw up and break other women's heart.
His heart almost stopped. He couldn't do that to you. He wouldn't ruin the heart of his best friend, not by doing something stupid. He loved you so much he sometimes daydreamed about finally telling you just to see what would happened.
But he also loved you too much to try and fail. He couldn't lose you.
He'd rather have you like a friend, as hard as it was, than as nothing at all.
So while every part of him begged to continue kissing the one girl he truly felt love and adoration to, he pulled back.
You looked up at him with a loving daze in your eyes. But when you saw the look of regret and sadness in your eyes, the love daze became a confusing haze.
"Pierre-" you start to say, trying to think of anything to say but he cut you off. He slid you off of him and quickly stood up, anxiously running his hands through his hair.
You tried to talk to him but he kept shaking his head, repeating the words 'no' aloud twice to himself before turning to you.
"I shouldn't have done that..." he tells you and the high you just felt comes crashing down. Leaving your heart in your throat at the look of regret in Pierre's eyes.
"I'm sorry" he quickly says and grabs his jacket off the back of the couch and speed walks towards the door.
"Pierre wait" you say, trying to hide the feelings of hurt stuck in your throat. You quickly stand up to follow him but he's out the door before you can catch up.
There's a sting in your eyes as you look at the door he just ran out of. Insecurity ate away at you, making your heart thud sharply and painfully in your chest.
What did I do wrong?
Pierre Is into models, and I'm not a model...
Am I just not good enough to be more than a friend?
Your eyes continue to sting as you back away and stumble to sit on the couch you and Pierre once sat on together and shared a moment you thought would, finally, be a turning point for your relationship.
You went from cloud nine, up in the clouds of relief and happiness only to slam back down to reality.
A reality where you clearly weren't pretty enough for Pierre. Needles pricked your heart and made your hand cover your mouth to quiet the small cries that left your lips.
It hurt more than you thought it would. When you finally thought you saw a reflection of your feelings in Pierre's eyes, you were brutally reminded that it was never a possibility.
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Some sick part of
me loves writing angst
Also what do we think about
a part two to this?
