Innocent Lester | p.l.

ⓣ

The end.

That's what it felt like. Dan had freaked me out. Are we having sex? I extremely doubt it. She's not that type of person. And neither am I- I can't even tell if we're dating.

I began to text her as I walked through the stuffy air outside to the building she stayed at.

so close yet so far

She responded within milliseconds.

from what

oh! from my place?

...

are you saying that you're on your way

I've actually already entered the building but yea- spot on

shut up

God, I love her. And I can say it forever. But can I say it out loud? Will she even respond? How?

If I screamed would she still hear me?

I finally made it to her dorm, which felt like ages to reach, and I knocked on her door. I watched the door open and the smile she had on made me smile the same; but hers was better. I opened my mouth slowly to greet her, but she pulls me in before I could speak and she closes the door. We face each other and I laugh. "Hello to you too." She laughs back and walks up to me. Her hands were cold as they grabbed my cheeks and pulled me down toward her and we kissed. Separating, she grins widely.

"Hi."

I begin to sweat at the remembrance of Dan's "gift" that relaxes in my pocket and my body stiffens. I nervously remove myself from her grasp and sit on her bed. "What's up," I start my conversation, hoping to distract myself from my immature issue. "I was promised wine."

"Were you now? Because I don't remember signing a contract for it or shaking on it," she protests, then turns to her fridge. "But, yes, I have wine."

I watch her take the large bottle out and set it beside two glasses. I guess they were already out waiting for me to arrive.

I can't get the thought of rubbers sitting in my pocket out of my head. I'm afraid she'll notice them and think I was here for something rather than spending quality time with her. Not that snogging her wouldn't be considered quality time, but it's not what I'm after. I take a breath, reassuring me I'm still alive and here.

"You don't mind white wine, do you?" Her voice came in to my head and I realize she was speaking to me.

"Oh, no. Not at all."

She walks over and sits beside me with both of our drinks in her hand and she hands me one. We cheers and I sip carefully. My anxiety begins to grow as the thought of my condoms do. The more I think about it the more it makes me want to toss them out and confront Dan. Confront him on how much he's worried me.

"So," she begins, staring at me, but she doesn't finish as her facials drop and her eyebrows emerge. "What's troubling you?"

"Nothing." I shake my head, taking another drink at my glass and stare down at my legs and pants. "Nothing at all," I murmur.

She looks down at her own legs and back up at my eyes. She can tell something is wrong, but it's not as big of a deal as she assumes. "What is it?"

"Trust me, it is absolutely nothing important. How was your day?" I attempt to change the subject but fail as she keeps it on this one.

"Fine, are you sure you're okay? You seem..." she trails off, trying to find her words. "Is it Dan?"

I shrug, looking into her eyes to calm myself. "You know him. Immature prick," I laugh it off. "He's just worried me, that's all."

Her head tilts to the side and she sighs, "oh, Phil, why?"

She cares. But she cares too much. If she was reading my mind, she'd let this slide, not continue the issue.

"He's just... he had handed me something and I don't-..." I'm embarrassed to admit what I'm carrying. It's not who I am. I don't care about this.

"Phil-"

"Dan had given me condoms for tonight and he was telling me that this was the night, even if I had specifically told him I wasn't up for that, he put them in my hand and I stashed them in my pocket to keep him quiet and I don't want you to think I'm only here to have sex with you, but I'm here to spend time and congratulate you on passing your test..." I was now breathing slightly heavy after I spit that out in a single breath and she began to laugh. I looked at her in confusion and she lays back on her bed, holding the bottom of her glass on her stomach so it doesn't spill. I do the same beside her and pull out the rubbers from my pocket and toss them in between us.

"Ew," she cackles as I watch her chest move up and down. "I don't want them."

"Well, neither do I!" I shriek, laughing with her. We were silent for a minute or so. A good silence. As if we spoke with the noises around us, the wind from outside and the steps from her neighbors. Then she spoke.

"Do you not want to?"

She didn't turn to me but I turned to her. "It's not my number one priority."

She puckered her lips then relaxed them. "Good to know."

We were quiet again. This time I spoke up, "do you not want to?"

She shrugs and I face the ceiling again. "It's not my number one priority."

This brings a question to my head and I begin to contemplate us and who we are as a pair. Are we dating?
"What are we?" I unintentionally released from my mouth. It was more of a whisper or murmur. She didn't shrug or make any other facial expressions.

"Depends what you want us to be."

Lovers. Taken. Dating. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Happy.

"What if I want you to decide."

"I'd stay silent and wait for you to make a move."

"I feel as if you've been making the moves lately."

...

"That's why it's your turn."

...

"We're dating."

...

"Okay."