ch.65

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"W-what happen to your pig tails, Darc?" Rich cleared his throat. He watched Darcy's face carefully. His gaze followed down from her wavy, platinum blonde hair, then to her chest.

"What happen to your lisp?" Darcy whispered, glancing down at Richard's mouth. Richard's gaze moved back to Darcy's eyes.

"I guess I grew out of it," he shrugged casually. He and Darcy stared at each other for a long moment, taking note of all the physical changes from the last ten years.

"Me too," Darcy nodded, crossing her arms over her chest.

I stepped to the side, watching as they rediscovered each other so nervously. Darcy's chest tightened up. Richard's fist open and closed in his pockets, as though he wanted to reach out and hug Darcy, but wasn't sure if she would want that. 

I shook my head. She wanted to kiss the life out of him right then and there, but she too was terribly nervous.

"How did you get so tall? Did you eat Miracle Grow or something?" she laughed.

Richard smiled shyly.

"Nah, just milk." He looked down at Darcy from his height advantage and his eyes "accidentally" peaked down her sweater. He coughed and looked up immediately. 

Darcy shoved playfully at his shoulder. Richard barely budged. "Remember that bruise I gave you, right on your cheek?" she laughed, recalling their first kiss. 

Her hand reached for his face and touched his cheek gently. Richard's jaw tightened. He didn't have his chubby, boyish cheeks anymore. His jaw was squared and a trail of dark brown stubble led a ways down his neck. Then it stopped and a few chest hairs appeared  from the tip of his sweater.

Richard had a strong build: broad shoulders, lean chest. He said he was on the wrestling team and Darcy was impressed, she just refused to admit it.

Richard placed his hand over Darcy's, guiding her movements. "You hit me really hard that day," he told her. She stared at his lips. "But it didn't hurt half as much as the day my family moved out of town...away from you," his voice trailed.

I put my hand over my mouth, in case I squealed in happiness. Richard still loved Darcy. He did. I knew he did. Brock never looked at Darcy the way Richard does. Brock used to glare at her as though she was his personally seasoned steak. Richard looks at Darcy as though she was a rare, crystalline daisy: he could see that she was real, that he wanted her, but he didn't feel worthy of looking at her, let alone having her.

I looked down at my wedding ring. Harry looked at me that way for years. I just didn't understand what it meant until the night he kissed me.

"Richie," Des grinned from the top of the stairs. He rushed down and punched Richard in the shoulder. Richard smiled awkwardly.

"H-hey Des, what's up?"

Darcy just stood there, watching them both. Des turned to Darcy.

"Something wrong, Darc?" he asked, confused as to why she was staring at his friend.

Darcy laughed lightly and tied her hair back.

"No, not at all. I'll just be in my room," she mumbled and half-ran to her bed. When she reached the top of the steps, she looked at Richard. Richard watched her, taking note of where her room was...

"So Ritchie, you're co-captain. What's it gonna take for me to get more matches in each game?" Des laughed.

"I forgot Darcy was your sister," Richard mumbled, as if out of breath.

Des blinked. "Yeah, I try to forget sometimes," he teased. 

Richard just stared at him.

"Why would you ever want to do that?" he gasped. Des laughed lightly.

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