Girl (completed)

19

"Hey, what's been going on? I feel like we haven't talked in ages," Taylor said, and I nodded and bit my cheek.
"My mom just got into an accident. She's gonna be okay though," I said, and he furrowed his eyebrows.
"Why didn't you tell me that, love?" He asked, and I shrugged, wanting to quickly end the conversation. For whatever reason, I didn't feel like talking to Taylor.
"Okay, well..." he started, but then someone stepped up onto the porch, startling me a bit.
"Blaine, can I speak with you?" I heard, and I immediately smiled when I recognized the figure as John, which I think bothered Taylor a bit.
"We're actually talking," he interjected, and I frowned, wanting to instead talk to John.
"Well we were just finishing up. I'll see you later, okay?" I said, and Taylor shot a look at John, staring daggers into him.
   "Okay, see you later," he said through gritted teeth, obviously upset, but I didn't care. I hadn't really talked to John in a while.
   After Taylor left, John turned to me, and I ran into his arms, hugging him tightly. He I me back weakly, and it was discouraging. I just held him for a moment without caring wether or not he wanted me to.
   "I've missed you. I've missed talking to you," I said, and John but his cheek, weakly forcing a smile.
   "Yeah, I've missed you too," he said, but it seemed fake. It seemed like he really wanted nothing more than to walk away from me, to leave me standing alone on my dimly lit porch, looking up at the moon that everyone in my life looked at, and that somehow felt lonelier. Having his presence felt lonelier than if I just had to imagine him being there, because in my imagination, I was talking with the old John. The John that I'd met as a scrawny eight year old, and grew close to as the years flew by. Not this cold John that iced me out.
   "John, why are you here?" I asked, because it was obvious that this wasn't going to be one of our usual porch talks. No, he was here for business.
   "Well that's rude. Can't a guy pay a visit to his favorite bird without all of this scrutiny?" He asked, and I raised an eyebrow at him. He sighed dramatically before continuing, "you're right. I just wanted to come here to see you one last time before I let you go," he said, and I inhaled sharply. His words hurt me deeply, and I never thought he would intentionally hurt me.
  Tears began to fall, and I cursed my self for letting them.
  "Blaire, don't cry. Please, don't cry. This is what's best. You have Taylor now, and I can't keep waiting for you when you're never going to come. It's not fair," he said, and I sniffed, nodding my head in a mutual agreement.
"Sometimes I like to close my eyes and imagine I'm in a different land. One where we could be together," I said, closing my eyes and imagining it now. I could feel him looking at me, but I didn't open my eyes.
"That seems sad, to never get that but to lust after it," he said, and I could feel him shift closer to me, his breath hitting my face.
"I like to think that life is easier with eyes closed," I said, and I felt him draw even nearer, our lips mere inches apart.
"I think if your eyes are always closed, you miss the beauty standing right in front of you," he said, and I waited for him to kiss me, but he drew back. I opened my eyes, sighing in disappointment to see him walking away.
   "Where are you going?" I asked, and he opened the gate, turning towards me.
   "I have to get home before it rains," he said, and I nodded, trying to stifle my disappointment.
   I sat outside for a while, shadowed on the darkness of my porch before the downpour began. I got drenched almost immediately, and that's when I realized something. I realized that I had to do this, and that I should have done it a while ago.
  As I ran through the streets of Liverpool, he kept flashing back into my mind. Images of him swirling through my thoughts as I ran, the rain pounding on my back and licking my skin.
  When I got there, it had let up a bit, but it was still raining lightly. I picked up a few stones from the ground and chucked them at his window. After a few, he slid it open and poked his head out, partially getting his hair wet.
  "Blaine? What the hell?" He shouted, and teas streamed down my face. I don't know when they began, but I couldn't seem to stop them.
  "Why didn't you kiss me?" I yelled, crying hysterically and closing my eyes for a moment.
  "What?" He shouted, but I knew that he was asking out of fake confusion. He was being coy.
  "Why didn't you kiss me?" I yelled again, my voice breaking again as I sniffed, shivering in my wet clothes that clung to my body.
  He went back in and closed his window, only to appear outside with me a moment later through the front door.
   "Blaise..." he started, and I tried my best to wipe away my tears with my soaked jacket sleeve, but to no avail.
   "Why didn't you kiss me?" I said again, quietly this time, and he pushed my drenched hair behind my ear.
   "It hurts too much to kiss you," he said, but then sighed, "but it also hurts too much not to," he finished, and then took my face in his cupped hands, kissing me passionately, instantly making our shivering bodies warm with each other's touch.
   So many memories lied beneath the kiss, and there was only one thing I didn't think of in that moment; Taylor.
•••
Heck.