Playing The Player

:Chapter Thirty-Three:

It was a lot easier saying that I wanted to talk than actually talking.

I had no idea what to say to Blake. Before, I had it all planned out; I would tell him that I was sorry, that I really, really, really liked him, and that I wanted to be with me. But suddenly a realisation dawned on me - what if he didn't like me anymore? It had only been a few days, but it wasn't like he had a sparkly clean reputation. I didn't know to accept rejection; not that I was good at accepting anything. Humiliation coated me every time I remembered how I had handled the situation when Blake told me he liked me. It wasn't very smooth, to say the least.

"Um," I started, rubbing my hand against my arm, "So, thanks. About Dylan. It was like the second time. Crazy right?" I let out a little half laugh, trying to lighten up the mood. Tension was so thick I probably could make a clean cut through it with a knife. We were seated on the benches in the deserted courtyard area, and since Dylan and left pretty quickly, we were alone. It was the chance I had wanted to talk to him, except... well, nothing.

He shrugged. "It had to be done."

What was I meant to say now? I was sorely tempted to make a remark on the weather like he had done before, but I didn't feel as though it was the right thing to do. I felt so, so awkward. All I wanted to do was for him to hold me, but how was I meant to say tell him that?

Hey Blake, can you hold me for a second?

Yeah, okay, no.

I stared down at my shoes. How cliché -- I was almost annoyed at myself, for being so cowardly. I was definitely not the girl with the biggest balls out there, but I definitely wasn't the shyest. Maybe the second shyest. Or the third. But by no way the first!

I took a deep breath, and looked up. Blake wasn't looking at me, his face cast to the side, so I couldn't see his expression, and I didn't like that. I liked, and as creepy and weird as it sounded, looking at his face, and I liked him looking at me, as creepy and weird as it sounded. I reached up and placed my hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at me. His expression was surprised, but he didn't cringe at my touch, which was a start.

"You're my hero," I whispered.

His eyes met mine with a burning sort of passion. Cliché and overused as it sounded, I knew in that moment that I wanted to be with him, for however long he wanted to be with me. He analysed my eyes, as though determining whether or not I was lying. I stared back, not giving up, because I knew that I didn't want to let things go. But minutes past, and I started panicking. What if he didn't like me anymore? I didn't know what I would do. Use my age against me, tell me I was only seventeen, but the feelings I had for Blake, the love I had for him felt like the real thing. The sort of love that was written in books, the sort of love that everyone wanted but could never have.

"I'm sorry I flipped out the first time," I had verbal diarrhoea against -- I couldn't stop talking, even though my brain was ordering me to stop. My mouth had a life of it's own. "I was panicking, and I had no idea what to do or say, I wanted to tell you how I felt but how could I when I thought what you had said was just a phase? I thought it might've been part of the stupid game and," I started tearing up, the hand that was on Blake's face dropping down to my side as I lowered my face, "and, I don't want to get played, I don't want to be part of a game that's might hurt me or you and I know that's no excuse but the truth is that I had no fucking -- "

Blake pressed his finger against my lips, silencing me immediately. His head was cocked to the side in almost fascination. "You just swore."

My hand flew up to my mouth, a gasp escaping me as I realised what I had said. Panic took over my nerves again, and my heartbeat sped up.

To my surprise, Blake smiled -- a real genuine smile, and it looked damn good on him. "You like me?"

I nodded slowly. "A lot. More than a lot. So much. So much more than a lot. Like a lot plus --"

It turned out that was a cure to verbal diarrhoea. It was painless, effective, and a nice sensation that spread across your body like wildfire, only soft. It did, however, put all your sense on alert. Side effects included heightened hormones, a rush of blood to your head, and giddiness.

The cure?

Kissing.

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Hey you, yes you with the face, you're fucking AMAZING. :)