What If...

Chapter two

Are we in a relationship? I don't know. Does he want to continue what we started last night? I don't know. Does he think I'm cute? Why did he kiss me? Was it just to make me feel better? Why can't I stop thinking about him?

These thoughts consume my mind as I lay awake, sprawled out on my bed as the morning light slowly creeps in from the window and warms my body. Kile Woodrick; always causing problems.

I sigh as I get up knowing I'll have a long day ahead of me. However, as my maid dresses me, I feel a shift in my mood. I don't feel as hopeless, as useless, as before. It's hard to explain, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

As I head down for breakfast I allow my mind to wonder off, expecting to be alone on my usual walk to the dinning hall. As I'm turning a corner, however, I see Kile appear. Should I say something? Is he going to say something? Ah, how do I make this not awkward?

I'm about to acknowledge him verbally when he stuffs something in my hand. As I look back up at him he gives me a wink. Then, he vanishes.

As I uncrumble the scrap piece of paper he gave me, I feel a sense of joy. He seeked me out. He wanted to find me. He wanted to give me this top secret important message only meant for my eyes. My hands are shaking as it opens.

Our spot. 12 AM.

AHHH. He wants to see me again. I can't believe he wants to see me again.

The rest of the day drags on in an antagonizingly long way. I go to budget meetings, but nothing sinks into my brain. I eat food, but nothing tastes like anything. My mind is on a permanent vacation to Kileville, population: 1.

As I head back from dinner I consider what I should wear. It would seem odd to be walking around in a night dress at midnight, however, Kile might find it weird for me to wear one of my nightgowns because I knew about this meeting.

In the end, I settle on a nice day dress that is silky, like my nightgown, but doesn't quite have that 'I'm ready for bed feel.' I wait as patiently as I can for 11:50 to roll around. I bounce my leg on the ground for the entire time. At 11:00, I can't take it anymore. I just leave.

I'm surprised to see that he is already there. I walk over and slide my back down the tree. I look at his face and I'm lost in his eyes. He has dark eyes, but there're full of mystery. I could stare into his eyes for a million minutes and never discover what I'm searching for.

"You look beautiful," he says. A risky move but I don't care. The next thing I do surprises even myself.

I lean forwards and collide my lips into his. His hands migrate from my hair to my back and down my sides. I can feel the magnetic connection pulling me towards him and him towards me. The heat comforts and excites me. I never want to let go.

As I lean away he laughs.

"What?" I ask accusingly, but also feeling somewhat embarrassed.

"Well hello to you too!" He says with a goofish grin that makes me throw back my head and laugh. He smiles at me.

"Eadlyn?" He asks shifting the mood to a more serious one.

"Yes?" I answer not ready for our happy go lucky attitudes to be gone yet.

"What are we doing?" A loaded question.

"I don't know." A honest response.

What are we doing? We've know each other since before we could walk and now all of the sudden something is happening...how real is this. Don't people know within the first 24 hours of meeting someone that they love them? Had we just not really seen each other?

"Well," he starts up the conversation again. "Whatever it is, I'm glad it's happening."

"Me too," I answer. "And who would've thought. You and me? We were practically at each other's throats whenever we had an encounter."

"Well, actually" he starts off again a little guilty looking. "I've had a crush on you ever since I knew what love was. I just annoyed you cause I didn't know how to handle it, or what else to do."

Aw! Come to think of it maybe I was always so quick with my responses because I could feel the heat there. I could sense a burning passion. I could tell that he was there, right in front of me, my person.

Kile Woodrick: my person.