Love

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(n.) an intense feeling of deep affection.

I think I love him. I really think I do. But I don't know how to tell him, and I'm scared, because I'm only fifteen. I still have my whole life ahead of me. Love shouldn't be bothering me yet. Not at this age. But it is, and I don't know what to do.

I was quietly observing people rather discreetly in a small cafe and writing thoughts in my journal. Days like this brought a sense of peace and relaxation to my life. Then the bell attached to the door rung, announcing the arrival of a newcomer. That's when the peace fluttering around inside of me quickly became nonexistent.

Jasper grinned at me as he sat down in the seat across from mine, just after he had bought a cup of coffee. "Didn't expect to see you here, Fallon," he said, flashing a brilliant smile.

I gulped and simply nodded, trying to hide the fact that he had just been invading my thoughts. My hands were a bit shaky as I closed the black faux leather journal I had been writing in and set it down beside me. Before I could stop him, Jasper was snatching it up as soon as he noticed it. "What have you been writing about?" he smirks.

"Hey, that's personal!" I protested, trying to get it back but his facial expressions began to contort, showing various expressions I can't name.

"I told you not to look," I whisper embarrassedly, looking down. Maybe I was expecting him to tease me about it, be angry, laugh at the stupidity. What I didn't expect him to say was:

"I think I love you, too," he murmured, his eyes burning into my body.

But that's exactly what he did.

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