“I love you.” Three little words.

“I love you.” The words sounded funny, foreign to her, rolling off her tongue like that. They sounded new, like a different language she had only just started learning. So she tried it again.

“I love you,” this time she tried it with a small smile and then stopped. Now it just sounded stupid, insignificant. It wasn’t. She knew just how much they meant.

She didn’t really understand it. She had said the words before, to family, to friends. There it slipped out easily. Flippantly even. She could wave the words off then. But not now.

So she decided to try it again. One more time and deep breaths.

“I love you.” She understood now, the uneasiness that slipped behind the words. It wasn’t like they said.

No roses and rainbows. No violins in the magic air. Not even a single bird twittering.

No this was much more, this was real. This, as they put it, was life. Real life.

And life was made for the persistent.

“I love you.” Yes. She understood now, why the words so damn hard to say. Because they were real. Because more than that, she meant them. She meant them with her entire soul.

Her entire soul. She rolled her eyes, wrinkling her nose at the thought, but even then she knew, that the clichéd sentence was secretly true.

She raised her eyes to look across the room. There. In the recess of the room in a corner he sat, reading a tattered copy of some old book. Her eyes squinted. Wuthering Heights.

She looked away sadly, her world blurring slightly.

She could never tell him, she knew this too.

“I love you,” this time whispered one last time.

A/N: I don't know how this came up, debating with my friend about love and great love and how we don't think they exist and then put me in a room to study for upcoming exams (by upcoming i mean tomorrow) and you get this. It wouldn't let me study. Once again please do let me know what you think