Would You?
-twirling flags
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Disclaimer: The basic storyline is based on a chain mail I recieved several times over the last few years.

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They sat alone in the empty classroom, staring outside the windows at the rain. Each drop, driven against the windows from the wind that had been raging all day, seemed like an eternity, until at last she stood up and leaned against the radiator, facing him.

“Dom.”

He glanced her way, face open and innocent, as it always was. She wondered faintly if his eyes had always been such a dark green color, and then again if he had ever looked so alive.

“Yes?”

She sighed, opened her mouth, then shut it again. The air from the radiator was pulling small strands of hair from her ponytail and drifting it about behind her, and she tucked them behind her ear impatiently.

“I have a question.”

He scanned her face earnestly, and she blinked slowly, like she’d see them do in the movies. She wished it wasn’t raining, because that always meant that there was bound to be heartbreak… at least that was what all the romance novels said.

“Hit me.”

She fought back the urge to slug him one in the arm.

“Do you like me?”

Silence— a long, uncomfortable silence during which she urged herself not to feel like she’d made a mistake. They stayed this way for several long minutes. Too late, she thought… this has been a mistake.

“Well, no.”

He stared up at her, purely honest. The answer was blunt, which she was grateful for. But she ignored her heart, hammering sadly in between her ribs, and pushed on.

“You don’t think I’m pretty?”

He didn’t stop to think.

“Not really.”

She closed her eyes, determined.

“Can’t you at least say… can’t you at least tell me that you’d miss me if I… if I walked out of this room right now?”

“I wouldn’t miss you.”

She stood up straight, trying to pretend that there weren’t tears pricking the sides of her eyes and making them sting. Be strong, be strong! She told herself firmly, ashamed that she was turning into the woman in the romance novels, who breaks down in moments like this.

Straightening her shoulders, she tried to grin down at him— it turned out too much like a grimace for her liking. “Let’s test that theory, shall we?”

“No,” he said, more firmly than she had ever heard from him before. He stood up, almost a whole head taller than she, and gripped her shoulders.

“No. Let’s not.”

Leaning toward her, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her head into his shoulder, pressing his cheek against the top of her head.

“Let’s not...”

She squeezed her eyes shut, telling herself not to succumb to…

“Why not?”

Internally she applauded herself for sounding so un-curious and detached.

He waited an eternity before he spoke. “Because you don’t know the whole of it.”

“The whole of what?”

He pulled away from her and began to pace around the room. She watched him move, then crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the tiles. “The whole of what, Dom?”

He stopped. She could hear the rain pounding on the roof of the school above them. And then he was in front of her again, arms around her again— except that this time she was being cradled against his chest and she could hear his heart pounding and she knew it couldn’t be from the quick strides toward her and she knew her own heart was pounding and she was rambling! even in her head and even she knew it…

At last he spoke up— softly but clear as a bell:

“I don’t think you’re pretty, because I know that you’re beautiful.”

She couldn’t think couldn’t breathe couldn’t speak…

“I don’t like you. I love you.”

thinkbreathespeakthinkbreathespeakbreathe…

“And I wouldn’t miss you if you walked out. I’d die.”

ThinkbreathespeakdosomethingGina! Thinkbreathespeak…

“Oh.”

And then—

And then he was kissing her and she was kissing him and she didn’t know who had initiated it, but it felt damn good and it really didn’t matter who started it…

He broke away, looking down at her warmly, with sleepy eyes. There was a long pause before she spoke.

“What are you supposed to say to someone who’s just professed their love to you?”

She watched his grin spread slowly across his face.

“You’re supposed to say, ‘Oh Dom I love you too let’s get married and have seven children and live in a little blue house with a white picket fence and a dog!’, but I’ll settle for, ‘Of course I’ll go out with you.’”

Remind me again why I don’t love him, she thought, and leaned her head up for another kiss.

Did I not say it was Corny?
...maybe I didn't. Ohwell...
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