The infamous sound of Spongebob Squarepants' laughter rang from the speakers of my TV and echoed into the room. I glanced up from brushing a coat of jet black nail polish on my cuticle at the TV set. Spongebob and Patrick were busy trying to teach a handicapped Squidward how to jellyfish. I was broken away by this scene by the sound of a male voice next to me.

"Why do you watch this crap?" He asked, glaring at the TV. I gasped aloud, trying to sound offended.

"This show is not crap." I retorted. "It's...educational."

"It's a little kid's cartoon." He said flatly.

"It's awesome." I smiled down at him, catching his light brown eyes surveying me. "I notice you haven't stopped watching it since I put it on," I pointed out smugly. He looked shaken at this, unable to come up with a quick enough lie to sound convincing. Instead he fumbled over his reply.

"It's hypnotized me with its demon magic." He muttered, tearing his eyes away to focus on the wall. I laughed.

"Suuuure," I teased him, a smile painting across my face. He looked back to momentarily glare at me. I returned his eye contact with a sweet smile. To accentuate the look, I batted my eyelashes. He used his arms to push himself up from lying on the bed. Taking another few seconds to glare at me, he suddenly leaned close and briefly kissed me. This action (as it always seemed to) left my heart fluttering in my chest. Distracting myself from being privy to his affection, I once again busied myself with painting my nails. I could still feel his eyes watching me as I did everything in my power to avoid them. He eventually gave up trying to dominate my attention and fell back onto the bed with a sigh.

I pulled my attention away from my hands long enough to smile warmly. "I win." He rolled his eyes and once more found something interesting on the white painted walls to look at.

Silence slipped among us, broken only by the turbulent adventures of an under sea sponge and starfish. The silence wasn't uncomfortable; there was always comfort when we were together. The air always seemed to express welcome and open affection.

It was a miracle we weren't dating.

The two of us (Brian and I) had been friends for a few years. Over the last seven months, we had expanded our relationship to a more physical level-- and it remained simply that. We had always been good friends and we trusted each other explicitly. Although we were attracted to each other, we had never experienced deep affectionate feelings for one another.

"You know," I broke the silence as a commercial came on for that increasingly annoying KIDZBOP CD. Glancing down at Brian, I caught him watching me with full attention. "I wanted to tell you something earlier, but kept forgetting."

"What's up?"

"You know how I was hanging out with Hannah and Kyle the other day?"

"Yeah,"

"Well Hannah told me something interesting about Kyle. She told me he had a crush on me." Brian stared in silence. I laughed, not noticing anything amiss in his behavior as I continued. "I told Hannah to get a life but then I started to notice something. The longer we hung out, the clingier Kyle got. He'd follow me around everywhere, almost like a puppy." I smiled, remembering how he kept sticking to my side; even when Hannah tried to get him to follow her. As I sat reminiscing I didn't notice Brian's demeanor change. He seemed preoccupied; fighting to control the emotions he knew he was showing. I had expected Brian to laugh along with me; agree that it was funny that Kyle would entertain such feelings. When I got no response, I glanced down at him in curiosity. It was then I noticed his attitude.

I stopped laughing, the smile disappearing from my lips. In its place, confusion seeped in. "What's up?" I asked, my voice sounding more cautious than I'd intended. He seemed to jerk himself out of a trance and looked at me. Sitting up, he rested his back against the wall and stared ahead. He refused to look at me, and that made me worry. Swallowing a growing lump in my throat, I moved forward. "You okay?" I asked. That time my voice was very quiet; barely above a whisper.

Brian remained consumed by silence for several more minutes. The confusion, alarm and surprise at his reaction sparked and hung in the air as dead, uncomfortable silence. Every so often I unconsciously shifted my weight from side to side. When Brian finally spoke he uttered something I had never expected to hear. Speaking quietly, almost in a mutter, Brian said: "Kyle can't have you."

It took a few seconds for what he had said to sink in. Kyle...couldn't have me? A smile broke out across my face. The fact that I would have even wanted Kyle to "have me" was so ridiculous I had to grin. The air cleared and the silence fell away as laughter erupted from me. I gently slapped his knee in a joshing manner before asking, "Any why would I want Kyle to have me?" I wasn't expecting a response-- I was merely conveying the insanity of his statement. Brian looked at me, locking his serious eyes with mine. There was something extremely sincere about those eyes that once again silenced my laughter.

"He can't have you," he said levelly. "Because you're mine."

I felt as if my heart had stopped beating (had he just said...?). My lungs forgot how to engulf air (I think he did...). The room seemed to shift for a moment before blurring (was he serious?). And then suddenly everything cleared. It was as if I had been put under hypnosis and suddenly awoken. I stared at him dumbly, speechless, for another moment.

And then my whole body seemed to flush. The room felt like its temperature had shot up thirty degrees. A bead of sweat trickled down my neckline. My heart was pounding so loud and fast against my ribcage that I swore I could be a stand-in drummer for Red Jumpsuit. My hand instinctively flew to my mouth; both to cover my gaping expression and to shield him from seeing my burning cheeks. As my eyes locked on his, he smiled softly. That gentle, small smile that only seemed to tug at the corner of his lips made everything worse. The grin spread to his eyes which were no longer serious, but were instead soft mahogany pools of affection. He reached out his hand and his gentle fingers brushed against my arm, holding my wrist. Pulling his hand away from my face, my smile broadened.

My vision once again became blurry; only this time it wasn't because of a momentary lack of motor skills. I realized my eyes had filled with tears.

I was crying.

Brian chuckled softly (a sound that tickled my ears) and moved closer to me. "Hey," he said quietly using the thumb of his free hand (since his other still held my wrist) to brush away my tears. What he couldn't brush away, he leaned forward to kiss. A mild shiver ran up and down my spine and despite myself I couldn't stop crying. My heart was beginning to swell in my chest and, just as quickly as everything else had hit me, I understood.

Keeping my eyes locked on his, the tears continued to flow. He seemed to read the truth without me having to say anything. For a brief moment he tore his eyes and glanced down at his knees; but in an instant, our eyes met again.

I loved him; and he loved me.

I struggled to regain control over my emotions and I eventually succeeded in stopping the tear production. Laughing, slightly embarrassed, I wiped my tears away on the corner of my red long sleeved American Eagle shirt. Once my vision became clear, I smiled sheepishly. It took several attempts to regain eye contact. We had, after all, made a monumental discovery. It seemed ridiculous to believe it, but it did feel as if we were experiencing each other for the first time. Never had such strong emotions entered into our relationship and it was overwhelming to deal with.

When we finally caught each other's eyes again, I was surprised to see that he was on the verge of tears. Granted, he stayed in control and managed to wipe them away before the emotion dominated. I smiled happily at him, my heart overflowing with the love it had so long forbidden itself to express. We never had to vocalize our feelings; we knew how much we meant to each other. Yet when he wrapped his arms around me and held me close to him, that very first "I love you, Carly," was enough to make me cry again.

Fin.