Oh.

Summary: He could only say one word: "Oh."

Genre: Romance/General

Rating: K Plus for mild sensuality

A/N: New style that I'm trying out. Fail. XD

--

They are lying in the bed in silence, and he turns to look at the girl beside him. She truly is a beautiful girl, he thinks. She has nicely rounded breasts, plenty of curves, and none too skinny. Her dark ringlets of hair fall prettily to her face to her full red lips and flushed cheeks, and her blue eyes twinkle when she smiles. He watches her in admiration as she starts to drift off to sleep, and he starts thinking how lucky he is to have her. She is nice and kind and perfect in his eyes, and he truly could not see anything wrong with her. He really was in love.

He reaches over to touch her bare shoulders.

"I love you."

The girl freezes, her eyes popping open as he whispers these words in her ears. She stares blankly at the ceiling, not knowing how to reply.

"Oh."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

OH.

As they lay there in bed, he repeats that word. The word she had said after he had told her he loved her. That word. The one word that was going to haunt him forever.

--

The next morning, when he enters the school, he sees her standing at her locker, spinning her combination in the door. When their eyes met, he smiles vaguely at her, remembering their last conversation.

She walks over to him. "Hi."

He opens his mouth, but could not speak.

She looks at him oddly as he tries again.

But his lips form a perfect "O", instead of the greeting he wants.

And what came out was:

"Oh"

--

He cannot concentrate in math class. He could talk to his teachers and other students, but whenever she talked to him, all that could come out was a single word.

"Oh."

She chats to him about school.

"Oh."

She chats to him about lacrosse.

"Oh."

She chats to him about her friends.

"Oh."

And on and on and on.

He is relieved when the teacher comes into the classroom and starts to teach the class. She looks at him oddly as he clearly attempts to ignore her throughout the period. What was wrong?

--

They are sitting at lunch, talking to their friends, and he is doing his best to avoid conversation with her. All he could think of when he saw her was that when he told her that he loved her, she said, "Oh"; when he had told her he loved her, the way that she said, "Oh"; and all she ever said was, "Oh."

She calls his name.

He ignores her.

She calls his name again.

He continues to talk to the boy beside her.

She yells his name in a scolding tone.

He looks at her.

She asks what was wrong.

He just shakes his head.

All he could think about was, "Oh."

She says he's been acting weird.

He shrugs.

She gets frustrated and asks why he wouldn't speak.

He shrugs again.

She says that she was going to have dinner with him on Friday night, whether he liked it or not.

He wants to shake his head, but he doesn't want to break them up. He opens his mouth to protest, but his lips could only form a perfect circle.

"Oh."

She looks at him oddly once again, but returns to her sandwich.

Their friends watch them in confusion.

--

Throughout the week, he continues to not speak to her.

She is very confused.

She asks several times more why he was ignoring her.

He wants to explain that he's not ignoring her.

But all that can ever come out is:

"Oh."

Their friends ask him what is wrong.

But he can not bring himself to explain himself. His mouth can not move when he speaks of her, but only say a single word.

"Oh."

Nobody says that they could see what the problem was. But they all know. They are drifting apart, because he is not talking to her, and she cannot express her affection.

He wants to fix the problem.

"Oh."

--

Friday night comes fast.

He is dressed in a nice sweater and khakis, and they drive to a fancy restaurant downtown in his car.

She looks beautiful in her plain light pink, he thinks, as he turns to look at her from the driver's seat.

He opens up his mouth to tell her.

But his lips can only form one word.

"Oh."

She looks at him oddly, but then continues to stare straight ahead to the road, deep in thought. He shakes his head, annoyed at himself. He must have looked like an idiot.

They arrive at the restaurant, and are escorted to a booth. They sit in across from each other, as she thanks their waiter, who leaves. They take their menus and scan the pages, even thought neither one of them are very hungry nor could care much for eating.

Finally, she places her menu back down to the table, full of thought, and looks at him seriously.

"We need to talk."

He is caught off-guard, and looks at her in question. She sighs.

"You've barely talked to me at all for the past week."

He nods and shrugs, with lack of words. He can't say anything to her at all, anyways. Literally.

"What's going on?"

He wants to tell her he loves her. So bad. But when he opens his mouth, he can't say anything except for one, single, echoed word.

"Oh."

She looks at him in confusion and in curiosity, waiting for him to go on. He wants to go on. He wants to tell her how much he loves her over and over and over again. He wants to tell her that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her and he couldn't possibly love her any less than anyone else, and he couldn't love her more than he could love anyone else.

He wants to say all this to her. So bad. But he can't. So he decides to do the next best thing to show all of his affection and love for her. Because he couldn't speak.

He reaches over the table, and gives her the most passionate kiss he has ever given her—or anyone else.

She is stunned at first, but kisses him back eagerly. They share a moment of love with each other for about five minutes, not noticing the other customers giving them looks of disgust. They kiss with more passion and affection than anyone could have ever imagined, as if they were the only people in the world.

Finally they break apart, gasping.

And she smiles. Because now she knows.

--

They are in bed again, panting and sweating and drowning in ecstasy. It had been a while, he thought, but it was nice. And he had still loved it. And now that their situation had mended, maybe their relationship would go back to the way he had wanted before.

As he lay there in thought, he feels something brush against his arms. He turns and sees her smiling at him, leaning on his shoulder.

"I love you," she says, nuzzling in his chest.

He is surprised. He opens his mouth to reply, to say that he loves her too. But only one word could ever come out through his lips.

"Oh."