summary. I didn't know he'd take so long to respond to my three, meaningful words. Maybe it's just a simply hard response. I mean, telling someone you love him is very, very difficult. But responding? That must be so much more troublesome.
disclaimer. I own nothing you notice. I do own things you don't.
notes. ew, it's so short! but, anyway, please enjoy! :) I tried, at least, you know?

A Simply Hard Response



I love you. Such three simple words representing so much meaning.

But then, why do you have to take such a long time formulating a response? Had I done something wrong by telling you how I really felt, instead of hiding it away, locked up in the chest of my heart? My ever so hurting heart, especially because you never seem to notice me.

Now, you do notice me, according to my eyes, wet with tears that I would never let fall, especially not in front of you. The sudden…abruptness of my confession tears your eyes away from the book you are poring over, like the studious student you are. You place your finger on the page you left off on. These simple, little things I notice about you make me feel as if I'm closer to you than ever.

Despite myself, I smile sadly at the coincidental title: Medicine for the Broken Heart.

"Er… what did you say?" you suddenly ask, my eyes shifting over to you from the book's spine.

"I…" Pausing, I glance at your confused, yet curious gray-green eyes, eyes so unique and mysterious I find myself drowning in them for a moment before I get a hold of myself, and glance away. Can I really say those three little words again?

"I-I love you."

You say nothing for a second, tilt your head to the side, and appraise me with the eyes that make my knees weak. So darn weak, and yet I don't mind. Not anymore, at least.


With a rueful smile, I want to scream 'OH'!? That's all you want to say?!

But I don't, instead waiting patiently for another answer. Because, really, what is another few minutes compared to the many years I've been pining after you?

"A-are you sure?" you ask. Such a simple question, just like the simplicity of the three little words I've just told you, but I can sense the uncertainty under-toning your voice.

"Yes, I'm very sure. I'm positive, in fact."

I give you a smile I think shows more than I let on, but, as I chance another glance at you, I know the façade isn't working. Apparently, you have been noticing me.

I just hadn't been looking hard enough.

"Oh, really?" As abruptly as I'd announced that I love you, your tone turns playful.

"Yes, actually. I love a lot of people, but I think that you're in the Top Three."

"Only the Top Three? What about the Top One?"

"Well, you're actually vying for the spot with Aspen, my dog."

"Your dog? Really?"

I nod, stifling a giggle. "Yep. So far she's winning."


I sigh glumly when the playful mood turns serious again, your hands reaching out for me as if you want to take me into your arms. Egging you on, secretly wanting you to do just that—to hold me—I take a step closer to you.

Smirking slightly, you raise your eyebrows. You are just way too smart for your own good. Hurriedly, I try to steer the conversation somewhere else.

"Yes, really. Except you're about a smidge closer to being first." I raise my index finger and thumb, pressing them far enough to fit a Tic-Tac between them. Without meaning to, I've just changed the mood again.

You laugh, that deliciously adorable, deep laugh that makes my heart race instantaneously.

"Well, that's wonderful: being in competition for first place with a dog."

"Isn't it?"

You grin, and suddenly I don't know what else to say. I'm struck speechless. "So, what do you think?" I ask you, finally fed up with waiting—just because I waited four years for you doesn't mean I don't need you to say something—anything—right now.

"I-I don't know what to think," you say truthfully. When my heart plummets to somewhere deeper than my stomach, you continue on, "How long?"

"How long what?" I ask you quietly.

"How long have you loved me?"

"Four years," I mumble.

"Four years?" you ask, amazed at my awesome ability to stay with crushing on one guy for that amount of time. Strangely, I feel proud of myself.

"Yep, four years and counting."

"And counting? You still love me?" It sounds as if you are surprised by the fact that I still do; I wonder why. Do you not want me to love you enough to keep on loving you when you don't reciprocate my feelings in a few seconds? I'm not like that—curious, I wonder why you didn't know.

"Mhhm," I reply softly, a blush painting itself onto my face. "Of course. Why?"

"I'm just caught off-guard, that's all."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

You smile softly at me, and I feel a thrill rush through my body—nothing new.

"It's fine," you tell me, and then I hear the words I've been waiting for—after four years (and counting) of waiting for you, you finally reciprocate my feelings. "Because I love you too."

"Oh. Oh—that's good." Mentally, I smack myself in the head. Oh?! Oh!? What THE HECK? Such eloquence.

You smile again, that little half-smile that reduces me to a rambling pile of goo whenever you chose to bestow it upon me.

And then you lean forward, eyes closing in anticipation, my eyes following suit, but then an obnoxious BEEP BEEP BEEP awakens me and I sit up in bed, realizing that it had all been a dream.

So much for that. Still, four years and counting, right?

notes. A review would be nice, but, really, I just enjoyed writing this oneshot—that ending was surprising, wasn't it? point out the mistakes you can find (especially with the tense! :D)

-toffeecakesxox. :)