With an enormous sigh of relief, I transfered all of my books from my locker to my already heavy backpack. I slammed the door of the locker with a satisfyingly loud 'slam', disregarding the bits of paper, the chocolate bar wrappers and the sweatshirt left at the very bottom. Smiling inwardly (inwardly is the key word here, if I had smiled, someone would have been sure to see me, and would have spread the word around the whole school by Monday), I danced down the hallway and out of the school. That is, I would have danced had I not been weighed down by my ridiculously heavy backpack. Trudged would probably be a more appropriate word.

I fished my iPod out of my jean pocket, and shoved the earphones into my ears. I scrolled indecisively through my music and finally put it on shuffle.

Another boring week of school down, only twenty gazillion more to go...

My step quickened when I remembered that at least it was the week-end now, which meant he would be home from that stupid private boarding school his parents were making him go to this year. I never would have been able to survive this school year, had it not been for the fact that he ditched his parents for me every single week-end.

I volunteered at the school library, which meant I stayed an extra couple of hours on Wednesdays and Fridays sorting and cleaning books (community service + my love of books = my being happy with this arrangement). He was part of a math team, which met on Mondays and Thursdays, so even though his school was an hour away, he got to my house before I did, every single Friday.

I could picture him now, siting on the porch swing, reading a book, or drawing in his sketch pad, waiting for me to come home. He was probably eating an apple, too. By the time I had come home last week, he had eaten four of those bloody fruit. You would think after a while he would sprout apples through his ears, and grow roots out of his feet, but no, he was still perfectly sane...

Ahem.

Or should I say, as insane as when I had first met him? Yeah, that's closer to the sad truth.

The wind picked up a bit, and I pulled my jacket tight around me, and hurried on. My house was about a 10 minute walk from my high school, which meant that I walked there and back every single day of the week. Even when it rained, or hailed, or snowed. Well, if it snows, my mom will drive me, but that only happens a few days a year. One day, I swear I will freeze to death on the way home, or get lost in the dark, and then, won't my parents feel sorry when I never come home!

My ears filled with the sound of a Muse song, Fury, and I smiled. He had given me that CD at Christmas, knowing how much I loved Muse. I remembered how Mom told me he had asked her to wrap it for him, since he hated doing it. He had also given me a little silver seashell on a chain. I fingered the warm pendant, which I had worn almost every single day since Christmas. Every time he saw me wearing it (which was every time he saw me) he smiled.

The sun was setting, and the wind was getting even colder. My fingers were freezing, and I could feel my nose turning red. I should have left early, instead of staying to finish organizing that stupid shelf. If I died out here, it was all my fault. Well, kind of my parent's fault, too, just because.

I recognized the silhouettes of the two enormous, twisted oak trees that grew on my street. I was nearing my destination, I was going to make it alive!

There, I was finally on my block, I could see my house, and I could even make out the shape of the swinging porch swing. (That sounded kind of weird, the swinging porch swing...) I yanked the earphones out of my ears and shoved my iPod back into my pocket. With my music off, I could hear the regular 'creak creak' of our porch swing. Someone forgot to oil it...

As I opened the gate and walked up the path, the gravel crunching under my feet, I heard the creak of the swing stop, and a shape appeared in front of me.

"That you, Pichu?" he called.

"Yup." I said softly, smiling at the nickname he still used.

I walked a few more steps towards him, and saw him throw something into the bushes as I closed the distance between us. "Hey, you," I whispered.

He put his arms around me and pulled me into a warm hug. Aaaaaah, so warm...

"I missed you." He murmured into my hair. "Did you miss me?"

"Course I did, silly!" I cuddled closer, resting me head on his shoulder. "So, how many apples this week?"

He nodded towards the bushes, "That was number three."

He grinned, and put his warm hand on my cheek, only to withdraw it all to quickly.

"Wow, you're really cold." he said, grabbing my hand and pulling my up the wooden porch steps. "Come inside and I'll make you some hot chocolate. With marshmallows and whipped cream." He grabbed his sketch pad and pencil from the swing. "You know you can't resist the thought of a warm, delicious drink made by me..."

Smiling, I allowed him to pull me up the stairs and into the warm house. He flicked the lights in the living room on before disappearing into the kitchen. I dumped my backpack onto the couch (Ah, the freedom!) and joined him.

I turned to the sink and opened the tap, waiting for some hot water. "Actually, I'll pass on the whipped cream today." I announced.

"Ok, your majesty." he grumbled.

"It's Your Majesty, with capitals, you faithless citizen! Obey, or you will be decapitated!" I said in my best royal voice, which immediately set him laughing. I tried to glare at him, but he was so adorable I gave up, and ruffled his hair with my wet hands instead.

"Hey! You stop that, dammit, you're messing up my perfect hair." He pretended to be very concerned, and made a show of trying to un-ruffle it.

"You're only making it worse, let me do it." I stood on tiptoe and flattened his now damp hair. "Guys...." I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear, "they don't know anything about anything."

It was his turn to glare now, but, I must say, he's a lot better at it than I am. I pouted, and he turned back to the counter to finish my drink.

"One hot chocolate with marshmallows and no whipped cream, Your Majesty," he said, handing me the cup and bowing low.

I sipped the hot chocolate and felt the warmth spread through me, leaving a tingling sensation all down my throat.

After watching me sip half of my drink, he took the cup away and once again put his hand on my cheek. A tingling sensation which had nothing to do with the hot chocolate this time spread through me. His eyes lingered on the necklace, and he smiled.

"I like your necklace, who gave it to you?" he asked, his eyes laughing.

"My best citizen." I answered.

He leaned down and kissed me softly on the lips.

"Feeling better now, Pichu?" he whispered.

"All better, thanks." I replied.

He pulled me into a hug, and I closed my eyes. I listened to his steady breathing, and as we stood there, I felt myself relax. In my half conscious state, I heard his voice, but didn't understand what he said.

I raised my head, "Sorry, what did you say?"

This time, I did understand what he said, "Girls... They can't ever use their little brains when guys talk to them. In through one ear, and out the other." He demonstrated by miming something going in my ear and coming out of the other. "So as I was saying, when you weren't listening to me, my Dad wants me to ask you to come to this BBQ that my parents are having this weekend. We don't have to go if you don't want to, of course. Instead we could..."

I stopped listening again, and just watched him ramble on. He was so cute when he started talking like this.

"Hey." He didn't hear me, so I slapped his arm to get his attention. It worked instantly. I should remember that for next time.

"Hey, shut up and kiss me."

He smirked, and whispered in my ear, "Gladly, Pichu," before complying to my request.

A/N: I hope you guys like it! :)