"Just lovely," he muttered sardonically under his breath as we walked out of the store. I rolled my eyes, annoyed at his immaturity.
"God," I say poking him. "Grow a backbone; he was two for God sakes!" I growl annoyed I had to be explaining this to him even if we weren't dating, which made the whole situation a lot more frustrating.
Damon had been my best friend forever, and although there was always a cloud of possessiveness integrated in some of his actions, which, in this case involved a two year old kissing me on the cheek and stomping his foot, in regards to goodbyes, it had greatly increased over the past few weeks.
"Well shit," he said running his hand through his brown tousled hair. "I can't say that that was the best greeting of my life."
"His two." I grumbled. "I doubt he could've hurt you."
"That's not the point here is it?" Damon pouted, his cute lips pursed together as he stared at me.
I look away, a blush creeping on my cheeks and I cursed at myself for falling in love with my best friend.
Not that it was really anything wrong, Damon had made it clear he liked me weeks ago, after he went through "crisis after crisis" of weighing options and thought "heck with it!"
The problem wasn't that much, I was always prideful in my actions, never wanting to admit the fact that although Damon had developed a "mind blowing" crush on me at the mature age of 17, I had fell in love with him at the innocent age of 5, and a strings of heartbreaks had followed me as Damon found himself infatuated with girlfriend after girlfriend.
"The past is the past." My friend Hayley had told me when I had come to her for comfort.
But can the past always be the past? If the past had shaped us and formed us into who we are today, can we really say that the past should not be acknowledged? Isn't that equivalent to not acknowledging ourselves?
More than anything, the problem was I was like the rest of Damon's love affairs, temporary, a fling, a challenge. And that was all it took for me to not fling myself to him and kiss those madly red lips the moment he professed his like for me.
"What are you thinking about?" I heard him whisper in my ear seductively. I jumped, squeaking in the most graceful manner, flailing backwards and scraping my hands on the concrete. Damon's aqua green eyes filled with worry and amusement – mostly worry - as his strong – toned - arms reached out to me, pulling me upright with one pull as he examined my battle wound with utmost care. "You made it seem like I was trying to kill you or something." He muttered unhappily.
"Well you might as well, since you scared the living daylights out of me." I said, smiling, my heart thumping wildly for a completely different reason it was a few seconds ago.
"Wussy." He said chuckling quietly, as he released my arm to open the door to his house. As we stepped in he turned on his heel, possibly to find me a band-aid or two and some disinfectant.
"Loser!" I yell back.
"Cougar!" He retorted possibly because of the earlier incident. I rolled my eyes, it is on.
"Doo-" Silence. "What?!" I watched amused as he walked back into the room hands holding the medical kit. "I'm not a creep." He said innocently pouting at me and I smirked.
"Right." I said.
"I'm not!" he protested as his hands flung in the air and then came back down to tend my wound that wasn't even bleeding that much.
"Okay." I said, and although it sounded like I was agreeing, he knew better and he threw me a narrowed look, which promptly followed by a crooked smile.
"You're such a loser." And before I retorted, he said "But I still love you."
My heart stopped there, as he silently worked on my arm allowing my mind to comprehend. A few weeks back, his confession to me was a mere like. Which was what it always was with Damon's relationships. "Like" he said to me once. "That's all I say, never more, I don't lead them on. So I'm not one of those jerks that uses lies to get what he wants." He shrugged. "If I like them I like them, I don't tell them otherwise. Even if it ends things."
And at that time I felt my heart lurch for him more, falling deeper in the pits of love then I can ever possibly imagine and sure, Damon had told me he loved me before, quick, simple sentences that although did mean something, didn't mean that. Platonic love.
But now it was different, Damon liked me more than a friend, and not as siblings, he liked me – no – he loved me. And I believed every word of it.
I opened my mouth to talk, but nothing came out. I closed it again, opting myself to be brave.
"Damon…" I breathed and bravery ran away. Damon who was now done with my injuries looked up at me and smiled and he squeezed my hand, reassuring me.
"What?" he said, his green eyes bursting with amusement and I wanted to punch him in the face. As if registering my anger, his eyes softened and he squeezed my hand again. "Right," he said "Sorry."
"Sorry for what?" I blurted out in instinct.
Damon's handsome faced furrowed together in a weird scrunch that always made me laugh, "For being a jerk?" He said questioningly.
"Why are you being a jerk?" I said staring at him, willing him to answer.
He smiled, understanding. "Because, I'm throwing all these things at you, when I know what it does to you, it makes you confused and it –"
"What?" I said shocked, he knows what it does to me?
"- makes me want to kiss you so….Huh?"
I raised my eyebrows and I burst into laughter, his following shortly. When the laughter began to cease, I looked into his emerald blue eyes and smiled. "You mean it?" I said.
"You mean kissing you?" he said quickly, his face flushing. "If you want me to prove it I can –"
"Loving me?" I said smiling at his quick fumble with words. He stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes not leaving mine.
"Every word." He said seriously, and that was all I needed, I reached down and kissed his lips softly, laughing quietly at how right it felt, before reaching in to kiss him again.
"Just lovely," I heard him murmur against my lips, and I couldn't agree more.
Quick drabble, hope you enjoyed it!
Please review, thanks. Sorry for any grammatical errors.