In the sudden event of a confrontation
Usually, I hate confrontation. I loathe it with every fibre of my being. It's one thing to sit behind a computer or mobile and say horrible things that somehow express what you're feeling towards that particular person (not that I ever do that, of course), but face-to-face? God, no.
Stacey often tells me I'm a pussy. I run away from my problems like a (and I quote) 'first-water-cowardly-little-fuck'.
I'm not sure what it was, but something about the conversation I had just had with the current 'particular person' who appeared to be pissed off with me, was off. It just felt wrong. Do you ever get that? That horrible feeling that if you don't say or do something right this second, nothing will ever be the same again?
I was feeling it from the tip of my freezing nose, all the way down to my numb feet. Before I could fully comprehend what I was actually doing, I called out.
I would have thought that considering the fact I never attempt to drag out an argument longer than necessary, the boy walking pretty damn fast away from me would do the decency of stopping.
He didn't. He kept on walking, the ass.
"Will, wait a second!" I called out again.
His feet kept on moving. The familiar mop of black, shaggy hair was quickly getting farther and farther away from me.
"Oh no you don't." I muttered to myself, before I worked myself up to a sprint and practically leapt onto his back.
"What the fu-"
"I told you to wait, asshole!"
Will unceremoniously dropped me from his back and spun around to fix me with a fierce glare. He was well known for his evils – they were equally legendary and piss-in-pants-inducing. I swallowed hard, willing myself to carry this crazy shit through.
"Um..." Good start Bryony. Real classy.
I narrowed my eyes. "No need to sound so impatient. I'm just gathering my thoughts."
Will rolled his eyes rudely, before burying his hands in the pockets of his (decidedly low-slung) jeans, and waiting for me to continue.
There's another thing I can't stand – looking a person in the eyes. It's weird. It's disconcerting. I usually opt for staring at their forehead determinedly, giving the impression that I'm actually peering into their orbs of vision - but this never works on Will. His eyes are... nice. Disgustingly brown and soft and pretty. Even if I look at his forehead, his eyes are like magnets, dragging my gaze to them.
Which is why I had to stare at the ground, comparing my own blue converses with the red and green lace, to his simple black-and-white scruffy ones.
"Gathered?" He demanded, his voice cold. It annoyed me that he was using his angry voice – obviously he was angry, but he knew how The Voice confused me.
"A-almost." Oh fuck. I was stuttering.
It was then that I realised I hadn't the foggiest what I had been planning on saying. I had jumped him as a spur-of-the-moment kinda thing. Now I was staring at the ground like a downright loony, and any minute now he'd be demanding why I wasn't-
"Bryony, do you actually have anything to say?"
Shit. He called me Bryony. Will Deans addressing Bryony Earhart by her full name is the equivalent of a very ugly end-of-world scenario. I felt the bottom of my gut slip away.
"Yes." I scoffed, trying not to panic. "Obviously. Why would I call your name and practically molest you if I had nothing to say." I laughed weakly, but good old Will looked less than amused.
"Now you're buying yourself time." He said bluntly. I swallowed again. Scary. Really Super Duper Scary. "And you're wasting my time in the process."
I mustered up a glare from somewhere and met his eyes. I was mildly disappointed that they weren't all soft and gooey, like they usually were. They were hard and unrelenting. "I'm trying to buy myself time because you're being a dick and scaring the crap out of me."
He raised an eyebrow. "Am I."
"Yes." I sighed. Here goes nothing. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm really... I'm sorry."
It was a lame apology if I had ever heard one, but hey. I was new at this.
"Sorry about what?" Will held my gaze, his hands still in his pockets.
I lifted a corner of my lips. "Not making this easy, are you?"
I sighed again. "I'm sorry for being a bitch."
Still no reply. I ploughed on.
"I'm sorry for ruining your night."
"I'm sorry for slapping your ex-girlfriend."
God, he was quiet today.
"I'm sorry for shouting at you when you helped her up. Even though I didn't slap her that hard."
I was on a roll.
"I'm sorry for running out while saying every swear word I've ever-"
"Why did you slap her?"
"Huh?" He had caught me mid-sentence. He had surprised me by speaking. I was on a roll because it was like speaking to a brick wall – I can handle conversing with inanimate objects, but not... not Will.
"Why did you slap her?" He repeated quieter, slower. His eyes were blazing, even though he was stature was relaxed.
I shrugged. "She was being annoying."
"Adam annoys you. Jane annoys you. Mister Higgins annoys you. You don't slap any of them."
What's he getting at... "I'd probably be arrested for slapping Mister Higgins."
Will pursed his lips. "What did she say to you?"
I fiddled nervously with the hem of my dress. "Nothing."
"Was it something about me?"
"Then what was it?"
"You slapped her for nothing?"
Suddenly, he was gone. He was walking away again – no, marching away, his hands clenched into fists. I hardly registered the helpless groan that escaped my lips before I set out after him again.
"Will! For God's- William. Listen to me!"
Still walking... fucking prick...
"Will, can you please-"
"How many times?" I wasn't far from him now. When he stopped walking abruptly it took every reflex I had to spring into action to stop me from crashing into him.
"What are you-"
"How many times, Bryony?" His beautiful brown eyes were so sharp it was painful. I couldn't look at him.
I contemplated acting dumb as I stared at the ground. It was incredibly unlikely that I would get away with it... but surely it would be better than saying it? Than putting it out into the open, for the world to hear?
I couldn't act dumb, not any more. Not after everything. Not when he was glaring at me so hard I felt I could break down any second.
Not many people can make me feel this way. Not even Stacey, my best friend of six years can make me want to cry. Only him. Only Will.
"Seven." I whispered. I thought – hoped – maybe he hadn't heard me over the noise of the wind.
"Seven." So he had heard. Wonderful. "That's right. I have kissed you, Bryony Earhart, a total of seven fucking times. And how many times have you ran away from me?"
I could feel my throat closing up, but I struggled to get the word out. "Seven."
"Seven." He repeated. I stared at his white knuckles, his jeans that looked like they could drop at any moment, his button-down shirt which was flapping in the wind. "How many times have we talked about it?"
There was a pause. "Never." I said at last.
Silence greeted me.
"Will, I just-"
"I don't care." His voice was icy. I felt my neck snap up.
"But you don't-"
"I don't care."
What? Why was he doing this? I was horrified to feel the hot tears bubbling up my throat. Fuck my life. I'm about to cry in front of the most beautiful boy on the universe-
"How does it feel?" Will demanded, breaking through my thoughts. I looked up again, confused. "How does it feel knowing someone who you're trying to get through to does not give a shit?"
I stared at him.
"I've kissed you seven times!" His laugh sounded decidedly bemused. I watched as he ran his fingers through his messy black hair in frustration. "And you – you never tell me not to! You kiss me back... then you fucking run. What the fuck am I supposed to think?"
Jesus almighty save me now from humiliation...
"I've tried Bryony! I've fucking tried, but you don't care."
...humiliation which I am sure to be subjecting myself to in a few moments...
"It's like talking to stone. You're driving me fucking crazy!"
Before he could continue his rant about my heartlessness, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him to me.
"What are you-"
Pulling together every scrap of courage I had ever compiled over the years, I did the impossible, the unthinkable. I, Bryony Earhart, managed the incredible feat of kissing the one and only, Will Deans.
It was nothing but a soft press of lips, but it was enough to knock the breath out of me. I instantly felt my face and neck warm from his breath washing over me – and maybe slight embarrassment at my unnaturally brash action.
"Eight." I whispered.
I did it again, capturing his lips with my own, my fingers digging into his shirt. He remained unresponsive, but I ignored the dread filling my gut.
Before the warmth could slide out of me again, I kissed him once more, pulling his bottom lip between my own and biting down on it gently, then attaching myself to his whole mouth. I felt weightless. I felt like I could burst into giggles at any moment.
"Ten." My voice was soft and breathy by now. I pulled away from him, watching his eyes open slowly.
What I saw made my stomach leap, almost painfully. They were soft! His lovely brown eyes were soft and gentle and inside-melting again!
It was his delicious looking eyes that gave me the power to speak.
"Tanya, your bitchy ex-girlfriend, said she knew I had my eye on you." I began quickly, before I could change my mind. "She told me that she knew you better than any girl. You're specific, she said. You only like pretty, smart, confident girls. Not girls like me. She told me I had no right to look at you like that, to suppose you could ever want me back. She told me to fuck off, basically. So I slapped her."
Will stared at me. His lips were parted slightly, his hair blowing in every direction, his eyes wide. I wanted to forget this whole speech shit, and just jump into his arms. But I couldn't. Not now I had started.
"I guess... I ran away from you for two reasons. One, because I've never had a boyfriend. I've never been romantically involved with a boy. You're my first." I shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "And the other is exactly what Tanya said. Why would you want someone like me?"
"Why?" He croaked suddenly, sounding incredulous. I blushed at the sound of his voice.
"I'm loud, I eat like a starved hippo, I don't give a shit what I look like..." I paused, startled by the horrified expression on his face.
"What?" He looked like an idiot, standing there with his eyes and mouth wide open. I felt like slapping him. "You think I want a quiet, anorexic, clothes-obsessed girl?"
I rolled my eyes. "Don't be dramatic. I'm just not... you know. Will Deans material."
"What in fuck's name is 'Will Deans material'?"
"Oh, shut up." I muttered, pulling my knitted cardigan tighter around my shoulders.
"You're a fucking idiot."
"Thanks." Stupid boy. Doesn't appreciate my heart-felt speech. Prick.
"You're a dense piece of shit."
"Honestly Will, you really know how to charm a girl." What is he, competing for Dick of the Month awards?
"I could kill you right now. I honest to God could."
"That's just peachy-"
"Shut the fuck up!"
Since when was he so close to my face?
I stared into his brown, burning eyes, and felt myself blush. He had a death grip on my shoulders, and his next words brushed over my face like a caress.
"If you ever fucking think you're not good enough for me again, I will hurt you." I gulped at his deep, throaty voice. His eyes dropped to my lips. "I don't know how it's slipped your notice, but I've been in love with you for eight years."
"What are you-"
"Ever since you came to my house and punched me in the mouth for stealing your little sister's doll." He continued, oblivious to my no-doubt flabbergasted expression. One of his hands had slid down to my waist, while the other progressed to my neck and was stroking the warming skin gently.
"That really hurt by the way."
The hand on my neck slipped behind my head to pull me towards him, before I felt his soft, slightly wet lips land on mine. Disbelief at his previous comment forced me to attempt to pull away.
"Shush." He murmured, before kissing me again. Inevitably, I responded. I felt my mouth meld with his and my hand move upwards to clutch at his messy hair.
"Wait, so are we-"
"I said shut up." He looked at me straight in the eyes, his mouth quirked upwards into a breath taking grin. "And just for the record, if you run away now, I will chase you. I don't give a fuck how far you go."
"Oh." Witty response, Bryony.
He leaned in to silence me again, but thought better of it at the last moment.
"Yes." He said suddenly. He was so close to me by now that his lips brushed enticingly against mine as he spoke. I shivered involuntarily, forcing myself not to undress him right there and then. I forced myself to listen to what he was saying. "We are going out. You are my girlfriend."
The blush on my face had to be bright enough so those dashing Eskimos in the North Pole could see me burning away with happiness.
"And I will personally do the slapping if any girl, ex or not, thinks you're not good enough for little old me." I felt him smile against my mouth, and I responded disgustingly quickly. I looked into his sparkling eyes, and felt my chest constrict.
"Okay." I murmured. Before he could disrupt me, I whispered the three words that I never thought I would say to a boy against his mouth. "And I love you too, Will Deans."
Woop. First story on this site! Pretty damn exciting.
It's funny, cause I started this oneshot with no clue where it was going. I kind of went with the flow, writing whatever came into my head, so I'm really sorry if it's awful. And I am also very sorry about the ridiculously rude language. I just seem to be into swearing a lot lately. It kind of came through in my writing :)
Please, please, PLEASE review! Anything you have to say, I WANT to hear it! It's my first one on fictionpress so it'd be really encouraging to have some feedback.
Thank you for reading x