Lovely insecurity

Feelings are a funny thing, aren’t they? Feelings of the romantic kind, to be more specific. Love. It’s like a beautiful irony, an unsolvable puzzle, a catch-22 from which there’s no escape, but then again, one that people often refuse to get away from and one they desperately seek, even. Love is both the sickness and the cure, the blessing and the curse. It’s hell on earth, but paradise as well. The more its flames burn ablaze, the deeper the wounds it makes, painfully appealing, as if orbiting too close to the Sun, and painfully cold when you stand at a safe distance.

Case in point, we have two young souls, resigned prisoners of said feelings. Neither knew when it had started: when the slightest accidental brush of hands as they walked side by side had become electrifying and too much to bear. When maintaining eye-contact for little more than a second had begun feeling like an all but impossible feat. Thus, it seemed like every time they felt the need to get closer, they only drew further apart. Perhaps not trusting themselves to keep their composure if they gave in to the magnetic force pulling them towards the other, or perhaps finding solace in staying hidden behind the safety of the walls they had built. And most definitely because no matter how obvious their mutual attraction was to anyone who witnessed their interactions, both of them shared the same gut-wrenching conviction that they were unworthy of the other’s affection. As such, as an unspoken rule of sorts, they always remained at a safe distance from each other.

However, slowly but surely, he was growing tired of trying to convince himself he wasn’t enough. And even more so, of seeing her do the same. She, on the other hand, was growing tired of being dishonest about her feelings, but that didn’t mean she could get rid of her fears and hesitation just yet, and it didn’t make tearing down the carefully-built walls any easier.

So, here they were, one fateful night, basking in the remote company of the object of their affection, in the park where they always seemed to end up when there was too much to be said but neither felt like talking, content with just gazing at the stars or engaging in idle chatter. But tonight would be different.  She was sitting cross-legged on the grass while staring at the starry sky. He stood, leaning on a tree, quite a few feet away from her. He came to the alarming realization that, that particular evening, instead of directing his full attention to the sky, he felt a lot more inclined to catch a glimpse of her, which he had found himself doing terribly often for the past thirty minutes or so.

Luckily enough, she was too enraptured by the wonders of the galaxy and preoccupied with finding different constellations. Or so he thought. Little did he know, she was actually pretending to be incredibly interested in a particular spot of the vast space above them while making a point of avoiding his gaze. She didn’t last much longer, gave up and turned to him just as he was, for the gazillionth time, stealing a furtive glance at her. Their eyes met and, oddly enough, what now felt like an impossible feat was for him to look anywhere else other than her green orbs glowing under the moonlight’s embrace. As for her, she still struggled, thinking that staring at him was just as hard as looking away. She gave up again and resumed her very important observation of that very interesting speck of light. He decided to strike up a conversation in hopes of relieving himself from the awkward atmosphere.

"How do you put up with me? I find myself wondering that quite often." He asked. As great a conversation-starter as any.
"I could ask you the same thing." She replied, the ghost of a smile adorning her features.
"I guess we've both always had high tolerance for other people's antics. Could be because, being quite draining and obnoxious ourselves, we understand their antics all too well." He slid down the tree and sat, laying his head on the trunk, still quite a few feet from her.
She snorted adorably. "Make no mistake, I only find some semblance of toleration when faced with people whose company I really do enjoy." She decided if she was going to be honest she might as well start now, with the person who mattered the most to her.
"Mm. Like who?" He already knew the answer, or at least hoped he did, but he figured he’d ask anyway. He’d somewhat known from the very beginning, except now he wasn’t trying to talk himself into believing that there was no way he could be right.
"Well... I'm here now aren't I?" She said, bringing her knees close to her chest and gingerly placing her chin on them, seeming almost afraid of what she had admitted, or what she was soon to admit.
He felt his pulse quicken, his chest tighten, and that spark of hope that maybe he was right grew more intense. "Careful there, that almost sounded like a compliment." He remarked.
"That may have been the intended effect of my implication." She managed to reply, past the lump in her throat.
"If I didn't know any better I'd be reckless enough to assume you actually harbor some sort of feelings toward me." He proceeded to lie on the grass, still quite a few feet away from her but, maybe unconsciously and unintentionally, a little bit closer than before.

She let out a long, tired sigh. "I do. That's the problem." The young girl finally confessed, further curling into a ball.
He couldn’t help the dry laugh that escaped his lungs. "You always enjoyed complicated."
She narrowed her eyes and frowned at him, clearly far from amused. "I enjoy the challenge, it's rewarding. This, however... I fear the solution is beyond my reach." She decided to lie down as well, using an arm to cover her face.

He rolled onto his side to face her. "Just reach out. I'm right here."

"I know. You've always been." Was her reply as she removed her arm from her face and, also unconsciously and unintentionally, placed it between the two of them, as if looking to close the distance.
"So? What's the problem then?"
She sighed. She appeared to be doing that a lot lately. Especially when being around him, or when thinking of him. No wonder then, for she did that a lot too. "The problem is I can reach out but I don't know if I should…” She braced herself and rolled to face him. Here was the final admission, one that was certainly scarier than confessing her attraction to him. “I don't deserve you. You're amazing, talented, and nice. Too nice. And I'm just, you know-"
"Trust me, I know. You're just the girl I fell in love with." He said matter-of-factly.

She frantically searched for even the faintest trace of sarcasm or mockery in his expression, but wasn’t able to find any. She didn’t quite know if that relieved her or scared her that much more, seeing as it made this whole situation more real and unavoidable."Who knew you could be such a romantic?” Came her forced reply as she quickly shifted her position to lie on her back hiding her face once more, in order to prevent him from noticing the extremely obvious blush that painted her cheeks. He had noticed all right, and the sight brought a smile to his face. But he chose not to tease her or comment on it, just lying in silence instead. Alas, the quiet moment stretched on, and time passed excruciatingly slowly. Unfortunately, neither were sure what to say to break the uncomfortable air surrounding the two.  “...I don't deserve you." She repeated dumbly.

And that was enough to get him to talk again. "Since when do you get to decide what's good for me?" He inquired, hoping to have succeeded in keeping his expression even and his exasperation from seeping through his words. He had failed miserably.
Her eyes widened at his tone. He had sounded reproachful. Not exactly angry, but disappointed, which was worse. Still, she was pretty stubborn, so she continued to put up a fight. "Ever since I found out what terrible taste you have." She replied self-deprecatingly, looking at him and smiling wryly. And boy, who knew seeing the girl he loved smile could make him so mad?

Being fairly obstinate himself, he wasn’t about to back down either. He would convince, not only himself, but her as well, that they were perfect. Actually, scratch that. He’d convince her that, even though they weren’t perfect, they were just fine the way they were, and he wouldn’t dare change a single thing. “I’m not sure you can give proper advice on that matter. You like me, after all. So,” he continued, standing up and offering her a hand, as he took a tentative step towards her. “I believe that, rather than trying to improve our poor judgement, we should just revel in our faults and mistakes and be terrible together."
She stood up, her lips curling upwards. This time the smile reached her eyes, dazzlingly genuine. He could definitely get used to seeing that beam on her face. “You make a valid point. Shall we start making mistakes right about now, then?"
He grinned, incapable of wiping the dopey look off his face. "I thought you'd never ask."
And just like that, all of a sudden, the distance and cold felt infinitely more suffocating than the flames. As they drew closer and closer to each other, the silence that followed was a much more comfortable one, only disrupted by muffled noises of pleased agreement while their lips met, and sharp intakes of breath when they pulled away and simply lay there, still filled with insecurities, but dangerously safe in each other's arms.

Reviews

[Jade Stone]

Such a beautiful story I've never been in love but the way you described it just felt right if that makes sense anyway great job.

[zanymaybee]

Wow thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it!