His hair is dark.
I mean, I bloody knew that. It ain't a big shocker. I'd just, not noticed how nice it was till now.
"What are you lookin at?"
Shite.
"I ain't lookin at naught."
"You sure? Then in his awful posh accent, he says "Deducing something Holmes?"
"Elementary my dear Watson." I say back in an even worse posh accent. If that was even possible.
He grins. I grin too. We looked like two right idiots. But I didn't mind. And neither did he.
Michael returned back to our homework.
Yes our homework. He got our bloody arses in detention and now, he's getting em' out.
"You're murdering me ya' know." He calls out eyes still on the papers of apparent 'murder'.
"That's the point."
I decide to rest my head rested on his desk tryin my best not to get my hair in Michael's way. I should close my eyes. Pass the time until we got out of this hell hole, but no, my eyes had a different plan. I looked up my eyes subconsciously trailing to Michael's hair. I probably shouldn't be starin right at him, right then, but I did. It was just so nice ya know. All dark and fair like.
Christ what is wrong with me today.
"You're definitely lookin at me."
"No I'm not."
"Bullocks."
"Well what if I was?" I joked."
"Well then I'd just have to kiss that pretty little face of yours a'gain." He joked?
I move my face closer to his "You don't dare" I say sarcastically.
I saw him imitated me. "I do." he says also sounding sarcastic.
Our faces are close. Real close. I look at his red lips taking note at the freckle above his top lip.
I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I wonder why.
I should move away. Right now. But I don't want to.
Then, I feel lips on mines.
I guess I'll let him kiss me. I already know how he feels about me. I don't feel the same. Shouldn't hurt. right?
His lips are real soft, or at least softer than mines.
When we pull away, I look at him
He was starin at me with those big, blue, jewel-like eyes.
They were also right open.
Shit.
I kissed him.
Right. Words. Words. I knew em'. I could say em'. I had to say em.' Now.
"Fuck."
Fuck. Brilliant. Fucking brilliant.
"Billy-"
I hear him say but I decide to interrupt.
"Sorry... I'm... so sorry."
I'm pretty sure we could both feel the awkwardness. I had just kissed my best mate. Why? I don't know. It's ain't like I fancied him or naught. I ain't a poof.
I should say something. Anything. But I can't.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
"You're all right." I heard him mutter.
"What?" I look at him.
"The kiss. It was all right." He says, looking down at our homework.
"Oh...You know, you have a freckle. Right above your lips."
"Fuck off, you prat."
That day, A letter came in. A letter that would change me life. A letter that made me happy.
So I hopped and I skipped and I left him with a kiss. And London It seemed, I had never seen more beautiful of thing.