Okay, so this is my first fanfic...Tell me if I should continue!
Claire POV
I stared out my window.
Today was dreary, and VERY boring. It was raining heavily, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. Sighing, I turned back to my homework. I attempted to concentrate for a few moments, to no avail. Math was no fun on this sort of a day. What I really wanted was to curl up on my bed with my kitty, Ginger, a steaming hot mug of hot chocolate, and a nice book to read. I turned my head towards the other side of the room, and looked at my reflection in the mirror.
I was pretty, I guess.
At 15 years old, I had with wavy chestnut hair that fell to my lower back, eyebrows that arched perfectly, and turquoise eyes that were framed with thick black eyelashes, I was what some called exotic.
However, I didn't really care about the guys that thought I looked pretty; there was only place for one man in my heart, and that man was—
"Claire?"
A deep voice boomed from the other side of the door. I immediately recognized it: Quil. My heart fluttered at the mere thought of him.
"Claire, are you in there?" he asked.
I strolled across my room, and opened my door.
The sight that greeted my eyes was one that made my heart skip a beat.
Quil was standing in front of me, wearing a thin white shirt that hinted at the muscles that lay beneath it. His silky black hair fell in strands around his mahogany skin, and
"Quil!" I exclaimed, though I wasn't really surprised.
"Hey, Claire-bear! I just wanted to know if I could bunk here tonight." he said.
"'Course you can, Quil! You're always welcome here..." I trailed off.
"Thanks, Claire!" he called. "I'm gonna go raid the fridge, kay?"
"Sure!" I called over my shoulder, making my way back to my desk. I mentally berated myself for dressing in such plain clothing, and resolved to take a shower and wear something nicer. Of course, it wasn't really worth the effort; Quil would never think of me as anything but a sister. I sighed, and closed my math book. My kitty wandered into the room, and I picked her up and began to stroke her ginger-colored fur.
"Ginger, why is life so complicated?" I asked her, rubbing her belly.
I thought of my diary, safely hidden in a loose floorboard. It was a good thing that Quil would never find it! Ever since I was a young child, I had been writing in there, and through the several volumes, there were many pages dedicated to my large crush on Quil. He would never find out about it, though, because I would never want to lose the best friend that he was to me.
Good? Bad? Okay? Terrible? TELL ME!!!