Drowning

One-parter

This was one of my first pieces, so if it's not great then you know why. I like it, but please review to tell me what you think and if you want a sequel. Thanks.

I'm sure you have guessed who this is based on, if not you will when you read it.

I own nothing, apart from my recently collected bus pass! Yay! No more paying for getting to college. :oD

Oh and I'm British, just so you know.

I refuse to look at it. His tousled blonde hair spiking in every which way. His slight, small dimple placed on his left cheek. That ever growing smirk, perfecting very day.

I have tried so hard to show emotions towards him and the rest of Chilton- the students, the staff, the walls, that were the complete opposite to my actual feelings.

We banter, bicker some of the time, returning witty remarks to the other. For me it is purely to hide what and how much I do feel for him.

For him... well I'm not sure why he does what he does.

She has figured me out. Lorelai, my best friend. My mother. She prances round the room giggling, singing, rhyming, all to my denial, but she knows and does not trust my word on the matter.

She claims it's in my eyes.

I believe her. After all, I take after her and I can read eyes like I read books.

Sometimes I see what I wish I wouldn't.

I cant read him though.

I understand he puts his fences up with all his might, when he is in the hell that is Chilton. I have even come to know what he is like at home, which is where my infatuation started.

A little rain and a miss-of-the bus put me in a compromising position.

I did not loose anything but gained. I gained his trust, however we do not use it often. Instead we play a game of remorse until we are alone.

I fear these times the greatest.

I feel myself opening to him, and him opening to me. This is when I fall, harder and harder for him.

He amazes me.

I know he wants love. He told me so in one of our moments of trust. I want to be his first. The first love of his life, other than family.

I know I won't be the first to sleep with him. His reputation and rumours affirm that but I know he doesn't feel the passion, the romance, the love within the kisses he has been given.

He stands in front of my locker, connected at the lips to some female, who would be replaced within weeks.

I am jealous. I try to hide it through anger and start an argument. I never win, however he doesn't always either. We argue more about meaningless things, why I do not know.

I cry some nights into my pillow so my mother can't hear.

Some day he will drown me as I fall the furthest I can go, hopefully he will be with me, holding my hand as we jump together.