The Disease
One day you started to realize that all that matters to you didn't anymore. Late night parties didn't amuse you as much, talking to random girls in random bars made you feel even more desperate, heck, even talking to your hockey buddies seem to has loose its touch. You wondered why you felt this way.
You ruffled your hair every once in a while; your eyes would not be fixed at something for longer than a minute. You realized that you have been doing this for a while and it bothered you. Last night your hands were a bit trembling when you were thinking about this, but you clenched your fists to make it stop. You bagged your mind and body not to do that to you anymore because sooner or later you know your friends will find out about the deficiency you got. And you probably don't care, but you don't want them to completely ignore you either. You tried to get better, or at least act better, you really did. You went into more parties, say hi to more girls with your famous pick up lines, dance till the dawn breaks but no- you still got this disease. You always went home alone and unsatisfied.
For a while you would stopped everything. You'd spent most your time inside the prince, with half of your arms stretched out of the window -literally staring into space. Or other times you would go home early and stared at the ceiling of your dorm room.
"Haven't seen you in a while D!" Your buddies would greet one day. You would nod, replying to the greeting with another one. You wasn't even sure that you were properly responding to the people you met lately, but that was the best you could do at the moment. The interactions with the people you met on the streets and in your class you really wanted to avoid (although you can't, not completely).
"Oh this is pathetic." You'd found yourself mutter. You knew that this was going to last for a while. This disease might have even started long before you entered college -and it probably did. That's why you knew sooner or later the symptoms would kick in.
In the next few months or so, your friends will know that their persuasion is futile. People would start to not invite you to parties, but you wouldn't care at this point because you knew that once you are back into shape, your friends would once again invite you over. You would start loosing weight and be more quiet and distant from anybody else. This you know would make your family worry.
It then would not be more than one month when you would hear the knocking on your dorm room. You would ask who was it at the door, and without reply someone would come barging in. Seeing her you would smirk.
The voice would ask what you were doing, and you would notice the worry in her voice. You would act natural beside her, because you knew she would notice that you weren't anyway. You know she knew you best, and you her, so you would make her worry a little bit more.
She would bring up this ridiculous plan of taking care of you, and you would act like you hated it, act like you hated her -but just for some while.
You would then be more outgoing with her by your side. And you would be better. You'd spent hours watching TV shows together with her, and you'd pick the right moment to be serious and sincerely thank her.
You would act all surprised to see that she would thank you as well, but deep down you understood. You knew those time you spent together with her were always the best. You then would stay together with her and spent time together even more, even when both know you already got better.
Friends would start inviting you to bars and clubs again, just like you predicted. But now you'd asked her to come along, and she would most of the time agreed. She didn't know, but you would stay at your dorm room when her time was occupied with her homework, because you knew you've caught a new disease.
Nothing would be good enough for you without her by your side anymore.
You would often come to her dorm room to accompany her, or drove her to meet her friends with your Prince. At first she would think that you were thanking her too much, but would still spend lots of time with you anyway. Your friends started to notice her, but you would always be able to stop guys that would get too close to your precious sibling.
Wait, your precious STEP-sibling.
Alright, you obviously got some problem there, but yes, the brunette you spent a lot of your time with recently.
She would not notice that you took extra care of her at first, but she would confront you (most likely with awkward silence after the first few words. You know she's not good with confronting people). Then she would understand that the relationship between the both of you reflects something much stronger than that of friends. Or even step-siblings. Deep down you already knew (or was this one of your devious plan from the start?).
You would ask her to give the relationship a try. And she would agree, although at first reluctantly.
It was hard, to persuade your friends, the siblings, the parents, or even the grandmothers (although the later would not concern your relationship in any way, but it felt good when you finally got their approval). You got a lot to prove. And you woul fight so that you can find your ways with the brunette you hold in your arms (then, anyways). You'd argue, but would always made up. Because you know you are most compatible with her.
Although sometimes you think the relationship was not that of the best, you would be satisfied in the end. You knew that one-day would come when you would look back, nodded, and you would subconsciously -or maybe consciously- smirk in victory.
You knew it was all too well thought and done.
a/n: Here's to my first (published) 2nd POV story. The urge of writing this one-shot just came to me this morning. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. Do comments!
