Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Darn it!
OK, so just about everyone who read the summary and clicked on this story was expecting a Dasey. If I tell you Emily's POV, will you come after me with sporks? Yes! Oh well, I've been sporked before. Whatever. Enjoy. Or at least try to.
It wasn't that I was in love with her. No, it wasn't that at all. I was just aware.
Aware of her beautiful face, of her curves, of the sensual way she moved her hips when she danced. I wasn't in love - I didn't lose any sleep over the fact that she would never be mine.
When I saw her in my mind, she was always dancing, always moving, never still. She told me once as we lied out looking at the stars during a camping trip that dancing was the one thing she loved more than anything else in the world. And even then, I was simply aware of her beautiful figure lying beside me, so innocent in the open night air.
Unlike what I did to Derek, I didn't simply "check Casey out". I didn't stare intently at certain parts of her body - I drank in her fairy-like figure with awe. At the same time, I didn't drool like Max and I didn't fantasize about sex like Sam. I accepted the fact I couldn't have her and still, at the same time, acknowledged her beauty.
She wasn't Kendra, she wasn't Debbie, and she wasn't Sandra. She was Casey, and I was aware of it.
Call me apathetic. Call me queer. Call me insane. Call me anything you want, and I'll just laugh and remind you of this: There is no love. I was only, and always will be, aware.