A/N Thank you Guest, for your review. I wish there were more Buffalo '66 fan stories as well.
Disclaimer: I Don't Own Buffalo '66.
Affection always came hard for Billy. He was never really good at showing it, or receiving it, let alone feeling it. So as you can guess, it wasn't second nature when he decided to reciprocate Layla's feelings for him.
In fact, it was a very hard thing for him to do. He didn't think that he'd fall in love with her at first. And truthfully, he didn't want to fall in love with her at all. She was only supposed to serve one purpose; fooling his parents into thinking he hadn't been in prison for the past five years.
But then something else happened. Something unexpected. Despite his bitter attitude and abrasive personality, she was nothing but kind, and patient with him. She stood by him, and comforted him, she cared for him, and eventually, she even fell in love with him.
Why or how, he would never know. He just knew that whatever the reason, however it happened, it sure felt good to be loved. Even by a blonde, tap-dancing girl like Layla.
He figured that after all he'd put her through, she at least deserved getting some of his love, his heart, back.
When he returned to the hotel room, he found her slumped over on the bed, eyes closed, cheeks tear-stained, looking as beautiful as ever (though he didn't think he'd ever be able to tell her that).
She didn't hear him enter the room, he observed, because she didn't turn her head when he creaked the door open to enter. Or if she did hear him, she didn't acknowledge him, so he decided then and there that it would be the perfect opportunity to surprise her.
"Layla," he said softly, making his way over to the side of the bed, and kneeling down to talk to her. He rested an unsure hand on her shoulder. Her eyes shifted under their lids at the sound of someone saying her name, but they immediately fluttered open the moment she felt his hand make contact with her shoulder.
"Billy?" she asked hopefully, fresh tears building in her eyes, and spilling out over their lids.
"Am I dreaming?"
"No," he said quietly, a ghost of a smile on his face. "You're not dreaming." he said, moving his hand up to her face to touch her cheek, and swiping a few tears away with his thumb.
"I came back," he told her. "I know I was gone for a long while, but...I came back. So I just wanted to tell you-"
But before he could finish, she sat herself up on the bed, threw her arms around him, and cried into his neck, nearly knocking the hot chocolate and paper bag right out of his hand in the process.
"Don't leave again..." she sobbed. "I was worried about you...Don't leave me again, okay?"
To Billy's surprise, he was immediately wracked with guilt at the previous thought he'd had of leaving her for good before he'd gone and entered the club across the way. Not only would she have been heartbroken - he knew - but he would have been heartbroken as well.
"Okay, I'm sorry." he said into her hair, his left arm wrapped awkwardly around her. "I'm sorry, okay? I won't leave you again. I'll be right here. I'll be right here, with you. I promise."
"You do?" Layla sniffled, pulling herself away to face him.
"Did you not hear me?" he asked rhetorically. "I said I promise, okay? I'll never leave again. It'll just be you and me. We'll be two comrades. We'll be...'best friends'. You can be..." he trailed off for a second. "...my girlfriend." he finished hesitantly, fearful of her rejection though he knew it was very stupid of himself to be.
She loved him, he knew. She had already admitted it before.
But still, there was that fear inside him.
That lingering worry of no one wanting him.
What if even though she loved him, she didn't want to be with him?
"How about that?" he asked timidly, looking at her with meek eyes.
"Would that be okay?"
Layla's eyes sparkled in the dim light of the hotel room, and her heart swelled with happiness.
"I can be your girlfriend?" she inquired softly.
"Yes..." he nodded slowly, head low, eyes avoiding her gaze.
"For real?"
"Yes," he confirmed. "For real. That's not something I joke about, okay?"
"So I have your permission to be your girlfriend?"
"Yeah," he nodded to her again, only much more confidently this time. "I'm giving you permission to be my girlfriend."
"So I can do things that girlfriends do?"
"In theory..." he said cautiously. "What things do you think girlfriends do?"
"They kiss their boyfriends on the cheek," she said, pointing a finger to her face. "And ruffle their hair when it's messy," She shook her head to wave her blonde strands. "And they tell their boyfriends they love 'em..." she leaned in close and put an arm around him, just as he set the hot cocoa on the nightstand. "And they stick by them no matter what."
"Okay..." Billy said uncomfortably, putting a hand on her collarbone and gently pushing her away to put some distance between them. "But I'm only giving you permission to do two of those things, okay? Just two," He held up his fingers in a peace-sign gesture. "You got me?"
She nodded.
"Say 'yes'," he told her. "So I know you're telling the truth."
"Yes." She complied, despite showing a hint of annoyance.
"Okay. Good." He patted her gently on the shoulder. "We got that cleared up."
"So is this one of those things?" she asked innocently, leaning in close to his face and stealing a quick kiss on the cheek when he wasn't looking.
"Um..." Billy's eyes widened in disbelief, as he inwardly debated whether or not to scold her for her action, though he secretly enjoyed it either way. "Yeah..." he said slowly. "It's one of those things."
"And I get to stick by you no matter what?" she asked, scooting a bit closer to him and hanging her feet off the bed.
"Right," he said, re-positioning himself on the floor so that there was a few more inches between them. "You stick by me no matter what."
"So I can't do this?" she asked briefly (though she committed the act before he could answer) putting her hand atop his head and ruffling it a little.
His whole body stiffened at the gesture, for he was reminded of a time when he was much younger, and his mother had done the very same thing to him when she - if not genuinely - at least pretended that she cared about him. Now she couldn't even do that.
"N...no..." he said quietly, setting the paper bag down on the nightstand next to the hot chocolate, and slowly bringing his hand up to his head to attempt removing hers from his hair.
"You can't..." he swallowed the small hard lump that soon formed itself in his throat.
"Um...alright," he caved, when her hand ceased to stop moving, and her expression clearly said that she wouldn't be stopping anytime soon.
"Maybe just a couple times," he said. "Just twice, alright? Just twice, you got that?"
"Mhmm," She nodded, smiling to herself. "Just twice."
"Okay..." he said after a few times more. "That's enough."
Her hand immediately froze, and her arm slunk away.
The room was silent for a while.
Billy, because he was stuck in a trance, having flashbacks of his childhood (or lack there of), and Layla, because she simply didn't know if he would tolerate her talking to him anymore.
A moment later, however, she managed to find her voice, and bravely broke him out of his trance.
"What's that?" she inquired, pointing to the brown paper bag, and steaming foam cup on the nightstand.
"This?" he asked, picking up said bag and foam cup, and handing them to her as he got up off the floor, and sat down beside her on the bed. "It's for you. I got it for you."
"For me?" Her eyes lit up as she took the paper bag in her hands. "What is it?"
"Well, you have to open it up to find out, so open it up."
Layla quickly rooted through the scarcely filled bag, and pulled out its only contents; a heart-shaped cookie.
"Billy! It's a heart!" she exclaimed, holding it up to his face so he could see.
"Yeah," he scoffed. "I noticed that when I bought it."
"You did?" she asked, taking a couple bites of the stiff, sweet dough, and gingerly sipping from the foam cup before setting it back on the nightstand. "You mean you picked it out and stuff? Someone didn't give it to you?" She swiped some of the cocoa off her upper lip with the back of her sleeve.
"What do you mean 'someone didn't give it to me'? Of course I picked it out. Why would I let someone else give me a heart-shaped cookie?" he sighed.
"So does this mean you love me?" she asked abruptly, ignoring his initial question, and immediately catching him off guard.
"What do you think, huh? You think that means I love you?"
"I don't know," she said quietly, stuffing the last bits of cookie into her mouth and shrugging to herself. "I want it to..."
"Of course I do. Why else would I give you permission to be my girlfriend? I told you I don't joke about that stuff."
"I know...I just..." She swallowed. "I wanted to hear you say it..." She said sadly, turning her head away from him.
"Hey, wait." he said, taking her chin in his hand, and turning (or jerking) her head back to face him. "Say what?"
"That you loved me..." she whispered, as if her saying it aloud was strictly taboo.
Billy fell silent.
Should he tell her that he loved her?
For real?
He'd never shared his feelings with anyone, not even his parents.
How would he do it now?
"Alright," he decided, muttering to himself. "I love you, okay? Is that good enough for you?"
She shook her head 'no'.
"I love you!" he all but yelled, causing her eyes to widen and her body to jump ever so slightly at the volume in his voice. Although it satisfied her nonetheless.
"I love you too, Billy." she replied, unknowingly causing the last bit of ice in his heart to melt, and setting it aflame with her love.
"I know..." he said, laying himself down on the bed as she moved to make room for him, and folding his hands across his chest.
Having a sudden thought, he turned over on his side, and patted the spot next to him.
"Come 'ere, okay? Lie down with me."
"Okay." She moved to lie next to him, but he held a hand out to stop her, causing her much confusion.
"But only if you want to." he said. "I don't want you to think that I'm making you do anything, because I'm not. Not this time. This is all you okay? This is all your doing. I'm not making you do anything."
"Okay," She nodded quickly. "I understand. I want to."
"You do?" he asked, surprise evident in his voice.
He supposed things would've gone a lot smoother earlier on if he'd just allowed her to do what she wanted to, instead of bossing her around all day.
Who knows? His dad might even of bought her phony story of how they'd met, or at least told a better one, if he hadn't ticked her off by forcing her to break her vegetarian diet.
"Yeah, I want to."
"Okay..." he said cautiously, narrowing his eyes and slinking back to other side of the bed to give her more room.
"Do you want me to?" she asked after she'd lied down beside him.
"Do I want you to?" he repeated.
"Yes," she said, nodding her head against his. "I want to know."
"Yeah," he replied, resting his chin on her shoulder, and exhaling.
"I want you to."
...