Every Step.

A Troyella Oneshot - belated for Valentines Day.

You look at me with hurt and longing filling your eyes. You normally shiny hair, all curly and brown, hanging limply, in long, parted strands. Your skin is pale, haunting, and the black marks under your eyes tell me you haven't slept in days. This makes me worry. Your eyes, all chocolate and loving, are filled with tears, unshed. This makes my heart crack. You continue to look at me, with everyone else around us whispering. They mean nothing to you in this moment, and for reasons beyond me, all that matters to you is me. This gives me a strange sort of hope. Your lips part, as if speech will fall through them. But nothing comes. This makes me curious.

I stand with you, looking at you, in amongst the sea of students. It's Monday morning, and all the students have dragged themselves out of bed to face the day. They didn't know this would happen; they didn't know what would happen. Not after Friday's disaster, when we argued. And that made me not know what would happen. Did you know what would happen? Maybe, maybe not.

All I can think about is that we are standing here, together, but so apart.

Your eyes drift downwards, and because I know you so well, I realise you're trying to gather yourself and the words you wish to say. I remain silent, giving you the time you need. Even after I saw you kissing him, you still hold a piece of my heart. I think you always will.

You look up again, and face me. Your eyes tell me your apologising. A part of me wants me to throw my arms around you and embrace you until all those hateful memories of you and him go away. But another, stronger part of me tells me to wait; she has to say it to make me believe. So I stay silent, as does she, and the only sound around is the confused mutterings of our fellow students.

I never thought you would do what you did. I trusted you completely. My eyes tell no lies; I know what I saw. And maybe I shouldn't be hurting to hard. Maybe I shouldn't be thinking about this as if we were ever a couple. Because as much I want us to be, we weren't. I think she knows this. She knows how much I want us to literally be… us. She's the confusing one. I cannot read her. I have no idea if she feels the same way. But she gave me proof that she doesn't, but kissing him.

You play with your fingers, twisting and turning until there is nothing left for them to do. They shake, and stir, and as you stop they fall to your sides.

Finally my resolve shatters.

"Why?" It's a simple question. She knows what it means. And I'm asking it, wanting answers.

You look up at me, those tears that were previously unshed now pouring down your face. You sniff before you reply. "Because I'm selfish, and all I wanted was for you to notice me."

Does she not know how much I long for her? I've spent half my life noticing her. In a room of a thousand people she'd be the only one that I'd see. You look around, eyeing the people wearily. Some give her glares. Some give her reproachful smiles. And some look at her as if she'd mad. She's not mad; she's beautiful, and made for me.

I reach out and touch her cheek, feeling the wetness seep into my skin. "I've been noticing you for years. I just didn't know you wanted me to notice."

She shook her head. "I'd do anything for you to notice. I'd run miles for you."

I lean down, pressing my forehead to hers. "As long as every footstep brings you closer to me, you can run all the hell you want."

And with that, I lean down and kiss her.

A/N; I have absolutely no idea where this came from. I was just searching through fics, and it suddenly came to me. I wish I could tell you the grammar is correct and everything, but I can't; it's sorta written in between two persons. Yeah, it's weird. But hopefully, you'll like it enough to review!