You'd think
One-Shot!
Third Person's P.O.V.
They were born in the same hospital, same date different times. The baby girl with delicate soft brown eyes and blonde hair. The baby boy with dark chocolate eyes, almost black, and hair shades darker. The mothers already friends planned to make sure the two would live a life together. But you'd think that if they were together you'd think…just think.
When they were three, she was the only one he was ever with. They went and did everything together, but they were only two not understanding what they did. Everyone knew that one day, something would happen with those two. But to them, if she wasn't with him, she didn't know if she was in the right place.
When they were five she'd make sure to stick by the boy's side because the others weren't as nice. She's hold his hand and they'd walk anywhere, everywhere.
When they were eight they'd have frequent sleepovers, he'd come over to her house or she'd come over to his. They'd play games, tell scary stories. Some of his clothes would stay at his house, some at hers. They'd do everything together, anything anyone can imagine. He couldn't sleep in a room peacefully without listening to her breath in and out like a lullaby.
As they reached the age of twelve, things changed not just bodies, but actions, feelings. She'd kept it in so he wouldn't know a thing; he made sure she saw none of it. He'd reach over and grab her hand to cross the street, she would feel random struck of electricity, he'd wrap an arm around her waist when she broke her leg to walk her, and her breathing would stop.
He'd think of her all day long as he lays on his bed throwing a basket ball. Acid would boil through his stomach as he watched other boys pick up her books, walk her to class. Calm down when she looked back at him with pleading eyes.
At the age of 15 this is where you think.
You'd think they were in love as they stood under a tree, and she'd let him feed her grapes as she laughed. He'd pop grapes into his mouth as he stared at her. She would grab the bunch of grapes, get up and run as he would chase after her, her laughter the sound of bells as he grabbed her around the waist laughing as she smiled back at him putting grapes in her mouth.
He'd fall to the ground with her on top, they'd be carelessly laughing, enjoying everything together, every moment. The lovebirds of the town, when they'd walk home, he'd take her hand as they crossed a street, buy her dinner, walk her home and if he built up the courage, kiss her cheek.
Love was all you see around them…yet they do nothing about it. Idiots…