Hi, everyone! I know I promised to update my stories soon, and I have been working one them, and even a new one (not this one) but I'm just super busy lately. I've just started driver's ed and it's boring as hell, but not terrible. Just takes up an extra 3 ½ hours of my day. -_- Add that to all the homework I get and I'm either passed out by 10 or up until 1 finishing it all. So, as soon as it's all over and I have free time again, I'll finish the chapters, but until then, here's a Spova story. Enjoy. :)

I was inspired while listening to the "Elephant Love Medley" scene in Moulin Rouge. (LOVE that movie) You should look the song up on YouTube. Go. NOW.

No own SRMTHFG.

He's an idiot. A flirt. A player.

How could I have feelings for someone like that? That's right, I can't.

It's better that way, for the both of us.

I'm a warrior. Hardened. Tough. I can't let feelings interfere with my training. I have to stay on the ground. Sturdy. Secure. Sure of myself.

He's a pilot. A free sprit. Free to fly the skies, go wherever he pleases, which he does on a regular basis, showing off and making a big deal out of his grand arrival, always with that smirk and that twinkle in his eye that says Hey-I'm-here-now-and-I-know-you're-glad-I'm-back-so-don't-even-pretend-you're-mad.

Ha. Moron. An unreliable, sarcastic, moronic, jerk. Who I do not have feelings for. At all.

Right?

.|||.

I can't take it anymore. I have to tell her. I have to. All I'm doing is driving myself crazy here, trying to tell her how I feel with sexist comments and making fun of her. Why can't I just be serious for once?

Oh, yeah. Cuz I'm a coward.

I can't tell her, but I have to. I can't. I have to. I can't. I have to. I can't. I have to. I have to. I have to. I am. I'm going to. I'm going right now. Just gonna life my foot up here and… I can't.

I can't tell her I love her.

Why can't I just say "Nova, you mean more to me than anything in this entire universe and I would do anything for you. I love you."

Because I'm a coward, that's why.

I want to tell her, and I work up the courage every time, but then… I just… can't. It comes out something along the lines of; "Man, that chick over there is totally hot and I'm a sexist pig, so why don't you just go in the kitchen where you belong and make me a sandwich while I go over there, totally ignore you, and try to score?"

… Well, maybe not exactly like that, but looking back on everything I've said, I might as well have. That's probably what she thinks of me anyway and I don't blame her.

Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to go bang my head against that wall over there repeatedly until I black out.

.|||.

Sprx. Sprx. Sprx-77. I can't have feelings for him, can I? I mean, he can be such a butt sometimes. So much so that I have to kick his butt. He's got a pretty cute butt. Gah, okay, enough with the butts! Geez…

Nope. It's not goin' away. "Insert face-palm here."

Okay, so I think he's got a nice *cough* *cough.* (not going there again) So what? I mean, he's pretty built in the front too. Under that fur, there's a freaking six-pack. That one time when he hugged me, whoa. And that time I caught him after he got out of the shower, with his fur all wet and sticking to him… The guy's more built than me, but I never see him work out. And… I'm obsessing over his physique. What does that mean?

It means I think he's hot. Crap.

Okay, so, um… a physical attraction doesn't mean love. It just means I've got a crush. An infatuation. That's not love, or passion, or anything like that.

But… ya know, while I'm crushing on him, I could admire the way his mouth looks when he's doing that obnoxiously cute smirk of his. So perfect, the way it just tilts up and makes his eyes kinda… twinkle… I guess you could say that.

Or the way his whole face lights up at the dumbest things, like a hot fudge sundae or a new can of polish for his magnets.

Or the way he looked that one time after he flew his Fist Rocket for hours in the summer, despite the fact that the air conditioning was busted and he almost passed out from dehydration. All sweaty and… No. Wait. Stop.

No crushing. No feeling. Love is an emotion enemies can exploit. They could hurt – did I say love? Ha, no, see, I meant infatuation is an emotion enemies can exploit.

It's not love, just an infatuation. A crush. Not serious. A crush. A crush. A crush. Crush. Crush. Crush. Not love.

Love… love… love? Could I be in love with him? Naw.

But… if I'm not in love, why is it that whenever I see him looking at me, my heart starts to beat a thousand miles an hour? Or, when he smiles at something I did, my stomach does flip-flops and I feel so… incredibly happy? Why do I get concerned and run to protect him when we're fighting an enemy? Why do I get jealous when he talks to other girls?

Monkey doodle. I think I'm in love with Sprx-77.

Ha. Monkey butts. Oh, that was weird to write about.