A/N: My first K-ON! fanfic. Of course all of the normal disclaimers and notices apply. This is just a lemony story of unrequited love.

Words Unsaid

We finish our set, and she's the first person I look to. From my vantage behind the drum kit, she looks like the determined leader I only wish I could be. Dedicated, resolute, prepared to make sacrifices to attain perfection. I admire her passion. I look down at my drum kit so she won't spot me staring at her.

She re-tunes her bass and calls for the next number. I nod and raise my sticks. I shout out the beat, waiting to make her proud. When my drums create the beat, her bass is there to establish the groove. Off in the distance, I am able to register the strums of the guitar, the happy notes of a keyboard, but all I hear is the groove.

One, I'm ready to tell her. Two, I can't do it now. Three, I think I love her. Four, she won't believe me anyway. My beat is my pride; my beat is my torture.

At last the song finishes, and it's time to break for tea and cake. I eagerly leap out from behind my station and practically fly over to the tables. I register her glare. Deep inside, I am ashamed, but on the outside, I give her a confident grin.

The normal chatter fills the room. Sawa-chan naturally appears out of nowhere to show off the latest round of humiliating items. I see my girlfriend being dragged away to become Sawa-chan's model again. It's safe to call her my girlfriend here in the confines of my own mind. What's not safe is Sawa-chan's office. Quickly I speak up to rescue the love of my life, enticing our teacher with the promise of more tea. My groovekeeper gives me an appreciative smile. Inside, I blush.

And so it goes, until at last it's time to depart for the evening. She walks home with me, same as every day. Quiet fills us as we walk the streets to our neighborhood, but that's okay. She is one who talks when she is ready, who relishes in the silence. Silence makes me uneasy, so I joke about how cute she would have looked in the latest outfit. She hits me on the head for the joke. Only, I was being serious.

For years, I've been looking for hints. Any gleam of the eye, any moment of tenderness that would show me that she wants exactly what I want. It's quite obvious I'm not always a girly girl. But she probably only thinks of me as a best friend. When the time comes, she will ask me her opinion on the boys she wants to date. I will give her my friendly advice; my heart will break.

Every girl dreams about her wedding day, and I guess I'm no different. Only, I see her in a white dress, holding a bouquet of white flowers that make her gray eyes sparkle. I would be in a dress only if she requested it. I would much rather wear a black suit, complete with a golden vest and tie that would accentuate my eyes as well. Much more comfortable. Much more me.

But those daydreams are for middle school girls, and college is nearly upon us. I suppose college is where we're supposed to face our fears, make choices that shape our lives, and travel the road to becoming successful adults. But what's wrong with dreaming? If I couldn't dream, I wouldn't sleep. At night, I have nowhere to hide.

Now comes the most agonizing part of my day. The fork in the road where she crosses to her house, and I to mine. I smile at her, but it must be softer than she's accustomed to seeing. She blushes and my smile quickly turns to a grin. Instead of walking to my house I follow her, telling her I want to visit the fountain in the park that divides her house from mine. She comes with me.

I rest on the edge of the fountain, feeling the occasional stray drop fall onto my head. She sits beside me and I give her a smile before turning my back to her. I write my feelings down on a sheet of paper while she looks up at the cloudy sky.

I write for a while until she asks about it. I quickly scribble the last of it down and tear the paper out of my notebook before handing the sheet to her.

She reads, she screams and then quickly cowers away, hands over her ears and her eyes squeezed shut. On the sheet of paper is what looks to be a large spider. My doodling skills are getting better. My feelings are folded up and thrown into the fountain. I watch the ink begin to dissolve before comforting her. I get two hits on the head. My confession is now between me and the Water Kami.

At home I know I can text her or ask to come over just to be around her, but the thought of being rejected makes me sick. Instead, another day passes where I still haven't confessed to her. If only she'd send me a sign.

I bathe and ready myself for bed. Before sleep, I breathe the name of my affection.

"Mio..."

Postscript: So there it is. I may make this a multi-chapter fic if people like it enough. So please review! Favorite it, do whatever you can. I've been in a bit of a slump lately, so if there's enough demand, I'll try my hand at doing a second chapter from Mio's perspective. Thanks!