There was something about Joe Grey that always seemed to bug everyone.
He dreamed when he should've been awake.
He loved when he should've hated.
He got up again when he was supposed to scrape his knees.
Maybe that was his problem. He always defied the world. What he was supposed to do, he did the opposite of. What the world pulled him toward, he moved in the opposite direction of.
The girl he was supposed to stay away from, he gravitated toward.
Miley Stewart was always his brother's girl. They broke up, got back together; broke up, got back together, and like so, the cycle went on.
So it was clear (so, so clear), that Miley was off-limits. It was clear that she didn't belong to him, and that she probably never would. The world was all Niley-this, Niley-that. There was simply no room for Joe and Miley, two lovers (without an identified relationship. He felt those were always degrading. Why be plagued with a silly, petulant couple name? Two people in love should never be identified that way.)
So what was with these idyllic fantasies about her and her long, pretty, perfect brown hair and his fingers running through it? Did he live to torture himself with mental lapses of her soft, puckered pink lips smoldering his, and her small-framed body lingering on his, her heated skin flushed with desire under his feverish touch? Joe Grey had never felt so in lust before - but he supposed he had never felt so in love before, either.
He didn't even know what he found so fascinating about her. Her laugh was other-worldly, like a sweet chime that could brighten anyone's day, but a lot of girls had that laugh. He was convinced that all girls were just born with it.
Her smile was like a sunrise; one look and she had him feeling refreshed, like it was a whole new day and a whole new life, even. Joe was satisfied when he had Miley's smile. He felt like he had the world on his side, like he was finally along the same track with everyone in it. But she couldn't be the only one with that smile, could she?
It could have been her ocean blue eyes; staring into them made his stomach clench with butterflies he hated to have and his mind get lost with thoughts he should never think.
He didn't know what it was about her that got him so hooked, but whenever they were alone - when it was just the two of them together - he felt like a man who was staring into the eyes of his wife only seconds after the title was pronounced, like that rush of happy bliss they'd get when they realize they're one step closer to forever. It was like running down a hill too fast and not being able to slow your feet - it was falling in love too quickly and not knowing how to stop.
And maybe he knew that having these feelings would lead him and everyone around him to one massive trainwreck.
But on the other hand, he was always a man (or maybe just a boy) of defiance.
Cough. New story that I'm writing for myself, mainly. xD