It was a long walk home that night. Predictable really, I had never expected anything to come of it. I was an absolute knob head to think that by being honest with everyone about me, that it would miraculously fix everything. Sure, the gang was supportive, especially Chop. But it wasn't enough, and that's the most fucked up and selfish thing about it.

Like I said, it was a long fucking walk home. It had started drizzling outside, and the fabric of my dress eventually became soaked and mud ridden. I didn't really know why the rain didn't bother me. In any other circumstance, I'd leg it to find cover, but I was tired and beaten in a way I couldn't quite explain.

As I made it back to the flat, the sky looked darker than normal. Almost as if it were about to swallow me whole, and I didn't really mind to be honest. I had just told my deepest secrets to a room full of strangers and my closest friends. But most of all, I told my deepest secret to the person who mattered most to me. Finn. But after it was over, he was off. I asked Archie where I could find him, and he told me that Finn said he had gone to the chippy. By the time I got there, I realized I was too late.

I thought I was supposed to feel better, like a big fucking weight lifted off my shoulders. But deep inside, I never wanted to tell my story more than I wanted acceptance for it.

By the time I made it upstairs, I realized no one was home. Mum and Karim were most likely still at the reception, and I wondered if it was dangerous for me to be home alone again. Still, I couldn't help but practically tear off the ruined dress and let my hair down out of the clip. After changing into a Stone Roses tee shirt and black leggings, I sat down and grabbed my journal. I stared for a long time at the blank page teasing at me. Write it all down, Rae. But this time I couldn't. Frustrated and absolutely knackered, I gave up.

Just as I set my journal on the nightstand, I heard two knocks on the door downstairs. My heart jumped a bit before I hauled my ass downstairs.

I honestly wasn't expecting it to be anyone else. Finn. But he looked different. Something was definitely up with him. I was sure he was just about to tell me that it was nice being friends while it lasted, but the whole mental institution thing threw him, and he couldn't be seen around town with a self-proclaimed mental. But a beat later, I let out a gasp when he reached forward and hugged me so tight I thought for the first time in my life I might break.

"Why didn't you tell me…?" he asked when we broke away. His eyes were full of questions and concern, He didn't seem mad that I didn't tell him, but he made it evident that he wanted to be that person in my life that I could tell those things to. His eyes were so easy to read when he let me.

"I don't know. Really, I didn't know how…I didn't know what everyone would think." I said… now I couldn't face him. I looked down at my hands to avoid his stare. "I was scared." His hands came into sight and grabbed mine. They were warm, but strong. Calloused slightly, but I'm not fucking lying when I say they were perfect. Everything about him seemed to fit quite perfectly with me, but I kept shaking that notion when I realized the absolutely fucking reality of the situation. I was embarrassed of myself. Even though I didn't know why he was holding my hands, I realized that I didn't want him to. Of course I loved it, but I couldn't believe…I didn't want to believe that someone like him could genuinely care for me because if that was true, well I was fucked. There was no going back, and it would be him and only ever him…

Still looking down at his hands in mine, I couldn't bear a look at him.

His voice broke the air, "Rae there's something I gotta tell ya…" He paused, letting out a deep breath. "I'm not good with words…" He said huskily, his voice cracking a bit at the end. Was he nervous? Why?

This time I slowly raised my gaze and saw him looking at me through the fringe of his dark eyelashes. As soon as our eyes met, he averted his and focused them on my hands. His were slightly unsure and for a second I could have sworn they were shaking.

Taking his finger, he traced out the letters that will be burned into my brain for eternity, and I'm not fucking exaggerating. "I—L-O-V-E—Y-O-U…." My hands trembled in his, and I realized that I never craved anything more in my life than the touch of his skin against mine. I closed my eyes and breathed in the moment. His hands left mine only to be replaced on each side of my face. His skin feathered against mine, so lightly, but the touch felt like fire and my skin burned against his. As I reopened my eyes, I found his eyes held mine now, and he was no longer hiding beneath the thick lashes tracing the delicate line of his eyes I so desperately loved. His thumb brushed my cheekbone, and I realized this was no longer any fantasy I had written in my journal. It was better, it lacked the dirtiness my teenager mind thought it craved, but rather replaced with the simple touches that tugged deeper inside me.

"I don't believe you." I said without thinking. It was an immediate reaction followed by absolute word vomit I wished I could take back. He smiled though, and shook his head.

"I don't care if you don't believe me." Now it was me who was smiling like the fucking little schoolgirl crush I had now embodied.

"Now what?" He said lower, his voice like velvet stroking the rich hues of the night sky, marking it with perfection.

Good question. I had absolutely no fucking idea. Before I could come up with an answer myself, he decided to answer it all on his own.

Suddenly he was right there. His lips brushed mine just slightly. I traced gently on his back, "I—B-E-L-I-E-V-E—Y-O-U." I felt him smile against my lips, and he pulled me closer so I could rest my chin on his shoulder. And that night, we were the lucky ones.