You stand outside on his doorstep in what is an unusually chilly night in Los Angeles, just standing there looking like a lost puppy with a need for a home. You are not really sure if you want to knock on the door and see that face or if you should just go to a motel like all the other nights because you don't know if this is really worth the trouble. You know that he will be irritated at being woken from his slumber at such an hour in the morning as he rarely gets sleep anymore but there is just something you have to tell him and you know if you don't say it now, you might never have the courage to attempt this endeavor again.
You rap your knuckles against the hard wood frame and wait patiently for him to answer. If he even does answer because you are still torn on whether or not you really do want him to answer and you silently pray to the divine above that maybe he will just sleep through the racket. If he leaves you hanging here with the words not able to tumble off your tongue, you will go find someplace to stay for the night as is your custom and you will simply greet him in the morning with a steamy cup of black coffee and a cheeky smile like you always do.
You want to tell him so badly because at this point it has become a weight resting heavily upon your shoulders, a weight that certainly did not become alleviated that day when the man you were chasing after decided to send a few bullets flying in your direction and they decided to become lodged in your body. You remember the pain you felt when the blood began to pour out of your body and paint the pavement a crimson stain but more importantly you can recall the way your name was the first word out of his mouth in a panic lilted tone and the way he appeared like lightning at your side, cradling you in his arms, begging and pleading for you to stay with him as his eyes danced with the fear you hoped you would never be the cause of.
You know that an experience like that is one to take knowledge from and you know that means you need to take what has shaken you to your core, even though you would never admit that it has been playing repeatedly in your head since that day, and you need to confront the impossible challenge head on. Your specialty is laying your life on the line for a cause you believe in and you think that this matter of the heart falls within that category. You understand that maybe this time you might not get your way but you figure the only things in life that are worthwhile are the ones you grab by the hands yourself.
You can still make a run for it now and leave him thinking that some neighbor kid wanted to play ding dong ditch. You have the luxury of time, at least for a few more moments, before he probably swings open the door but you tell yourself to keep your feet firmly planted right where they are because you want the satisfaction of saying you had the guts to stay, if that is the only thing you take away from this.
You cannot resist the way your heart beats a million times faster than it ever has before, the way your stomach seems to be twisting into knots with each passing second, the way your palms are perspiring as you slide them across your jeans and the way your breath is coming in more shallow puffs now. You realize this is the way he makes you feel on a daily basis and you just never noticed before this moment. You discover that this is probably what being in love feels like and it scares you beyond belief.
You try planning out a way to get your message across without looking like a damn fool but you know that you have no idea what you will say or what you will do. You know the only thing that has ever been clear to you is that you love him, that you want him, that you need him.
You inhale sharply and dig your hands deeper into your pockets when he reveals himself to you. You witness him glare at you for the unappreciated interruption and your smile falters as the beginning of your confession lumps in your throat. You stare blankly at his form as you attempt to find a coherent sentence and he observes you like he is trained to do so well.
You suddenly determine that you may never find the right words for the occasion and that the only logical solution is to show him how you really feel. You have been told numerous times in your life that actions speak louder than words and you are so damn glad you listened to whoever gave you that little piece of wisdom.
You take a tentative step toward him and he pulls back slightly, not entirely sure what else to do. You let out a heavy sigh and he widens his brown eyes in surprise when you press your body against his without a caveat. Your close contact is driving you insane but you want more and you grab a fistful of his shirt, holding onto him like you never want to let go and close the gap between you and him, brushing your lips against his as if you were silently asking his permission. You feel his body stiffen against yours immediately but then he relaxes into you, melding his mouth over yours perfectly and he grips your bicep as if he never wants to let go. You cannot contain the upper curl of your lip against his and he returns your kiss with equal fervor, a content sigh escaping his lips when he rakes his fingers through the short, buzzed hair at your nape.
You are immensely grateful he answered the door after all.