Originally posted in April 2012 under an old account I forgot existed.
Maybe.
Maybe he sensed that she was different the day she managed to score a basket from the other end of the whitewashed school hallway. Maybe he could see it in the way she moved and held herself; her new-found confidence seeping into her every syllable, every glace, every touch.
Maybe.
Maybe there was a reason he teased her, relentlessly, until she sighed in exasperation and suggested that he do something to himself that was inhumane and not at all possible. Maybe he just liked to see her agitated and annoyed. Confused, overwhelmed, defiant; they were all good looks for her. Or, perhaps, there was some sort of ulterior motive behind his actions he was not yet aware of.
Maybe.
Maybe he was spending a lot more time watching over her than was necessary. Is it wrong to want to protect her? The girl was a walking disaster, for crying out loud—getting herself into situations without thinking or bothering to posses the slightest concern for her own safety. It was taxing. Besides, it was his job to protect his family; her especially, given what she was. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he could not seem to get her out of his mind. Nothing at all.
Maybe.
Maybe there was something wrong with him. Alek Petrov never found himself nervous around a girl. Never. And he was certainly not the jealous type. Not toward someone who walked around with fabric cat ears on his head and brooded over his rich daddy in the local coffee shops. But the way she looked at that boy sometimes... It made him want to punch a wall. And then there were the moments when she would ditch lover-boy and it was just the two of them again, standing or crouching so close they were almost touching, and his palms would begin to sweat and his heart would race to the point where he was certain he was going to be ill. But in a good way. Perhaps he should see a doctor.
Maybe.
Maybe he was going insane. He wanted to touch her, stroke her cheek, run his fingers through her long, blonde hair, comfort her. Anything just to be near her. That wasn't normal, was it?
Maybe.
Maybe he was falling in love; a feeling so foreign and strange, he had no idea it was happening at first. But now he knows (and so does she, from the way he had practically thrown himself at her the other night. God, why couldn't he stop obsessing over whether or not he had remembered to brush his teeth beforehand?) He had never really thought it was possible for someone to feel this way about another person before; to want to be with them and no one else. Protect them, touch them, kiss them and spend the rest of their lives together. It was a strange feeling, but he liked it. He didn't even care that Brian still tried desperately to garner her attention, as long as she came back to him in the end. (Okay, maybe he cared a little.)
Maybe.
Maybe he should try to forget about her. She had chosen the human and it was time to move on, find another girl; one he wouldn't get so attached to. He didn't need her and, clearly, she did not need him. It was that simple. So then why did it feel like his heart was being ripped in two? What was he supposed to do, pine for her the rest of his life? Maybe he could train himself not to feel this way. Make himself fall out of love with Chloe King.
Maybe. But when he sees the two of them together like that, laughing and touching and being in love, the feelings inside of him begin to stir and he can't help but think:
Maybe not.
End. x