Written for a drabble-a-thon on LiveJournal. The idea is to say 'I love you.' without actually saying it. :)

Disclaimer: I only own the plot.

He would be there, waiting for her when she came out from school. He would pick her up in his car.

And when they got back to her home he would stay over until her mum came home from work, (though always begging her mum if he could stay longer) he would be ready to get her anything, to help her with homework, to play a game if she wanted; anything.

One day she came home, frustrated. She had failed a test, one of her friends had accidentally spilled orange juice on her white shirt, and she hadn't thought to bring a spare shirt. Everyone had teased her

And by the ring of the bell to announce that school was out - thank god - he was there, as always. Waiting for her.

She slammed the car door, still in a sulky mood. He sensed that immediately.

"What's wrong?" He asked, concerned.

"Nothing." She huffed.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Um... okay."

When they got home, after they had settled on the couch - she would never not do that, no matter how sulky she was - he asked her again. "Claire... are you sure you're okay? Did someone hurt you?"

She broke at how sweet he was being. But it came out wrong, somehow. "I'm fine! Geez, get off my case!"

And she rushed upstairs to her room.

It was about an hour before he came up, though she knew that it must have killed him not to, but he knew that she need her space.

He came in, and when she didn't move from her position on her bed, he immediately gathered her in his arms and stroked soothing movements on her back.

She couldn't help it. She started sobbing.

"Shh, it's okay. It's okay."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry." She blubbered.

"Ssh," He said. "Forget about it, we all have bad days sweetie."

"That's the problem! You're so... understanding, and kind and sweet and I'm so horrible and-"

"Claire," He said, cutting her off. "Never say that. Never doubt yourself. You're perfect. Okay?"

"Exactly!" She threw her hands up, which was hard to do with his arms around her. "Why?" She asks.

"Why what?" He asked, with an adorably confused expression on his face.

"Why me? Any girl would be lucky to have you. Why would you choose me? Horrible, insensitive me."

He doesn't say anything. He just smiles that smile she loves so much and kisses her softly.

And she knows.

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