A.N: Ok, I know you lot want the next (and possibly last) chapter of Summer. And I'm working on it. Honestly.

…Alright I have a little bit of writers block, so this is just to fill the void whilst I try to get Lily and James together (at the moment they're arguing and just being plain awkward) So here's another one-shot, in James' Pov. Quite short.Probably angsty. Hope you like it!


She doesn't love me.

That's it, plain and simple. She doesn't love me and never will. She's shown she detests me, and yet I keep on trying.

Why?

It's a lost cause. I tell myself that every time she turns me down, her eyes cold and her expression cruel. Her lips turn into a sneer and her voice sounds disgusted with the mere thought of me asking her that question.

I swear to myself I'll never do it again, never watch her when she's not looking, never doodle her name on spare pieces of parchment, never dream of her smile when I'm asleep.

But it's no use.

Just one look at her shimmering auburn hair and her eyes that sparkle like emeralds when she's happy, and I'm lost again. Her mouth, so used to going into that look of disgust that she sends in my direction, turns into a smile that lights up the entire room, making those with her feel happier by just being in her presence.

My friends tell me to give up and move on. They say that if she can't see that after seven years, I've changed, she doesn't deserve me. But they're wrong, I'm the one that doesn't deserve her.

After every rejection, I sit and think to myself why she does it, why she says no. I put it down to her knowing, without a doubt, that I am no good for her, and that she deserves something better. A thought that I know myself subconsciously, but I ask her anyway, a small glimmer of hope still flickering inside of me, hoping she'll say yes.

That hope is fading every time she says no, and so am I.

I pretend it doesn't bother me. I go around school as usual, masking my feelings with pranks and dates with as many girls as I can manage in a week. It's all a façade, that's not the real me.

Because deep inside I know she doesn't love me, and that is the thought that plays through my head when I doodle her name next to mine, the thought that repeats itself when I look at her, reminding me she's not mine. And when I dream of her, that is the thought that always comes back to haunt me when I wake up.

And that's the thought that's killing me inside.


A.N: Ok, that was my first shot at doing something that's angst, and I also wrote it at midnight last night when the idea suddenly popped into my head. Nevertheless, review! Hopefully it wasn't that bad…