"Honey why are you crying? Is everything okay?
I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud"
Amy stared at the ends of her fiery, red hair, contemplating if she should walk through the doors of the Chicago apartment.
Usually she was a tough chick, willing to say whatever was on her mind, whenever. But in this situation, that wouldn't be easy.
She was about to let her friend of twenty years know that she was deeply in love with him. She chuckled to herself, her hazel hues squinting from the sad humor of it all.
She wasn't into mush. She wasn't into hand holding, kissing, cuddling, yet she wanted to do every last thing with Phil. She wanted to watch his eyes as he woke from his sleep, she wanted to go out to the docks, build a tent by the river, and just fall asleep on his tattooed chest, watching the crystal-like stars.
She knew Phil was just like her, a rebel at heart who had no time for love, but heavy metal and Lucha Libre, which worried her that she'd just embarrass herself, ruining a lifelong friendship.
Just as she went to open the door, those familiar hazel eyes greeted hers. "Amy.. What are you doing here? It's pouring outside. I know you love rain, but you'll get sick out here. Please, come in."
Phil chuckled softly, studying the composure of his best friend, something seeming out of place with her.
"You good, Ames? Seems as though your mind is cluttered. I mean, you've been out in the pouring rain; you're not insulting me, punching me, nothing. Come on, I'm yours. Just let me know what I can do."
He hands her a wool throw, cringing from her shaking, for he has no clue why on earth she'd come over his house in stormy weather.
"Is it Adam, Amy? Did you two get into a fight?" Amy continued to sit in silence, trying to muster up exactly what she wanted to say.
"Amy, talk to me..."
With that last sentence dripping from his lips, Amy took her wet palms, holding the sides of his face as she pressed her soft lips against his.
Phil stared at her in bewilderment, wondering what had gotten into his best friend. "Amy, I know you're hurt by something, but we can't do this. Not now..."
He sighed softly, realizing that he had longed to feel her lips against his since he first laid eyes on her. Her one kiss said a million words, and it clicked inside of him on exactly why she had traveled miles in the rain to see him.
She was in love with him, and deep down inside for exactly twenty years, he had felt the same way.
He stared at his arm, riddled in tattoos, as his eyes landed on the tattoo of Amy and himself, them hugging at an indie rock event four years prior. He had gotten the tattoo out of sheer love for Amy, but he had never been honest about the caliber of love he felt for her.
As his hazel eyes landed back on hers, her hues full of soft tears, his hand absently straying through her beautiful red hair, he pressed his lips against hers, engaging in a kiss that seemed to last a lifetime.
As he pulled away, he noticed her soft smile, a symbol of her realizing he shared the same feelings she had always had for him.
He thumbed at her bottom lip, embarrassed that he had become so fluffy, so soft around her, but he absolutely loved it. "I feel the same exact way about you, Ames..."
"It's really good to hear your voice saying my name
It sounds so sweet
Coming from the lips of an angel
Hearing those words it makes me weak"