They met at a club.
She asked him to dance.
Because she knew he never would.
And he said yes, because he knew he should.
They
s
w
a
y
e
d
to the music, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization.
She said he was a good dancer.
And he said, no I'm not.
Not really.
I think it's you,
he said.
I think it's
y
o
u.
She laughed, but not because
She was amused.
She decided she was bored with him
And moved to pull
a w a y.
Did I do something wrong? He called, sounding
Confused.
Worried.
Honest.
Hurt.
She stopped and said,
You think I've never heard that line before?
I just wanted to dance.
I'm not in the mood
To
Get
Picked
Up
Or
To
Hook
Up
Or
Whatever
The
FECK
You
Want
To
Call
It.
He frowned.
Did she not understand?
I'm sorry
He said
I was just trying to say
He explained
That you make me a good dancer.
There was no other
He promised
Implication.
She did not end up leaving him that night.
Or the night after that.
Nor in the many weeks that
followed.
Then,
Quite suddenly
Or maybe so s...l...o...w...l...y
They didn't even notice,
They fell in love
Even though:
She was Isabelle.
She was volatile.
She was passionate.
But she
was
withdrawn.
And:
He was Simon.
He was introverted.
He was self-depreciating.
But he wore his heart on
his
sleeve.
It didn't matter, because she loved his:
awkwardness
And his humour
And his o p e n n e s s.
And it didn't matter because he loved her:
wild nature
And her spirit
And her secrets.
Isabelle loved Simon
Because he was the boy who
hadn't just wanted
To
Pick
Her
Up
Or
To
Hook
Up
Or
Whatever
The
FECK
You
Want
To
Call
It.
And
Simon loved Isabelle
Because
She was Isabelle.
And nobody could
E
V
E
R
Change that.
There you go, JaceLover4eva, I hope you liked your one-shot! :)
The next update for Not If You Paid Me will be up within the next few days. For now, I hope you like this :)
Review!
Blue.