Author's Note: Well I warned you that this chapter would be short and it is. I just really thought it was a cute and important scene when Jason and Aria stared intensely at each other before the fashion show so I wanted to write it. I promise the next chapter will be up soon and it will be a little longer than this one. Pleeeeeeaaaaaaaaassssseeeee keep reviewing! (:
Disclaimer: I don't own Pretty Little Liars.
Walking into the fashion show, I tried to keep my mind from going there. To her. I was still mad for the little stunt she had pulled yesterday and I didn't really care to watch her looking gorgeous, strutting down a runway because I knew seeing her like that would make me want to forgive her. And I didn't want to forgive her.
She had really pissed me off with that whole interrogation scene. I couldn't believe she had the nerve to…even as I thought the words in my own head I knew I was lying to myself. Had what she done made me mad? Yeah, a little. But more than angry, I was hurt. Hurt that she didn't believe in me as much I thought she did. I thought that she would never think for one second that I killed Ali. I thought she would say that though I may have been a stoner and a jerk back then, I wasn't capable of murder. But she was looking for answers, trying to figure out if I actually had done it, so I guess I was wrong. And I knew I had overreacted, but I was hurt and she deserved to feel the same way. I was mad at her. I didn't want to forgive her. So why did I have to keep convincing myself otherwise?
My mom and I finally got backstage and all I saw was girls running everywhere, either trying to get ready themselves or trying to make sure someone else was ready. I had planned on looking straight forward the whole time and walking right to the stage where I would go out with my mother as she gave her speech. I didn't want to see her until I had to. But as I turned a corner and headed towards the stage, there she was.
She was just sitting there, getting ready at a table right in front of me. When she looked up and saw me, her eyes lit up and her lips moved like she wanted to say something. I didn't stop walking though, so she swallowed the words. I got to where my mother was waiting and tried to keep myself from looking back at her, but my eyes seemed to have a mind of their own. I turned towards her and found that she was looking at me too. Her eyes seemed to speak, saying she was sorry and asking forgiveness.
And it was then that I realized that I didn't really have a choice. She, with her kind chocolate eyes, warm smile, and caring heart made me feel more loved than any other person ever had. She was the girl that even the intense, brooding guy who didn't let anyone in would try for. She was worth forgiving.