Disclaimer: Once upon a time, in a land far, far away from here, there was a magical kingdom, where no idiots were allowed, and no "disclaimers" were needed. The End.

~Chapter 4~

Gordo finally came in off the balcony. The cool night air had helped him thing. About? Everything. Mainly, him and Lizzie.

How did he feel about her? She was definitely his best friend – check that, best, best friend – and his most trusted friend, at that. But, if that was true, how come he had never confided in her about the….feelings he had for her?

Because she might reject him?

Because she might not like him back?

Because their entire friendship might crumble into piece at his feet (along with the shards of his shattered heart)?

D. All of the above.

He knew he loved her. That was sure. He had known for a while that he loved her. If not as a girlfriend than as a friend, a sister.

Ah. That. He had been over that before. Would it be weird, awkward, if he fell in love with his sister?

Yes, but for as long as he had known Lizzie, there had been something in the way he saw her that was more than sibling love. It was the same connected feeling, but with a fierce passion, which he was sure he could never feel for someone with his blood.

He knew he would never have to breathe deeply to calm himself, or keep his voice and eyes in check when a close relative came hear of flipped her hair at him.

And would he really have to keep from passing out when kissed by someone so close to him, from the sheer giddiness that washed over him like a tidal wave?

Mm. This again. What had that kiss meant to him? To her? To their relationship? Why always, always, all this analyzing? He always analyzed things half-to-death, and where did it get him? Nowhere. Nowhere with Lizzie, nowhere with his thoughts…Ugh, nowhere but a headache.

Gordo took an advil and returned to standing before the bed – the single bed that he and Lizzie would share. She had taken the left side, pulling back the right corner of the covers for him.

The moon shone in from the huge French doors (funny, being that they're in Italy. Maybe they're Italian doors?) and danced along the fine strands of her hair, her skin shone like porcelain. His hands were sweating.

Get a hold of yourself, Gordo. This is Lizzie. Sure, you've convinced yourself that you love her as more than the best friend she is to you, but can't you put that aside for one night and sleep next to her?

No. But I'll try.

He took a deep, steadying breath, shook his head in attempts to clear his mind (didn't help), and then slipped between the covers.

The moonlight played in his eyes. He screwed them tight shut against it. He flopped over, but knew at once that he could not sleep this way, either. How could he possible rest when the love of his life was dozing, angelically, inches from his eyes?

As he continued shifting and turning, one though calmed him: Tomorrow they would travel the 14-hour flight back to America (but how many with time difference? Shut up, shut up, go to sleep), and sometime during that flight, there was the chance that they'd fall asleep, and there was the chance that, being that they were sitting right next to each other, Lizzie's head would end up resting against his again, as, in his mind, it was meant to be.

Bethany's Note: I know, I know, that was kind of confusing…okay, a lot confusing, but, yeah, so basically Gordo knows he loves Lizzie, but he doesn't know how she feels and he's bitter (sort of) because Lizzie hasn't mentioned their kiss yet. Yup, that' s where I leave you. BUT…good news! I'm starting a new short story, like…right now. I wrote it last night. It's called "Hanging By A Moment" (which is the title of a really great song, check it out. It's by Lifehouse.)

Well, that's all for now. As always,

                        ~Bethany*Katherine~