This story is my original idea. It came from my memories with the man I love. These are actual conversations we had on the phone. If you'd like to use them, please ask me first. By the way...this is my first story, so tell me what ya think
He saw her when she started crying near the end of class. Watched as each tear rolled down her pastel cheeks. He knew why she was crying. He was the only one who knew why. Or so he thought.
The people in the classroom tried to console her, asking her what was wrong. She wouldn't tell them. She didn't know them well enough to tell them. So she sat on that desk, her blue-grey eyes producing even more tears.
He had no idea what was happening. He knew she was in pain, but he didn't know why his body was moving towards her. After all, their friendship was a secret. He was going to blow his cover if he let people know that he cared for someone. But, his body kept moving.
She felt someone awkwardly wrap an arm around her. When her tear-stained eyes looked up, she pushed herself into the strange embrace. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she sobbed against his chest, not aware of the classmate's curious stares.
"I'll take her to the office." His deep voice was directed towards the teacher, who nodded her approval. He picked her up and carried her outside into the hallway. As he set her down on a bench, he sat next to her. "You need to stop worrying about your brother being in the hospital."
"That's not…not what I was crying about this time." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Then what was it?" He stared into those blue-grey eyes wondering what else could possibly be wrong.
"I…I…" Her voice trailed off as she looked into his eyes trying to decide if she wanted to reveal herself or not. She brought her hands up and wrapped them slowly around his neck. Then, she pressed herself up to his height and kissed him. As she realized what she was doing, she stood up and ran, her dirty flaxen tresses trailing behind her.
He got what she was trying to say. She loved him. Plain and simple. He sat on the bench wondering why in the world someone like her would do that. He realized she was sensitive, romantic, and a bit aggressive at times. And he was the opposite. Always calm, indifferent, and prosaic. So he didn't go after her. Instead he went back to the classroom with the composed look on his face.
He'd been avoiding her since that happened. Not answering her calls, not talking to her, not anything that involved her. He was trying to figure his emotions out and he didn't want her to get in the way.
A month passed and he still hadn't decided what he was going to do yet. He knew that he felt something for her, but he wouldn't tell anyone that. He didn't want feelings for her. He didn't want feelings for anyone. He just wasn't that type of person.
He stood in the narrow hallway, lost in thought. Nobody was there. School had been out for a while now and he had stayed after for reasons he didn't even know.
She came running towards him. "Why are you ignoring me? Why won't you talk to me anymore? You said you didn't hate me! You're acting like you do right now!" She yelled at him. She continued asking the same two questions repetitively.
After about the sixth time, he got sick of hearing her in that state. So broken sounding. He did the only thing that came to his mind. He shoved her against the wall, his hands holding her shoulders tightly, and crashed his lips against hers; holding her in place as he did so.
She stood there and let him kiss her. She had been waiting for this day for over three years now and she wasn't about to pass it up. He started to pull away, but she wouldn't let him. She broke out of his grip and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing his lips down on her own again.
His dark brown eyes widened in shock. He had thought she would reject him, for he had treated her harshly quite a few times. But here she was, kissing him with passion and desire seeping out of her soul.
Passion and desire. The two words brought up a memory he had.
"What color is lust?" Her innocent voice was heard over the phone line.
"It's red." It was quiet for a minute.
"No, it's not. It's purple." Her voice argued back.
"Why would you say it was purple? Lust is red because of passion." His voice came out slow, trying to voice his words carefully.
"Lust is purple because of desire. But I understand why it could be red too." He could almost see her smiling. "You know, I've come upon an arrangement. Lust is going to be red-violet because lust is both passion and desire."
"Hmm..." He already knew that only a few people in the world thought it would be purple. In fact, she tallied up fifteen people that said it was red and three that said it was purple.
"Hey, what are cherries?" Her voice was curious.
"You don't want to know." He mumbled into the phone line.
"Please tell me, they're my favorite fruit after all." He gave into her begging.
"Well, there is a sexual term for them…" His voice trailed off as she began to talk again.
"I shouldn't have asked that! I should have known that was coming! GAH!" She started to get obsessed about how she asked the wrong question.
He pulled his lips away from hers to gain the air that he had lost. He was feeling lust right now. And she had been right. It was red-violet. It was the conciliation she had made for them. Because they were both right. She was just more quixotic about it was all. He saw the colors of purple and red radiating off of her soul.
He let his lips crashed upon hers again, letting all the emotions he had pent up out. Letting her into the one place he thought she would never get to. She had melted his heart.
He truly did love her. She was the only one who had stayed by his side, persistent to have any kind of relationship with him. That made another memory fly through his head.
"I'm not your best friend?" His voice sounded offended over the phone.
"Well, you have to be there when I'm in distress." Her voice sounded strangely soft on the line.
"But you call me all the time when you're like that." His voice replied.
"Well, I have to cry on you. I've cried on all of my best friends. So I guess you're halfway there." She smiled clandestinely to herself
"Which part the B or the est?" He questioned her.
"Huh?" She sounded a bit confused.
"Of best. Which half is it?" He surreptitiously smiled although she didn't know it at the time.
"The B, I guess..." It was silent for a moment. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"I don't know, which is it?" He started to tease her in a way that only she would understand.
"Good. I think." She giggled apprehensively.
He continued to kiss her as another memory invaded his mind.
"I called because I was bored. And I'm cold. I went for a walk and it was cold." Her voice was hoarse on the phone.
"Oh." Was the straightforward reply she got from him.
"Sometimes my friend's call you names, but I think that they do it because it pisses me off." Her voice sounded indisputably sorry.
"Goodbye." His voice didn't sound like him.
"Why are you going?" Hers now sounded hurt and wounded.
"I don't feel like talking anymore." He waited for the response he knew he was going to obtain.
"Call me later, ok?" She spoke out of contentment.
"No." A word he was used to giving her, but she never let "no" bother her.
"Yes." She started to sound a bit heated. "You will call me."
"Which one of the three phone numbers do I call?" He could see the stunned look on her face that he even remembered how many she had given him in his yearbook the previous year.
"I don't know, I'll call you. Bye." She sounded happy again, and, for some reason, he was glad.
He pulled away for breath as he stared into her blue-grey eyes, bringing yet another memory to his mind.
"Do you hate me?" Her voice sounded broken, like she had been crying.
"What do you want me to answer?" He questioned her, wondering if she was going to make him say anything.
"An honest answer, the truth." Her reply was indisputable.
"NO." He knew he had raised his voice a little and sounded extraordinarily austere, but he needed her to stop asking this question. It disturbed him. It made it seem like she didn't believe him and he needed to make her believe him.
'This is it.' He thought as he lowered his lips to hers again. 'She waited three years for me and here I am.'
Thanks for reading this. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it