Arthur Kirkland and I were very close friends. We met in preschool and befriended each other easily. Ever since then, we did practically everything together: we played sports, made crafts, told stories, threw pranks. And one day specifically, we grew our own garden.

Well, I mean, we tried at least. It didn't turn out the way we pictured, but we were only kids. Flowers were planted randomly and unevenly spaced, mud was splattered everywhere, and half of the grass was dead. We grew it close to a cemetary because neither of our families wanted us to mess with their gardens. We didn't care. Besides, we even had the whole place to ourselves; we could do whatever we wanted there!

When winter came, we hopped around in the snow and made snowmen. Spring would appear, and we watched all of the beautiful flowers bloom again. When summer arrived, we'd bathe in the sun and smell the luscious green grass. Autumn would present us with beautiful shades of yellow, orange, and red, and Arthur and I would gather up all of the leaves in a pile and jump in them.

And every single day, we would walk around our garden and either tidy it up or just admire our work if it was already shipshape. That garden became our life, our hobby, our inspiration.

It took me a while to realise that the bond between Arthur and me was growing and becoming something totally different that I hadn't known about. When that time did come for me to notice it, I naturally didn't acknowledge it at first. Arthur was my best friend and nothing more. I wanted to accept that because of all of my other friends I was making in school and how they merely just chatted and hung out on the weekends.

I couldn't accept it, though. I experimented a little by trying to look at other girls who seemed pretty enough in my classes. I tried flirting with them, hanging around them, and thinking about going out them. It didn't feel totally comfortable, however. I told myself that I was just too young to do stuff with girls and that I simply had to wait.

But whenever I lied next to Arthur in our garden, I couldn't help admiring his features and thinking what it would be like to kiss him. We've held hands a couple of times, but I didn't think he felt what I felt when our skin made contact like that. I had butterflies in my stomach and my hand tingled where he touched. I wanted to tell him, but I was too afraid that he'd say that he didn't feel the same way. So I kept it a secret.

Until one cold day in autumn...

A/N: I apologise for not working on "Until the Day I Die." I've been super busy with marching band, and then school started a little later, so now I have almost no time to work on it.

"But if you had time to write this thing, you could have written more of that story-"

I know, I know! But inspiration just hit me, and I needed to at least get this first part down (so if there are any mistakes, please excuse them until I get the time to revise them).

The quote I used for the summary was based off of a sign that I saw next to someone's house in front of their backyard fence, and of course I thought of Britannia Angel. Then a whole story plot started forming in my head, and I just started typing in my phone because it was the only thing I had on me at the time. And I wrote most of it during class, so sorry if it seems a little choppy or whatever.

Anyway (sorry for ranting), I hope you readers will enjoy this story because I know that I already enjoy writing this! C: