A/N: So, by popular demand, I guess I'll be making this a two-shot. Or a full on story? You guys decide in the reviews, I guess.
You've been lying still and allowing her to shift the ways she's entangled with you for hours. The sun has risen and light, warm pastels are painted in streaks she would sigh over. It's beautiful, just like her, but you don't care for it. Her hands are back in yours and her body is pressed against yours and your heart is hurting from how close you are but how far she is.
You let a wistful sigh out of two, gently parted lips. She's smiling in her sleep again. You want to believe she might be dreaming of you but you know she's dreaming of that hick, Lucas.
That golf ball rises in your throat with bile and butterflies alike squirming their way up.
She nuzzles her head into you, sighing softly. You can't breathe. There is no air, their is only you and Riley, just lying on your bed in the awakening city.
You think you like the world better this way. Just you and her. Like she asked you for all that time ago, sitting against the cold, lifeless lockers.
Your alarm clock ruins it like you ruin everything.
It's not the usual hardened beeping that you groan at though, you made it special today, just for her. It's the chorus of a song that makes her smile and laugh and dance in ways that all but force you to do the same.
She giggles slightly, the sound muffled by your hair. You can feel the vibrations of her humming the song as she dragoons her eyes open, rubbing at them, groggily.
"Morning, Maya," she murmurs, sitting up. Your heart sinks at the cold that embraces you.
"Good morning, Riles," you yawn at her, feigning like the alarm awoke you too.
"Do you wanna run to that one doughnut place for breakfast?" She asks you, stretching her limbs.
"The one with the crazy hobo in front of it?" You say, cracking your neck.
"Yeah, that one," she nods, happily. Her hair needs to be brushed out, she's wearing pajamas, she hasn't brushed her teeth yet, and she isn't even wearing lip gloss but you've never seen someone more stunning than in that moment she smiles at you. You remind yourself that she's straight and she's just asking you if you want to go get doughnuts but the longing lingers.
"Let's get dressed and less gross first," you laugh a little at her enthusiasm.
"Okay!" She grins, rushing to your bathroom and grabbing a loose dress, leggings, and a jacket of yours. You figure the jacket smells like her favorite perfume by now and that stings a little because you know she wants to wear a jacket that smells like his cologne.
You follow after her, not bothering to grab a change of clothes yet.
When you arrive, she's furiously brushing her teeth in the cutest way. You stop to laugh at her for a bit, even though she makes your heart yearn for her just standing there. Why does she have to make the stupidest things so cute? You wonder, still smiling at her.
She beckons for you to come to her and brush your teeth with her. You just can't say no to those eyes.
You get to the doughnut shop in a giggling mess, with arms wrapped around each other. She's addicting and you're getting high off her voice without realizing it.
This isn't right. She has feelings for Lucas, you need to stop this.
But your conscious or whatever is drowned out by the gravitational pull that is Riley Matthews. Her smile burns brighter than the sun itself (which is still hanging over them with the pretty pastels) and you just want to kiss those lips forever.
You know it's delusional. You know it will never happen. You know that she's straight.
But a girl can dream. And dream you will.
"Me, oh, Maya, we should go skiing this year," she giggles, your dream crumbling with her voice. You realize she's drooling over the powdered doughnuts and that's the only reason she's talking about skiing and calling you "Me, oh, Maya." She hates skiing after what happened last time.
"Uhuh," you tell her, rolling your eyes, playfully. "We'll take two powdered doughnuts and two of the pink sprinkled ones. Oh, and two sodas—medium," you order, smiling softly at your best friend's insanity. "On me," you add.
"Maya, you don't have to—" she interjects, but you cut her off with your eyes. She nods, understanding.
You do have to.
You owe her for feeling this way, for getting in the way of her and Lucas, for hating him just because she likes him. But all she gets out of your eyes is that you're best friends and this is what best friends do.
The cashier looks at you and her funny as he counts out your change. You're not sure what to call that look but Riley is off to get you both fountain sodas as soon as he hands her the cups.
"You two are a cute couple," he compliments, smiling at you.
You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and you aren't sure what to say to that—should you correct him? It takes you a second to register that you said, "thanks" and took your doughnuts before rushing off to a table.
Is that your heart beating against your throat?
Probably.
She smiles widely, maneuvering to you and balancing the sodas. You can't help but think of an angel without her halo. A princess without her crown.
"Hurry up, Riley," you bark at her, teasingly.
"I'm coming," she whines, her pace quickening. She has the cutest pout replacing her smile now and it makes your world halt for a second. The same way Lucas makes hers stop.
That aching is back in your heart as you bite into a powdered doughnut. Oh, how you wish she was yours.
reviews are love. give maya some.