𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥

𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦

𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘺

It's Friday, 8:00 pm. Currently I'm in my room sitting on my comfy bed. You know during the summer there really isn't much to talk about. I actually have full proof of that, but this summer I've just been writing about Brandon.

Back when we didn't get along and all that I had to say about Brandon is that he's an asshole who treats me terribly. He was never attractive to me, the only thing that I liked about that man was his eyes. His crystal sky blue eyes that always drove me nuts.

Now as a full adult I see him differently. He's not like before and I know I say this many times, like a lot, but last week was probably the most eventful week of my life.

We went to the fair, Brandon invited me to the fair and in the beginning I actually dreaded it. I hated it so much, that I wanted to go home. I know it was stupid of me to almost start crying because a girl looked prettier then me, but this insecurity goes way back to when I was 9.

It all started when Brandon called me ugly, after that day I continued to look at myself like that. I always took his words personal. Then at school, I was pranked and shoved around so many times that no one saw me as the pretty girl, in fact they would actually tell me to my face that I wasn't pretty.

That continued all of high school, everyone saw me as Mason's ugly little sister, just because I had braces, really bad acne and terrible style, my attitude wouldn't help either sometimes. I tried being the pretty girl at school but it just never worked out for me.

That all went away in college though. I built up some confidence, figured out what looked good on me, had good teeth good skincare. I was finally a bit prettier then before. I was fine with what I looked like, plus everyone in town is average looking so I really didn't have anyone to look up to....well until Allie came to town.

Allie is Mason's new girl. She's drop dead gorgeous, I swear if you put a Barbie next to that girl you won't be able to tell the difference. It doesn't help that she's the biggest sweetheart in Texas so of course I was intimidated. My self esteem went way down, I hated being there. I looked horrible.

Well I thought I did for the first few hours of us being there, then Brandon talked to me. That boy sure knows his way around a girls mind. He kept going on and on about how beautiful I was to him and how being me is the best thing a person could ask for. It was then when my night turned from being the worst to the best. Brandon made me laugh and have so much fun that night.

It was later though when we had a moment. In my room we held each others hands and stared at each other. I don't think I'll ever forget about what he said. He went on his knees holding my hands tightly and got close to my ear placing a soft kiss and saying "I really wasn't lying when I said you're beautiful Tiffany" i think my heart was running laps because it kept beating so fast. He gives me butterflies and makes me feel all sort of feelings that I can't even begin to explain.

Sometimes I think to myself how can he do that? He has some sort of super power that makes me like this and I don't understand why? He makes me smile and make me want to spend more time with him.

I think about him so much that I began to dream about him. Yeah I know it's getting really bad. He's invading my dreams now. It all felt so real too, it was a sex dream. Ever since that dream I act weird around him. I can't talk with out thinking about his lips on me, or his hand on my body or his words in my ear.

I even caught myself staring at him, I made out every little detail on his face. Like the little crinkle in the sides of his eyes when he smiles or laughs, or how his jawline is so sharp that it might as well cut cheese. And his body, lord his body. He's way taller then me practically breaking his neck to look at me and me breaking mine to look at him. His shoulders are broad and his buffed muscles are so strong that you can see the vain pop out sometimes. I can only imagine what he keeps under those tight shirts he wears.