This Love ✔️

This Awakening

"I need some air," I pant, practically running from Lucas's bedroom.

Adjusting my shirt and hopping down the stairs can be more of a hazard than I would've thought. That's why I nearly fall on my face by the time I get to the bottom of the stairs but quickly recover in hopes neither Favero brother will see me.

I jog through the house, desperately looking for the back door that will lead me to fresh air. Being around Lucas... well I'll be honest. I've been dreaming about Lucas, in all sorts of ways, for years now, and he seems to want to make all of those dreams a reality but... something changed.

"Did your little boy toy scare you off?"

I can't even pretend to be surprised at the sound of his voice, not when there seems to be an invisible rope pulling us together at all times. I'm sure if I was taking a trip in the arctic he would still manage to run into me.

"No," I lie. I sit down on the stairs of the porch, leading into the backyard of the Favero's. A sitting area, a barbeque, a fire pit, a pool, and tiki torches all make up the space. My Mom would definitely be jealous of this back yard if she ever saw it.

"Then why are you out here?" Bash decides to stay in his spot at the chairs lining the pool. I wish he wouldn't.

I bite my lip. "I think I'm getting sick."

He raises a perfectly arched eye brow. "That explains nothing."

"I need fresh air, I can't breathe."

For a moment he looks concerned, then, as usual, his face turns to stone and he turns his face to the sky to minimize any more eye contact, as if if I look into his eyes I will know exactly what he's thinking. But do I?

"Got allergies or something," he asks lazily.

"No."

Silence ensues and I take the time to enjoy it. While Bash is busy rifling through his pockets I look over him. I try my best to take into memory every part of him, in fear of that I'll never get the chance again.

This is my last time, I swear. Just one more observation, one more indulgence, than I can rid myself of Bash Favero forever.

I don't know how long I take to just look at him but when I stop it's because of Bash's voice.

"Sorry," I breathe, "what?" My eyes then zero in on a thin stick in between his fingers, shock and confusion running through my mind.

"Mind if I smoke?"

Did he scoot closer to me?

"Mind if I die," I shoot back.

His brows raise in surprise before he lets out a soft chuckle. "Somebody is feisty."

He lights the bud with a lighter, and brings the cancer stick to his lips.

"You didn't tell me you smoked," I accuse, starting to feel the anger and hurt of another lie of his told to me.

"That because I didn't," he says simply.

"So this is a new habit of yours? You really expect me to believe that? What else did you lie about Bash?"

His blue eyes turn to ice as they stare me down, his burning cigarette sending smoke through the air. "I didn't lie to you about smoking. Its bad habit yes but I just now picked it up again."

"Again?"

He rolls his eyes at me, his patience obviously waning. Good.

"I've done almost every street drug accessible by the age of fifteen Blondie, did you really think I've never smoked a cigarette before?"