Secondhand Girlfriend

.09

Laying in my bed, I watch as Lisanna moves about my room and fawns over everything in sight. Apparently, a teenage boy having stuffed animals is the cutest thing ever, and she loves how neat I am. Nothing is out of place in my room, I keep everything in order and don't let it get too messy. I don't have OCD, at least I don't think I do, everything just has to be the way I want it.

She is now going through the clothes in my closet, and every so often she would squeal at a particular piece. A small pile of shirts, jackets, and sweatpants has started to form on the floor behind her as she throws them out of the closet. Not thinking much of it, I just let her do it and smile when she hold up a shirt I forgot I had. It's this old Guns & Roses shirt that my mother gave me; she had gotten the shirt from the concert she had gone to.

"Can I have this," she squeals, hopping from one foot to the other.

"It's yours, you probably look better in it than I did anyway," I smile, and motion for her to come to me as I sit up on the bed.

She skips over the pile she created, and comes to stand between my legs. I grab her by her hips, pulling her closer so I can give her a kiss. Taking the shirt from her hand after, I help her put it on and I was right, she does look good in it. It hugs her bust snuggly while showing how small her waist is, but overall she just looks really cute in the shirt. I make her spin around to show me how it looks from the back, and I realise just how big her ass is. Wow, that sounded as worse as it could be, but I mean that in a good way.

"You look gorgeous," I say, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her onto my lap.

"Kie, why are you with me," she asks, surprising me slightly.

It's a question that I definitely was not ready for, and I wasn't sure I knew how to answer. Of course I knew the answer to it, but I'm not exactly the best when it comes to putting my feelings into words. Although, it seems like a great question to answer with "because I love you" it's a little to early to be exchanging those three words. So how could I tell her I love her without actually saying it?

The look on her face tells me she isn't liking my hesitance to speak, but I don't want to pull words out of my ass to answer her. I want my words to be genuine, not something to say to hold her over until I really think of something; it has to be right the first time.

"I know why I'm with you, but I can't really put it into the right words to tell you," I disclose truthfully.

"Then don't say the right words, tell me how you feel," Lisanna says, cupping my face in her hand and making me look her in the eyes.

I'm in love with you. That'a the first thing that comes to mind, but I can't bring myself to say it. How would she react to it, would she even be ready to tell me she loves me back? A heavy sign leaves my lips as I rest my head on her chest, and I wish we were together longer than a month.

"I'm with you, because when I first saw you smile, I couldn't help but think I had to have you," I say, the sound of her heartbeat ringing in my ear, "The way your eyes were alight with amusement, I wanted you to look at me that way. And now that I am a reason you smile, I never want to see you unhappy. You're so intelligent, witty, sassy, and beautiful, everything about you is perfect."

Her heartbeat has become faster as I continue talking, and her breaths are semi-rapid. I didn't know words could effect someone so heavily, but then again I learned first hand how words can be heart shattering.

"Whenever we're together, I don't think about anything else but you. And to say that it hurt to hear you talk about Maurice so fondly would be an understatement, it nearly broke me, and I thought that I could never measure up to what he's done for you. I still think that you--"