Don't You Dare

Frozen In Time

David's POV
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We stay like that for the rest of me movie. I stroke her hair to calm her down, and she lays her head on my chest, breathing slowly. Occasionally she runs her hand over my chest, and right now I live for that moment.

The movie ends, but neither of us move. We lie there, in each other's company, silent. I long to kiss her troubles away, and keep them away. Seeing her cry hurts so much. She has my whole heart in her hands, and I'm not taking it back anytime soon.

I love her. I. Love. Her.

The realization tumbles around and around in my head, my heart, my body. My love for her resonates so strongly that I'm shocked she can't tell.

I love my best friend. I love Sasha Marie Till. Oh my god... I love her. Should I tell her? Should I let her figure it out? Should I never let her know?

You know what? I'm going to go with whatever happens. If it turns out that she doesn't like me, then I'll leave everything the way it is. If she does like me for some strange reason, then we'll live happily ever after. The end.
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Sasha's POV
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I suck. Big time. I'm making it super obvious that I like him, right after promising myself that I wouldn't ever let him know.

But I can't help it. I really can't. It feels like there's a magnet pulling me closer, closer, and never faltering in its strength. I'm drawn to him, and I can't get away.

We're lying there, on the couch, just like we've been doing for almost two hours. He's holding me in his safe, strong arms, and I'm trying to stop my hands, which seem to have a mind of their own. I'm able to stop them from doing anything I would desperately regret later, but I'm not able to stop them from tracing his chest, over, and over, and over again. It's taking all my willpower to keep myself from making a move, and I'm mentally drained.

I know that if I don't get up right now, I'm going to kiss him, and then do a whole lot worse than that.

So I pull myself away from David, and ask him where the bathroom is.

"It's down the hallway, second door on the right." he answers, pointing behind him.

"'Kay, thanks David."

"Anytime."

I manage to walk calmly and collectively to the bathroom, despite my urge to dart out of there as fast as possible. I quietly close the door behind me, and stare at the girl in the mirror.

My hair is matted to the side because it was smushed between my head and David's chest, and mascara is running down my face from crying. My eyes are clouded with love mixed with lust, and I conclude that I look like a cavewoman. My shirt is wrinkled, my pants are twisted (I pause my examination for a second to fix this), and my right boob has decided to peak out under my bra. I'm a mess!

I quickly try to fix myself up as much as possible, washing the mascara off with water and combing my hair with my fingers, but there's nothing to do about my shirt. Oh well. It could be worse.

I use the toilet and wash my hands before leaving my temporary safe haven and heading back into the unknown and uncharted.

"Sasha!"

"Hi, David."

"What took so long?"

"I just had to fix myself up," I laugh. "Someone seems impatient, though!"

"That would be no one," David states, grinning and blushing.

"Sure, David. We'll say that." I respond, giggling at his adorableness, if that's even a word. I'm falling hard, I realize suddenly. I wonder what would happen if I... NO. I will not, in any way, confess my love for this sweet, hot, funny, annoying (in a good way), amazing guy. I refuse to.