Simple Deal

Fourteen

Justin:

"I love you," she mumbled cutely, probably so tired she didn't even know what she was saying. It made me laugh. Well, I ended up laughing after chuckling, anyway. The longer I stared at her face in admiration, the harder it felt for me to clap the lights off.

I just wanted to stay here forever, watching her peaceful face that was in my sight, taking in every bit of sleep she could possibly get because she looked so. . . calm. Like she had no care in the world, nothing to worry about.

Not even her insecurities.

"I love you, too," I genuinely said after a moment, in a whisper, assuming that she had fallen asleep basing on the look on her face. 

I don't know why I whispered it out, but I did. Maybe it's because I didn't want her to know because it might freak her out? Or maybe because I didn't want to make her avoid me since she probably doesn't even have a clue that she had just absentmindedly told me she loves me. 

Or maybe it's because I just simply don't want her to know that I love her.

Isn't love a stupid thing? I chuckled humorlessly to myself as my thumb began rubbing tiny circles on Beth's upper waist, occasionally accidentally going across her bra strap, but meh, I don't mind. Obviously. 

The thing about love is that sometimes you don't know it's there, but you feel it.

You feel the warmth spreading across your limbs, around your body, everywhere. . . But sometimes you shrug it off thinking it's nothing, but really, that's love that you're feeling, as insanely stupid as it may sound.

Love is stupid. So stupid.

It comes and goes as and when it likes, not even being considerate enough to cut you some slack when you've fallen out of love. And after growing a fear of falling in love again, it comes right back to bite you in the ass, leaving you no choice but to face it.

And that's how I feel at the moment.

It feels like I've fallen out of love a billion times with Selena because every time we have a disagreement, it would become a misunderstanding that leads to bickering, and neverending arguments. And whenever we do have a feud. . . it's brutal.

And when I say brutal, I mean brutal, whether it's verbally or physically.

But I'm done.

We're over.

It's over.

Everything's over now.

I have no more excuses left to see if I could find my way back to her. I don't even have the time to bother about that anymore. What's left are the music journals that were written like, what, four or five months ago? Back when I was still head over heels in love with her. . .