Haven • H.S.

7. She Initiates Contact

Haven- 07

"...my broken veins say that if my heart stops beating we'll bleed the same way, oh my broken veins say..."

Harry.

With a brutal coming of age, I realized I just couldn't continue to hold myself back anymore from kissing Ella (which is pathetic really, considering how short the amount of time I've known her is), and I'm still trying to fucking decide if I've just ruined my chances. Such an immature way to watch her go, to watch her possibly detach herself from me (which I was no where near ready for) and I just nailed it. She didn't say anything afterwards and I was so overwrought with the possibility of her thinking this was all going too fast for her liking. Maybe she kissed back out of common decency, maybe she felt like it'd embarrass me, damage my feelings if she didn't. God, if that wasn't a dagger through the gut, I didn't know what was.

But her lips. The sweetness of the cotton candy I'd gotten her at the game still resonated on them, making them positively irresistible, removing any and all gentleman-like thought I had been so adamant on keeping.

I can't help but rack my memory of every kiss I've had with a girl since I was fifteen-- a dumb-ass sophomore in high school who thought the world (every other sophomore girl) was in the palm of my hands-- trying to think of a time where I felt what I felt with Ella. It wasn't a surprise I had come up empty. The terrifyingly excited part of me still didn't know what any of this is that I'm feeling, but found that it didn't particularly care. I didn't recognize myself when I was around her, in the same room next to her, holding her. It's this sense of every cell in my body suddenly feeling foreign, out of its normal territory when she's in the same room as me. If I was honest, I didn't have control over any of it.

The first day she came here she managed to see the person I hate being; drunk and weak. In other words, the person she shouldn't have to deal with. But you're too selfish to let her slip away, my inner back-seat driver reminded me. He was right.

She hasn't realized yet just how much she's affected in the mere week of her being here. Or maybe she does realize it, and she's ignoring it just like I tried uselessly to do.

My love life has been reduced down into a rollercoaster. You know that once you're on the ride and you're climbing to the top it only gets better from there; it's all fun from that point out. It's when the feeling of being free happens, it's where the laughs and the screams happen. It's this emotion that is currently gripping me like a fist.

I'm not ready to get off the ride any time soon.

With girls before Ella (and God, I hated calling them that because I didn't want there to be girls before Ella) I always found myself craving this-- this body in my arms. I was never, despite speculation from acquaintances, afraid of commitment. I wasn't one of those easy to predict versions of 'the player', despite the fact that I was a player, and in the back of my mind I've always wanted something in a girl that Ella has. That Ella is.

I'll be the first person to admit my former life, my regrets, my shame that came with the piss-poor decisions I had made, but I found a certain protectiveness over never wanting Ella to have to deal with the aftermath.

I knew in this moment, right now, that this just may be the calm before the storm.

Taking my time to memorize her sleepy state, I caught sight of her legs pulled up to her chest while she leaned her head awkwardly (or maybe it was comfortable for her?) onto my chest, with her arms held tight around my middle. She hadn't woken yet, and the movie was over now. Maybe I should wake her? No. Even I know, if I try I'll loathe myself for bothering her. For taking away the time I have just to watch her without worrying if she'll catch me.