𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐰𝐨

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Sighing, I looked at the small stack of papers that was sprawled on my desk

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Sighing, I looked at the small stack of papers that was sprawled on my desk. I've been absentmindedly staring at the pages for what felt like hours just thinking about the boy -I mean, man- who was constantly running through my head.

Billy had managed to not only invade my life, but also my mind. Any time I was alone i would always be thinking of him or if I was talking to someone I would hear what they were saying, but my thoughts would be somewhere else, wondering what Billy was doing.

I was staying late after school to grade a few last minute papers before the final took place in three days. This year so far had been very eventful up until this month when I first met Billy then that's when things started to get out of hand. It was simple on what the blame was; I was in love.

I stopped myself.

Love? Was it really that or was it merely lust? How could it be lust if he wanted us to be together?

As I stared at the paper on the top of the small stack, I let my red pen dance in between my index and middle finger nervously.

I shouldn't have let myself into this in the first place. I should've avoided to help at all costs but it's in my nature to assist the needy.

With this quick sense to give myself a break from grading papers, I leaned back in my chair and tossed the pen on the papers.

My eyes trailed up to the ceiling and a sly smile snuck onto my lips the more I imagined about being with Billy. Not only as his fling, but his girlfriend.

At this point I no longer cared about who would criticize us or who would try to split us apart. I wanted Billy and it was fairly clear that he wanted me, but could I actually take his word for it?

After all, he did admit to being with Heather Holloway the night he came to my house completely intoxicated.

That was it.
That was the only thought stopping me from doing what I thought was the improbable.

Would he want to go out and still do teenage things if we were together? If so, would he get tired of me treating him like I'm his parent?
I can imagine how things would go if we disagreed on something in the long run.

My smile faded after those thoughts occurred.

I couldn't possibly think about him at a time like this. I had to do my job since I'm so far behind with my grade book organization skills.

I didn't bother to pick up my pen when I felt the urge to close my eyes so they could have a rest from the continuous scanning of papers. After a minute of letting my strained eyes take a break, I opened them again to realize my fatigue.

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