Year of 365

September 4

There was something about her that I hated beyond compare. Something that I couldn't quite place. Until it, all fell into place.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that this would be why I hated him so much. For years we had been at each other's throats, and yet, after all of that, this had still become the outcome.

I first found out that I felt this way when I realized that she was seeing someone. I had felt jealousy before, especially whenever my parents favored my sister over me, or when one of my friends would ditch me to spend time with their significant other. But none of that could compare to the fire in my heart that burned ever brighter when I saw her walk into the party with him on her arm. The smile on her face was something that I had seen few times in the course of our interactions, though I could always see it from down the hall. And yet, here she was, smiling at him. I didn't know that jealousy tasted like blood.

I noticed him immediately as I walked into the party. How could I not? His presence was loud enough that I'm sure even people walking through the brisk and cold night down the street could feel it like I could. He was sitting at the bar, surrounded by his friends and a multitude of girls that I had never seen before. Of course, he was. The little playboy couldn't keep his mind on one lady at a time. So why was I feeling so bitter about it? Bile threatened my lips if I opened them, so when my date asked me for a drink, I simply nodded. 

Her date walked away, leaving her near the door as he went to go and get her a drink. To be honest, I was surprised that she was even here. I never thought of her as the party girl. Always the girl with her nose buried in a book, with her hair done up in a messy bun, secured with a pencil. How could that nerdy little girl be the same one standing at the door? Her hair was loose and hung around her in an angelic style, and her dress hugged her frame just right. Maybe it was just the lighting, but I swear that she was glowing brighter than the moon outside. Someone nudged my arm, but I couldn't care less. She had just stolen my breath... and my heart.

'Why is he staring at me,' I thought to myself, taking the drink from my date. I could still see him out of the corner of my eye as my date and I got a seat at a table across the room from him. His arm was draped around the shoulders of a girl with auburn hair that fell in cute waves around her shoulders. While I was sticking to a simple non-alcoholic beverage, she had a martini in her hand, clearly looking for a good time. As I watched them, I found my eyes drifting instead to her companion, maybe even date. He wasn't dressed formally. In fact, he looked the same he did every day. The same old clothes that I had seen on him too many times to count. And yet, now,  I was unable to look away from him. I felt my heart pounding in my chest. It was so loud that I was worried that he could hear it, let alone my date who was trying to scooch closer to me, despite the fact that I kept moving away. Why had I even agreed to come on this blind date? I wasn't even interested in the poor guy.

She wasn't interested, that was clear as day. Every time she shifted away from him, he shifted closer, clearly not getting the message. Or maybe he just didn't want to. My blood boiled at the sight of him wrapping his arm around her shoulders to try and prevent her from moving, and my hands clenched at the end of my jacket. It had been years since we first met, and even then, all those years ago, I knew that I loved her. I said I hated her because of the way she made me feel. Like my heart was about to burst out of my chest and display all its vulnerabilities to the world. She made my throat and chest constrict every time she laughs, so close to ending my life like I was sure that she would like to. But worst of all was how I craved her. The closest I had ever come to feeling her lips on mine was the time that we had been partnered for a project in biology and had accidentally brushed fingers. But that single spark, I know we both felt it, was strong enough to light the flame within me time and time again, every time I saw her.

"Stop," I said, much harsher than I intended. I got up from my seat at the table, throwing the arm off of my shoulders rather unceremoniously. One advance too far. He had tried to kiss me, even after I said no, and I was fed up with this. He didn't seem to understand what he had done wrong, so I just stood and left, thankful that I had only gotten something simple. I threw a little money on the table for the drink and left, acutely aware of the eyes following my figure as I headed toward the doors of the club. Though I knew that he would probably just mock me if he saw me like this, there was a part of me that wanted him to follow. To feel his arms around me, holding me close and telling me that everything would be okay. No one had done that for me in... too long to remember. 

I followed her. I didn't even know why I had done it. I had just gotten up and left without a word and had followed her out. Nothing made sense anymore. 

"Are you alright?"

I turned around. It was him. He had come out and was standing underneath a lamppost, the light shining down on him in almost a heavenly glow. "Bad date."

"Who was he?"

"Just some guy that my friend tried to set me up with."

I took a daring step closer. "You know, I think it was good for your friends to do that." Oh, how she made my words catch in my throat. The way she stared up at me in the moonlight made every snarky comment die on my lips just at the sight of hers. It was a terrible insult, and yet she still looked ready to cry.

"Look, I'm not going to put up with your crap today," I hissed, massaging the bridge of my nose. "I just finished what was probably the most crappy date in history and I do not want to deal with you!" And that's when I felt the arms encircling me. I gasped and glanced up, or moved my head so I could see his face. His eyes were closed, his long eyelashes hanging over the lids as if they had been chiseled by a master artist. 

"You don't have to deal with me today," I whispered, my arms holding her tight. I felt her skin beneath my hands and her muscles shifted, her arms moving to embrace me too. 

A/N: I'm so sorry, I suck at writing romance stuff :( I might write more for it later, but it's late and I'm tired, and I still have more catch up to do so this is it for now. Please forgive me if it's not good. I've never written romance before so eeeeeee. Anyways... thank you for reading!