blindspot // ethan morgan [ON HOLD]

twenty four

You're kidding me.

The other me won't shut up. Ever since I kissed Ethan, she's been non-stop "this is a joke" and "seriously, your mom is going to die and you're on a play date?" I don't know how much more of it I can handle.

"Are you okay?" Ethan asks, looking at me over his textbook.

"Yeah," I nod, leaning toward him. "Yeah I'm okay."

He slowly closes the textbook and sets it aside, putting his legs down. "I finished my homework."

"What do you want? A sticker?" I joke, but it feels genuinely mean coming out of my mouth. I quickly tag a smile onto the end of my question.

"I-" he pauses. "You know I was trying to make a joke about how you could be my reward, but all of them sounded horrible. Either something about sticky or making you sound like property, it would've been bad."

"Yeah, stop talking," I laugh, putting my hand to the side of his face. He leans into my palm and smiles before closing his eyes and leaning in.

His mouth his warm against my own. He's so fragile, so soft. Part of me is scared to break him, but the other part of me doesn't care. I've wanted to kiss him for so long. Now that I finally can, I don't want to stop.

"Hey," Ethan breathes, pulling away.

"What's wrong?" I panic, feeling my heart starting to pound in my chest. "Did I do something?"

"No, no," he shakes his head. "I just wanted to ask you something."

"Okay," I nod, slowing down my breath. "What is it?"

"Are you worried? That I can't see or whatever," he asks. "My seer-ness doesn't work with you."

I take a deep breath and think before replying, "Yes and no."

"Elaborate?" Ethan asks, his eyebrows coming together.

"Well, yes because what makes me different?" I explain. "Like there is a piece of me that worries I'm honestly just not meant to be here or something."

"You're meant to be here, Caitlyn," he says, putting his hand on me knee. "I mean, I'm here."

I smile over at him before continuing. "And the part of me that isn't worried about it knows that. And maybe the fact that I am the only person's head you can't get into is just proof that I'm supposed to be here with you."

"See, there's a reason I can't get in your head," Ethan says.

And that would be my doing.

"Yeah," I nod, ignoring her. She's just a voice inside my head. "Yeah."

"It's kinda nice actually, for me at least," Ethan continues. "You're fate doesn't play itself like a bad movie any time we touch."

"Oh great," I laugh. "I'm glad you don't have to watch my obnoxious future."

"Okay, I didn't mean it like that," he replies. "I just meant it's nice to have a... blindspot."

"The term blindspot usually carries a negative connotation," I say.

"Not this time," he says, kissing my cheek.

Barf.

"I'll be right back," I say, getting up and walking out of the room. I smack the side of my head a few times before stepping into the bathroom and staring into the mirror. I wait for her to come out, "You son of a bitch, show yourself."

"I'm right here, babysweets," I watch my face morph and my posture change as she appears in my reflection.

"Oh look, if it isn't awful ole me," I cross my arms. "How nice of you to nag at me every time I try to have a nice conversation with Ethan."

"It's about time you thank me," she smiles, examining her nails.

"Ethan is great," I huff. "He is smart and funny and sweet and, honestly, a stupid teenage boy who gets into crazy teenage boy trouble. But I think it's great and I like him. I've liked him forever. So back off. You aren't even real."

"What did you just say?" She says, getting close to the mirror.

"You're not real," I enunciate.

"You. Little. Bitch," she crosses her arms. "I am real. I'm you."

"Shut up," I say, getting my hands wet and splashing the mirror. I quickly walk out of the bathroom, wiping my hands on my pants as I do. I walk back into the bedroom. "Now, where were we?"