Dude...Thats Not a Guy

34. Piece of Cake

I had lifted my hand to open her door but froze.

You don't just like her, you idiot. It's more than that.

Fuck, why am I so out of tune with my own emotions? I didn't love her... I couldn't. We weren't even in a relationship yet. Or maybe that part didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. The situation didn't matter; the outcome did. The outcome of getting close to her had led me here; too scared to open the door to Sora's bedroom because I...

I was a coward.

That's what Alistair and Xav would say if they saw me here and knew what was happening in my head. Well I couldn't let my imaginary set of friends be right, so I opened the bedroom door and walked in, seeing Soraya sitting on her bed in front of the window, staring up at the sky through the glass.

While I couldn't see her hands since she was facing away from me, I could hear her fingers tapping the ceramic mug in quick succession, see the tension in her shoulders.

"If you don't like me back, just rip off the bandaid." She said with a quiet voice, not even turning to look at me as she spoke. I looked over to her bedside table where my mug was, but left it there. The hot chocolate wasn't important. What she said was.

"Sora, I..." Oh great. I had that entire speech prepared and now I had a lump in my throat that wouldn't dislodge.

"Zeke left over seven minutes ago. I heard your footsteps. Heard you freeze at the bottom of the stairs and at my door. You'd only do that if you were putting off the inevitable, so just get to the point already." Shit. I climbed onto the bed, which was pushed against the wall. If I couldn't stand between her and the window to get her eyes on me, sitting next to her on the bed would have to do.

After I settled in next to her, I took a deep breath. Hearing how shallow her breathing was spurred me into action, because I couldn't let her feel rejected for a second longer.

"Hey, you remember when we were wrestling for me to have your terrible art diary and you were trying to save my poor eyes from ever seeing it?" I asked. She nodded, still staring out the window.

"We ended up on the floor. You were nestled comfortably between my legs." She answered, and I swear I saw her cheeks flush at the mere mention of it. I hadn't even noticed that's how we had been positioned, but later that day, when I couldn't figure out why I was desperately horny, it came to me. And even now just thinking about it – don't get distracted, Ashton.

"You remember asking me what I was staring at?" I asked next. She finally looked at me. The light from the window caught in her irises, brightening the dark blue to the colour of the ocean.

"Obviously." She said, seemingly a little too impatient to bother with my long method of storytelling.

"I lied when I said it was nothing." I said, thinking back over it. "I was looking at the way your cheeks flushed, how your hair surrounded you like a fucking halo, the way you were looking at me with wide eyes and your lips parted just a touch with shock, like they are now. I was looking at you." I said, watching her close the gap in her lips since she was now aware of it.

"So?" She asked, the question showing her confusion over why that meant something. I guess it didn't, really.

"So, I realised that maybe... maybe I thought of you far differently than how I should think about a friend." I watched for her reaction to my words, seeing her jaw clench as she realised I wasn't moving closer to her, wasn't reaching to touch her like I probably should be. "But I didn't know what to do about it, so I shoved it down and pretended it hadn't happened. Then you grabbed my arm before, and all those thoughts I ever had about you in that way came back."