nerd.

vingt-neuf

 

4 1/2 Months Later

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Arielle Evans 

"I'm in love with you." he says. I look back at him, lifting my eyebrows in surprise. "I'm in love with you, and I know that love seems like a foolish thing, and that I can't love you as much as you want me to or how you want me to, and, God, Arielle Jessica Evans. I am so in love with you." I exhale, utterly shocked by his statement. "I love you with everything I have, and I know I need to slow down with all of this, but I want to tell you why I'm in love with you. You are so beautiful, you know that? I am not in love with you because you're beautiful, or because you have a fit body, or because you have perfect teeth. I am in love with you because of the way you laugh even when nothing funny has been said, the way your forehead creases when you giggle at my lame jokes, how you manage to stay strong throughout anything thrown your way, which dammit, happens to be a lot. I am in love with you because of the way your nose crinkles when you think something is gross, how you snuggle into my shoulder when you find something scary, and how you rant endlessly about the most random things. I am in love with you because you are so, so strong, so beautiful, so absolutely perfect. Hell, you might just be the thing I love most in this unfair world because that is how perfect you are to me, and I am so in love with you." he finishes finally, and I suck in a breath, tears beginning to form at the corners of my eyes.

"I...I love you, too. So much." I manage, choking slightly as tears begin to spill out of my eyes. I reach across the table and place my hand in his, as his eyes start to water as well. "I love your unimaginably curly hair, I love your gorgeous green eyes, your charming, flirtatious personality. I love your British accent, the way you push your tongue behind your teeth when you grin, the way that you hold my hand so tightly. I love your passion for singing, your incredible voice, even the way you tap your fingers against the table when you're nervous. I don't deserve you, quite frankly. You are far too good for me, and I am so lucky to have you, and I love you, so very much." My voice wobbles towards the end until I can feel myself crying again. For the first time in my life, these are...

happy tears.

*

At the end of the dinner, I find myself still grinning from ear-to-ear, the words that were said still ringing through my ears. I love you, he said. It didn't feel fake like it did when Mason said it, although I meant it when I said it to him. This time, it felt real, and it was an indescribable feeling.

"I love you." I remind him as we climb into the car.

Harry smiles. "I love you more, baby." I smile, my heart swelling. "Would you like to stay the night at mine?" he asks suddenly, and apparently he catches onto my confused expression, because he quickly adds, "I mean, you don't have to, but if you wanted to, I would be more than--"

"Harry. Stop rambling." I tease, and he blushes slightly. "I'll text my mom." Harry's face lights up and I smirk at his childishness.

To: Mom

Is it ok if I spend the night at Marcel's house? Gemma is visiting and I want to spend time with her

Okay, so maybe that last part was a lie, because I would be spending my time with Harry, although Gemma was indeed visiting.

From: Mom

ok, b safe, will pick u up at 11

I smile and put my phone in my pocket as Harry speeds towards his house. We arrive there a few minutes later, and I get out of the car slowly, careful not to step on my long, elegant white dress. Harry holds my hand tightly as he unlocks the door with his other hand and we step inside. The house is dim, a lamp barely lit somewhere in the living room. Harry frowns and flicks on the main lights, illuminating the entire area.

"Much better." he grins. I giggle and follow him upstairs into his bedroom. His walls are painted a deep brown, but you can't really see it because they are covered with posters of bands as well as many photos of him and other people, several including me. "Need something to sleep in?" he smirks. He starts rummaging through the drawers, tossing random things out.

"If you can't find something, I can always borrow something of Gem-" I start, but he interrupts me.

"Nonsense. Here." he hands me a pair of plaid pajama pants and a white T-shirt. I dash into the bathroom and quickly change, and when I come out, Harry is already in the bed, snuggled up in the covers like a little child. I giggle and climb in next to him, and he turns off the lamp next to him, leaving us in just the light from the moon outside the window. He wraps his arm around me, bringing me closer to him.

"I cannot believe we've been together for six months." I say in awe, tracing the tattoos on his bare chest with the tips of my fingers. "It's surreal."

"I love you." he simple says in response, kissing my nose gently.

"I love you more." I smile at him, even though he can't see me in the dark. He kisses the top of my forehead, and then kisses my eyelids, closing them gently. Like Hazel Grace Lancaster said, "I fell in love the way you fall asleep; slowly, and then all at once."

*

I wake in the middle of the night from a nightmare, which have occurred frequently since I broke up with Mason. I catch my breath, sweat beading my forehead. I roll out of Harry's grasp, and he shifts slightly, but doesn't wake up. I grab my phone and walk into his private bathroom, locking the door softly behind me.

I check the time after that- 3:04 A.M. I splash my face with cold water from the tap and pat it dry with the towel hanging on the rack. Once I get out of the bathroom and climb back into bed, I can't seem to fall asleep. I climb out of the bed once more, and Harry groans and rolls over. I tiptoe out of the room and onto the balcony connected to his and Marcel's room. To my surprise, Marcel is sitting there as well.

"Why are you up?" I ask, sitting on the edge next to him.

"Why are you here?" he retorts.

"Touche." I smile, gazing up at the night sky.

"I couldn't sleep, so I got up and just came out here." Marcel shrugs.

"I had a nightmare." I tell him, and he looks over at me, concern filling his green eyes.

"What about?" he asks, scooting closer to me.

"Mason, his father. The usual." I shrug. "And my thoughts are just jumbled, I guess."

"What do you mean?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"Harry told me he loved me last night." I sigh, and Marcel's eyes light up literally like a Christmas tree. "And it just feels weird, I guess...because the last person that told me that was Mason, and he obviously didn't mean it. I guess my trust in love is broken or whatever, and I just feel like Harry is going to repeat what happened with Mason. I guess..I'm just trying to avoid being broken again, you know?"I nuzzle into Marcel's shoulder, and he wraps his arm around me comfortingly.

"Yeah, I get where you're coming from. But if I know Harry as well as I think I do, then I know he won't do that." Marcel replies, looking directly into my eyes.

"I know, and I want to believe that, so badly, its just me being afraid, I suppose." I sigh.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore, Ari. Harry isn't Mason, he never will be. I know him, and he wouldn't even dare to let someone near you, let alone him hurting you himself." Marcel says.

I giggle. "Yeah, you're right. And you know what, Marc?"

"What?" He sounds amused.

"I love him too."