I don't know what girls usually did when they started liking someone in a form of fancy, much rather than "I like you as a friend" kind of way due to my lack of friends of the female species, but what I did couldn't have been much different, right? I mean, if he lived opposite your house, you would hide behind the girly curtains of your actual room instead of your attic, right?
Since my curtains were fairly opaque, I figured that he wouldn't be able to see me staring at him from behind them, feeling my heart pound unhealthily from under my shirt. While I stole glances at Connor, he seemed to be looking out for me as well as he would usually gaze at my unusually empty attic window, just above the window of my own window. It made my heart beat thump by thump as I wondered whether he was looking out for me in the attic.
But watching him without his knowledge felt so wrong. It felt so wrong knowing that he was actually expecting to see me up in my attic. I don't know, to me it felt so wrong that I was watching him, unbeknownst to him.
I guess stalking felt weird to me. I never really made it a habit of mine to go around watching other while they were unaware, although it was pretty easy for me to do so in school, because nobody thought twice about me. They would look at me, probably make some snide remark about my hair, and then go back to whatever they were doing before they saw me. It was pretty common when things like that happened in my school. And I actually seemed to have good hearing, or I was an excellent lip reader, because I always seemed to know whatever it was that they were saying about me. It was not very nice.
Nevertheless, I could very easily watch someone whether in a crowd or in a nearly-empty place, because I always seemed to be able to fade into the background. I guess at about now, I was grateful for my ability or gift. Well, maybe if I had foresight, that would be great too. As I was thinking, I noticed Connor's gaze lower even further. I immediately ducked to the side, hoping that he wouldn't notice that the curtains were moving indoors, with no source of wind in the room. After five minutes when I took a risk and peeked out of the window, I saw that he was walking down the street with Spots. I sighed in relief. I had gotten away with it this time.
Or have I?
Ten minutes later, Connor was jogging down the sidewalk as he brought Spots back in. I sighed in satisfaction as I watched him take the dog in, closing the door behind him. I was such a girl! I thought my little stunt had went unnoticed, but ten minutes later, after I thought he was at home, presumably having a bath after walking his dog. How wrong could I be?
As I climbed up to the attic, celebrating my achievement in terms of spying on Connor, I considered myself pretty successful. I mean, I did it all the time, but spying on Connor made me feel like the king of the world. I skimmed trough the books on my bookshelf and decided on one of my favourite books and then I settled by my usual corner by the attic window. It was a lovely spot. I flipped the book open to the first page.
I was trying to get myself to focus on the book, but all my mind could concentrate on was back on Saturday, where I had watched Connor all sweaty and looking absolutely - well - hot.
I guess it was pretty literal too.
I'm such a joke. I even make myself laugh!
I smiled at the memory, and I was starting to go into a fantasy when the doorbell rang, snapping me out of my thoughts. It couldn't really have been Terence because he knew that there was a set of keys above the doorframe. As I peered down of the attic window to see who it was, my heart skipped a beat. What was Connor doing ringing the doorbell?
I heard as mum quickly rushed towards the door, where she looked rather surprised to see Connor. I watched them have a quiet conversation when she invited him in. I didn't know why he couldn't wait for Terrence. Everyone knew that he would be coming back from his date later, when his plan to get with his girlfriend for their first year anniversary was practically announced to the whole school. Yeah, I wasn't really proud to be associated with him when it as announced.
That was when I heard the dull thumping of footsteps as they were approaching nearby. Through the walls, I could vaguely hear mum tell me that there was someone to see me. My heart soared in elation as Connor had come to visit me. But then I realised that I was in the attic mum didn't know about. I quickly bolted for the trap door and jumped out, fearing my life as my body caused my loft bed started to shake and creak.
Not a moment later, my bedroom door opened, revealing mum standing with Connor. Mum had a huge grin plastered on her face. The kind that said "I know everything."
"Just friends," I had to tell her. She left my room with a wink and closed the door behind her.
"What's up?" I asked Connor meekly, while I jumped off my lift bed and settled myself on one of the bean bags under the loft. I patted one next to me, inviting him to sit down next to me. He nodded and settled down next to me.
"I think we both know," he said, staring out of my window. "You wanted to see me?"
"What?"
He smirked. "You were spying on me," he said, nodding towards my window, where the curtains were drawn apart, showing a view of his house. My face burned red.
"I wasn't!"
He smirked, making a dimple form on his right cheek, causing my insides to squirm. I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from making a non-committal noise by accident. With one look, he made me go a deeper shade of red. "I wasn’t spying on you!" I managed to squeak out. He laughed at how nervous I had suddenly become.
"Then tell me, Mi, why are you so nervous?"
Mi. Wow, not even my mother had a nickname for me. For him to have one for me... Wow. I had nothing to say. At all.
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing would come out. Words got caught the moment they were about to escape my mouth. He smirked for the third time that minute. And my goodness did he look absolutely amazing in that. I bit down on my lip. Hard. I was surprised I wasn't bleeding yet. "I thought so," he said.
I was totally not expecting what he did next. He pushed me off the beanbag and tackled me face-first onto the floor. He sat on me (literally) as I suffocated to death. I couldn't breathe with my stomach pressed against the floor under his weight. Then, he leaned down until his mouth was next to my ear. "I'm not getting up unless you admit that you were spying, and that I am absolutely hot."
I shook my head because I wasn't able to speak properly when he was pressing down heavily on my back. It hurt. A lot. Plus, his butt was pretty hard, so more pain for my back. Ouch. "Ne... ve... errrrrrrrr!" I panted. It was hard to talk. But, I did it anyway.
"Say it!" He insisted, leaning his full weight down on me. I couldn't breathe, nor could I even try to get up.
"Fine!" I gasped. He rolled off and then looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to admit that he was hot. I doubt he really needed to hear the part where I was spying on him. We both know that I was. And I really doubt the reason he had come to my place was to get confirmation that I was spying. Although I think he was probably and most likely bored, I didn't really care. Because he was in my house. My house!
"Well?" He asked, looking at me and waiting for me to tell him something that would feed his ego by about a thousand times. "Say it!"
This time, I had earned the right to smirk. "I lied."
He crossed his arms playfully. "That's it!" He screamed as he pushed me backwards, making me lie on my back as he sat on my stomach. Somehow, he knew where my weak spot was and tickled me. I giggled as I did my best to get him to wriggle free from his grip but failing terribly. It made him tickle me more.
I was out of breath before I finally exclaimed, "I- I'll say it!"
He stopped tickling me, but he never got off either. "I was spying on you." He looked at me, and nodded towards me to continue what I was saying earlier.
"Go on," he urged patiently, liking that he had the power to make me say whatever he wanted to make me say. "I'm waiting."
"And," I said, dragging on even further. I already thought and knew that he was incredibly hot, and if I were to say it out loud, it would make me believe it even more.
"Yes, go on, Miranda-" Let me just stop there first to say that the way he said my name made me feel weak, "-I'm still waiting," he drawled.
"You're incredibly hot?" Actually, I said it really fast, so it was more of you'reincrediblyhot. He rolled his eyes.
"Firstly, Miranda, look me dead in the eye and then say it. Secondly, make it seem less like a question and more like a statement or a fact, because it is. And thirdly, you have to slow down, girl, because I couldn't hear what you said clearly," he said, grinning (or maybe smirking really widely, I don't know. I couldn't tell) down at me. I felt like a trapped little bunny getting hunted by a lion.
Wait, do lions hunt bunnies?
Whatever, my point is there.
He continued to look at me, and I had no choice but to comply, after all, as I have said, his butt wasn't exactly the softest of silk, and second, my stomach was hurting from both the laughing and his weight, that I didn't actually have much of choice. I looked him - well, actually stared, but who's noticing - in the eye (and my goodness were they blue) and said, "You. Are. Incredibly. Hot."
My voice kept getting lower until the end, where I could see him biting his lower lip. His normally light blue eyes were getting darker. I started to realise that it was because he was coming closer to me, and the blocked light was making the lightness in the colour of his eyes less visible. Soon, he was so close that our noses were touching. His lips lightly touched mine, before he eventually realised what he was doing and his eyes widened, but not before adding more pressure.
"I- I'm sorry," he stuttered apolegetically, as he struggled to get off me gracefully. Not that he managed to do so, though, but he tried. I guess that was what was important. Not that it made it easier on me, bearing in mind that he was sitting on me and not anybody else. Me.
Me. Me. Me.
I then broke into hysterics when he fell. He fell down on his back in the end, when I pushed his heavy body off my own, making him start whining and complaining. He was honestly such a girl. However, when out banter had died down, things had started to get complicated. Or awkward if you will. Very awkward.
"Sorry about that," he mumbled. "I- I wasn't thinking. I- you- never mind." I raised my eyebrow at him, as he turned into a slight shade of pink. I never thought blushing was possible for guys, seeing how they are naturally born with an ego the size of the land area of Russia, I thought they were the ones making the girls blush.
Apparantly not. Connor seemed to be one of the rare ones who blushed. Or maybe they all blushed, I just didn't know because I didn't hang around them enough. Seeing Connor blush, it made me smile inwardly.
Then it made me think back of our almost-kiss. Maybe it was considered a kiss, you know, with our lips touching and stuff. I mean, we didn't like, pucker or whatever it's called, but well, they did have some form of physical contact. Even if it was light. Well my point is that I thought back of the moment, and I wondered if it meant something to him, or was it just his male hormones acting up.
"Wanna see my attic? I asked randomly, mainly to break the awkward atmosphere. Besides, I was sure he was at least vaguely curious about why I was always there. He knew that I was always there, and I was sure he wondered why. I mean, every time he talked about my attic, there was always something in his tone, which sounded slightly suspicious or curious or something that made him suddenly more interested.
He grinned, although still slightly embarrassed. "Sure!"
So it was on that day, in which my attic had finally had a visitor who wasn't me.
Word count: 2309
Total count: 11950