I woke up alone. I didn't know whether I was expecting to wake up wrapped in Peyton's arms or not, but I was still disappointed. Our reunion last night had been indescribable; there were absolutely no words that could explain how I had felt when she had pressed her lips to mine.
We hadn't discussed it for the rest of the night, instead lying next to each other and watching a movie. She fell asleep about half way through, her soft breaths barely audible due to the movie we were watching. I couldn't help but admire her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful, a small smile etched on her face as she slept. I felt that last night was definitely a turning point for both of us, so waking up alone definitely stung.
So many questions were racing through. What had last night meant to Peyton? Better yet, what had last night meant to me? The days leading up to Peyton leaving were tense and filled with anxiety, on my part at least, anyway. We had almost kissed, and then she had accused me of playing games with her sexuality, which wasn't the case at all. The truth was, I was confused about my sexuality, but I wasn't confused about her. I knew that my attraction towards Peyton was growing stronger and stronger by the day and had reached its peak three nights ago when we had sat on the lounge and almost kissed.
There was no question that I was extremely physically attracted to Peyton. She stirred feelings inside of me that I had never felt before. But did I have romantic feelings for her? I had never had feelings for anyone before so I didn't have anything to compare it to. All I knew was that her smile made me smile, her laugh made me laugh, her happiness brought me happiness, and the thought of her leaving me again made me want to hold onto her and never let go.
I unravelled myself from the blanket and got off the couch, walking upstairs to see if Peyton had retreated back to her bedroom. Her room was empty, as was the bathroom, so I knew there was only one other place she could be. I made my way out onto the back verandah and watched as Peyton rolled around on the grass with Dennis, tugging on the rope he had clasped tightly between his teeth. Her laugh sent shivers down my spine and I couldn't help but smile as I watched the two interact.
"C'mon, dude. Just drop the rope," she said, pulling at the rope.
She hadn't expected him to let go, and as she pulled with all her might, Dennis had loosened his grip. Peyton went flying to the floor and I couldn't help but laugh at the sight.
"You did ask him to let go," I chuckled, which caught her attention.
Even from metres away, I could see the flush on her cheeks as she stood up, brushing off her pants as she did so. She laughed somewhat nervously as she walked towards me, leaning against the verandah railing.
"How'd you sleep?" she asked, wiping sweat from her forehead.
The simple question shouldn't have illicit such deep thoughts, but it did. The truth was, although it was an uncomfortable couch, although we fell asleep with the TV on, and although I had had the worst day ever, I slept the best I've ever slept in my life. I couldn't figure out why, the only solution being that Peyton was right next to me.
"Uh," I cleared my throat awkwardly, "yeah, good. I slept good. You?"
"Yeah," she ran her hand through her hair, looking down at the floor awkwardly. "Yeah, I slept well."
"Did you...uh, did you stay on the couch? Or did you go up to your bed?" I asked pathetically, refusing you meet her gaze and staring at the ground.
She seemed to find the ground equally as interesting as I did. She shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other, before finally saying, "I stayed. I just woke up early to let Dennis out."
Relief flooded through me. She hadn't left me to sleep alone. She had stayed. I had slept through the night for the first time in what felt like forever. Had she held me while I slept?
"Oh," I finally said, "I thought maybe you had left to go up to your own bed."
I willed myself to look up at her, but regretted it immediately when I saw that she was staring straight back at me. My eyes faltered and I looked away, but her voice brought me back.
"No, I stayed. It was..." she paused, running her hands through her hair once more, "nice."
My brain was whirring at a thousand miles an hour. Peyton Mitchell had told me she thought sleeping next to me was nice! Who would've thought...not me, that's for sure.
"Y — yeah," I stammered, "it was. Did you want breakfast?"
The tension between us urged me to change the subject from our sleeping arrangements, and I could tell that Peyton was glad I had done so. She nodded and headed inside, and I followed close behind her. Peyton went upstairs to shower, realising that she hadn't done so since before she went to the hospital.
"I was just so caught up in...everything," she had said.
We hadn't acknowledged or spoken about the kiss that we shared. It was obvious to both of us that it was on our minds, but neither of us had the courage to bring it up. I was tempted to, purely to know what was running through her mind, but I didn't. I desperately wanted to know though, why had she kissed me? Did she regret it? Was it a spur of the moment decision?
I made her breakfast while she showered and she returned twenty minutes later with her damp hair thrown into a messy bun on top of her head, a bandana tied around her hairline, a sports bra, and sweatpants. Her skin was still slightly damp, her abdominal muscles glistening in the morning light. I shamelessly let my eyes travel her body, eyeing her stomach, her arm and shoulder muscles, and her chest as she turned towards me.
I wordlessly handed her her breakfast, our hands brushing against each other's as I did so. I involuntarily brought my lip between my teeth when I noticed her nipples hardening through her sports bra, and diverted my eyes away before she caught me staring.
"Th — thanks," she stuttered.
She turned her back to me and sat down at the dining table, proceeding to dig in to the breakfast I had made for her. I watched as her back and shoulder muscles flexed and contracted as she moved, and found myself wishing I could run my hands over them and dig my nails into her skin. I had never had the desire to do that to anyone, and the fact that Peyton Mitchell was the one making me feel this way was something I had never expected.
"I can feel you staring at me," Peyton's voice broke me from my inappropriate thoughts and I jumped at the sudden noise.
"Oh, no...I wasn't..." I stammered, but she just chuckled in response.
"Come. Sit down," she said, pulling out the chair next to her and patting it.
She didn't need to ask my twice. My body instantly reacted to her request and I walked towards her, sitting down on the chair and facing her, tucking my feet underneath my body.
"Can I ask you something?" she asked me. My heart rate instantly fastened and I could feel my breathing become shorter and quicker. 'Can I ask you something?' was never followed by a question I wanted to her.
"Uh...y — yeah," my voice shook with anxiety.
"Are you a lesbian?"
I wasn't sure what I was expecting her to ask me, but it certainly wasn't that.
"Um...I don't know," I admitted.
And that was the truth. I had no idea. All I knew was that I had never particularly been attracted to anyone at all, until her. She didn't respond, instead silently looking at me as if urging me to continue talking.
"I just...I've never really had feelings or anything like that for anyone before. I've never been attracted to anyone until now," I said quietly, not looking her in the eye.
Out of the corner of her eye I could see a smirk grace her plump lips, and the words that followed didn't surprise me.
"So, you're attracted to me, huh?"
I blushed and put my head in my hands, leaning my elbows on the table.
"Stop," I whined, as she tried to pry my hands away from my heated face.
"Why are you so embarrassed?" she asked, still trying to drag my hands away, "I'm attracted to you, too."
Her words stopped me in my tracks and I looked up from my hands, my eyes meeting hers. The expression on my face must've matched the shock I was feeling, and she answered the question I hadn't yet asked.
"I don't know why you're so shocked. I thought that was obvious."
I thought back to all the times we had shared in my house that weren't spent arguing or avoiding each other. At the time I hadn't considered them to be anything, but in hindsight I could recognise that the lingering looks she had given me were full of lust. Those looks, combined with our almost kiss, and then our actual kiss, made it quite clear that she was in fact attracted to me.
"I guess I just...never thought you'd be attracted to me," I said shyly.
She rolled her eyes playfully at me and scoffed. "Why wouldn't I be? You're hot."
Peyton Mitchell thinks I'm hot? Who would've thought. Not me, that's for sure. Her words were constantly taking me by surprise and I spluttered and stammered as I attempted to keep the conversation going.
"Have...have you always been, you know, attracted to me?" I asked quietly. "Or has it just happened recently?"
"Well, I guess I've always thought you were attractive, but I didn't know you like I do now. I suppose the attraction has been a more recent thing..." she said thoughtfully.
The fact that Peyton had always found me attractive, even before we had gotten to know each other and somewhat sorted out our differences, blew my mind. Although, upon reflection, the same went for me too. I had always found Peyton annoyingly beautiful, but the physical attraction to her hadn't blossomed until we had been in each other's company constantly. Even still, I had never had an issue with Peyton, it was always her who had the issue with me.
"I — I just didn't think you saw me that way. I thought you hated me," I whispered.
I knew bringing up the 'h-word' was dangerous territory, but I said it anyway. I wasn't as frightened of her reactions as I used to be. She sighed in frustration and ran a hand through her damp hair, tugging slightly on the roots.
"I've never hated you, Zara," she sighed. "Please let's just...not get into this."
"But," I began, but I was stopped as she reached out and placed her hand on my arm. Her grip was firm but gentle.
"Zara, please don't," she pleaded. "Maybe I'll explain another day, but now isn't the time."
I wanted to argue my point — to get an answer out of her as to why she treated me like her enemy for four years, but instead I sighed loudly and nodded, not wanting to start an argument after things between us had been so incredible.
She squeezed my arm gently, silently thanking me for letting the conversation slide. I was tempted to grasp her hand in mine and hold it tightly, but I ignored the urge. I still wasn't sure where we stood and what her feelings were towards me. I had established that she was physically attracted to me, but nothing more than that.
I considered the fact that she might just want to sleep with me, but then her outbreak of anger two days ago at me in her room made zero sense. If she just wanted sex then she wouldn't have accused me of treated her sexuality like a game. To put it bluntly, I was confused, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it before it was too late.
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AUTHORS NOTE
Hey guys, this is my last pre written chapter! I'll try to write as much as possible but I can't guarantee regular updates. I'm still in hospital so I can't write as often as when I was at home. I hope you're all well and enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to vote!