He Loves Me Not.

It was Valentines Day. The day of Love. I honestly didn't feel it though. I had waken up early, earlier than usual this morning, and Patrick was still asleep. I wanted to be loving, so I let him sleep in some.

I waited a while, thinking he'd be up in a minute or so, but he didn't wake. I got tired of waiting so I trudged out of bed and into the shower. The warm water hit and slid off my body, feeling wonderful. I washed my hair and such, figuring by the time I finished, Patrick would be awake, but when I peeked into the bedroom, Patrick was laying on his back, eyes tightly shut, and his mouth slightly agape, emitting soft snores. His hands rested on his stomach, which was slowly rising and falling.

As much as I wanted to wake him up, I let him sleep. Giggling silently, I walked into the closet and looked around. I guess I could wear a dress. But the ones I owned were too fancy, like for dinner parties, or costumes. I didn't wear dresses all that often, so I didn't own very many. I settled for a red long sleeved shirt, and a pair of blue jeans, knowing that the red skinny jeans would be a bit too much.

I walked out of the closet, keeping my fingers crossed, hoping he was awake now. I frowned when I saw he was in the same position. I covered him up a little before I turned the thermostat up some.

I peered out the door, the wind blowing in my face. I had a sudden urge to just look at my neighborhood, look at just everything.

I picked a flower from our garden, remembering what I had used to do in grade school. I'd pick flowers from the park or the neighbors or something, and then I'd think of the boy I liked the most at school, going He loves me, he loves me not as I picked the petals off.

And that was what I did.

...He loves me... he loves me not... he loves me... he loves me not... he loves me... what the fuck, he loves me not? I thought as I glared at the petal-less flower in my hand. I knew he loved me... he had to...

I sighed as I let the green stem fall into the bushes below my porch. I furrowed my eyebrows as I felt a raindrop plop onto my nose. It was a blistering day. I figured the sun would've come out by now, but it hadn't.

Thunder sounded, my cue to go inside. It was blissfully warm in our small house. Everything had a glow to it. It was ours, mine and Patrick's, all ours. We weren't married, just deeply in love. We figured since one day we were going to get married, might as well move in to get that out of the way.

I walked into the kitchen, hungry for some food. I searched the refrigerator. Nothing. The freezer. Nothing. The pantry. Nothing. The cabinets. Nothing. I gave up and looked in the fridge again, hoping food had magically appeared. Nothing but a half eaten bagel and various condiments. Eggs seemed to hard to make right now, so did a sandwich. Even cereal. I sighed and closed the door. I felt a slight chill by the rush of cold air being pushed out of the fridge, but was instantly warmed by someones breath. It smelled of coffee and pumpkin... pumpkin flavored coffee almost.

I spun around, my eyes greeting his tired, still half asleep ones. His hair was sticking up every which way, begging to be smoothed down. I wanted to kiss him. Just hold him.

"I love you." He whispered into my ear as he pushed my body into the fridge, lacing our fingers together like a scarf.

His butter soft lips brushed mine. His breath and scent filled my nose, making me let a content sigh out. Not being able to resist him, I locked our lips together, like a padlock. My hand slid up his side, and onto his chest, which was delightfully warm, then around his neck, pulling his face closer to mine.

"I love you, too." I cursed into his mouth as our lips parted their ways.

She loves me not, she loves me

He loves me not, he loves me