She's A Good Girl

Faith was the girl next door.

Her brown hair fell down her back it light waves, ending at mid-back. She had an amazing figure – not stick thin, not too curvy. Just right. Everything she wore fitted her well and complimented her petite frame, or accentuated the honey gold flecks in her deep, soulful brown eyes.

I was 18 when I actually noticed those flecks, when I finally realised something I hadn’t even considered for a long time.

I loved her.

And she would never know. She couldn’t know, and even if she did, she wouldn’t give me the time of day. I was a branded man-whore, playing girls hearts like they were Call of Duty. I couldn’t help it. I needed the pleasure they gave me to take my mind off of her.

“What are you thinking about?”

I looked at her and smirked slightly. “You.”

She pressed her lips together in amusement, shaking her head. “Right. I am so not becoming another notch on your bedpost.”

I shrugged and looked back at the sun that was slowly sinking below the Californian horizon, casting everything in and orange glow. However, it only highlighted the light streaks in her hair and shadowed her cheekbones, giving her a fierce and strong appearance.

And, that was what she was on the inside. One of the strongest female’s I have ever met. I hadn’t ever seen her cry before – not when her Dad cancelled her horse riding lessons, not when her dog, Brandy, died, not even when she tripped over my foot and fell down a flight of stairs at school, ending up with a broken leg and a fractured wrist.

I guess it was part of the reason why I adored her so much.

I sighed and walked back into her room, leaving her on her balcony. Her room always smelled of coconut, for some reason, and I loved it. I trailed my fingers across the patchwork blanket on her bed – the blanket we had joint made as 10 year olds with nothing better to do. She still had it, folded up neatly with her giant cuddly fox sitting on the end.

I laughed silently at this. Such a cool disposition, and yet such a softie at the same time. She never could let sentimental objects go.

“I love it when you smile,” she said quietly.

I turned around to face her, and in that moment, I swear she looked like an angel. The golden light shone around the outline of her body and danced on the glass panes in the French windows. It was like my own personal solar eclipse, right there in the doorway.

“Thanks.”

We stood like that for a few minutes, just enjoying each others presence. I was probably enjoying it more than her. For her, knowing that I was even falling for someone would be enough to laugh, let alone falling for her.

But in all truth, I had already fallen. Shit, I had fallen so long ago, and it felt so damn good.

“Faith-”

“Russell-”

We both paused and laughed at each other, before she blushed and directed her gaze to the ballerina jewellery box on her dresser. “You go first.”

I sighed and scratched the back of my head. “You know, you’re not gonna believe me, but-”
“You’re right, I probably won’t believe you,” she joked, smiling.

I narrowed my eyes at her before continuing. “This is hard enough without you laughing at me, Faith.”

She stopped and frowned at me. “God, get a frickin’ sense of humour, Russ.”

“I have one already, it’s just… I…” I growled in frustration at myself and ran my hands through my hair.

Why couldn’t I say it? I’d said it so many times before that it should be a piece of my Grandma’s chocolate sprinkle fudge cake. But I couldn’t speak. Why were the words sticking in my throat?

Because you love her.

I closed my eyes and exhaled before feeling a cool hand touch my forearm and bring it back down the my side. I opened my eyes to look at her, brushing a stray strand of hair from her perfectly shaped face. Was I really going to grow some and tell her?

Yes. Yes I bloody hell was.

“I love you, you crazy, mind controlling girl.”

She smiled, but didn’t look away from the relaxing circles she was tracing on my arm. Her reaction surprised me – I was truthfully expecting her to flinch or cower away from me, or even kick me out of her room. Instead, she didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was thinking. I could tell because her eyes were glazed over and there was a dint in her lip where she was internally biting it. I was so obsessed with her that I noticed things like that.

After a few, birdsong filled moments, she eventually looked up at me, into my eyes, a genuine love-filed smile gracing her dainty face.

And words cannot describe the ecstasy my pounding heart went through when she said the next thirteen life changing words.

“Call me stupid, but I actually love you too, you bed hopping whore.”