It's Classy, Not Classic.

Worrying was something I slightly expected. Mixed emotions on my own emotions, that was confusing me to the borderline of driving me insane. All of these feelings are all due to the one thing that is, in fact, actually ridding me of all sanity and rational thinking -- a one Miss Kat Davis. For all of the emotions running through my head and my heart, the overload of contentment and security was all raining down upon me for the soul fact that I was absolutely, terribley smitten. Smitten with a girl I wasn't even allowed to touch, or atleast shouldn't. Never once have I felt a feeling like I do when I hear her voice or wake up in the morning, open my eyes and find her laying there beside me, brown hair tossled over the pillow, looking the part of the most adorable thing my eyes have ever beheld in my entire life. My heart was sincerely going insane for her, and with every thing she did I found myself thinking it obnoxiously attractive. She was just so fucking cute, and with everything she just made me want to fuck her silly.
I've devoted as much of my time as possible on this girl, this girl I'd like to think is mine -- since obviously she is, if the dog tag hanging around her neck didn't make it clear already. I admit I feel like a fool for letting myself fall so fast into an unexpected and unwanted love for this girl, I swore I wouldn't let myself get so attached to someone at my age that I would be so dependable on them. I may have not wanted or expected this love either, but that doesn't necessarily mean I hate it -- far from, actually.
Let's be honest though, with my past I direly needed someone to take care of me -- since I have no family to keep me in my place anymore. I suppose when I meant for someone to save me from myself I naturally expected it to be a girl, that would be the first guess anyway. But, what I didn't expect was what girl it would turn out to be. Some new girl who came from Canada who was a level of incredibley innocent that I'd never even imagined possible before. She knew things she wasn't supposed to, of course, and she had a slightly perverted side -- which may or may not have just worsened spending time with me -- but considering how much of the opposite I am from innocent, anything would be considered ridiculously innocent to me. That only seemed to worsen my interest in her in the first place, though.
I know I can't know for sure wether or not I really am in love, but how could I deny the butterflies I get in my gut when she's around? I can only assume for it to be love with that feeling, because with every word and every look those butterflies just get worse. At first I accused it of being one, pesky little moth, and I tried to shun said moth away from my gut desperately. Needless to say, it kept fluttering, and that moth turned into a swarm of fluttering butterflies, and I guess I couldn't help but feel these things for her. At the same time we were so samiliar and yet a complete contradiction of the other. I was fascinated in it, fascinated in the feeling, fascinated in her in general.
Now, here we are walking through the park a block or two away from her house, staying close together in the cold, one of my hands entertwined with her own. There was a slightly thick layer of snow on the ground, a surprising amount, enough for the footprints to be pretty deep. And beside me she walked in black jeans, navy boots and her black coat, a hoodie underneath and the hood up. I was dressed in the usual black jeans myself, a black coat as well and shoes, black fingerless gloves on my hands. Her cold, bare hand was laced with mine, and I tried to subtley keep her closer to me, because to be honest, she looked cold.
"I hate Winter." She spoke randomly, and my gaze automatically trailed over to her, snow falling around us lightly and probably on my hair, melting into it. Kids were playing in the snow nearby, three of them, two boys and a girl. An older couple, who I assumed to be their grandparents, watching as they ran around and threw snow at eachother.
"Why?" I inquired in response and she gave a small sigh for no reason, slightly cuddling close into my arm as we walked.
"It's freezing, and the snow is freezing and wet and it's falling from the sky. It's everywhere." She rejoindered in a mumble and I couldn't help but laugh at her childish manner.
"It's not that bad." I replied and after a small pause she gave a shrug, "You should learn to like it."
"Don't count on it." She giggled back softly, "I wouldn't mind pummeling you with snowballs though."
"... Thanks." I sighed sarcastically, a disatisfied expression appearing on my face and she gave another one of her endearing giggles, sending my heart insane for her. It punched and kicked at my chest, clawing the inside to get out, and I had to resist the urge to grab her and smother her with myself right then and there. There was young children nearby and an old couple -- that would not be good at all. They don't need to see that sort of stuff.
"I'd be pummeling you with love though." She added cutely, resting her head against my arm and looking up at me. I dared to look down at her, and when I did I tried not to go breathless at how perfect her eyes glowed from the sun in the white, snowy sky. Her greenish hazel eyes shined up at me, reflecting light from the sky and setting the illusion that they were even brighter and lightened up. I found myself staring at her, and a second later I noticed that my feet had also stopped in their tracks. She stood there, confused as to why I stopped walking, her face pinkening in some sort of embarassment at the fact I was staring like some sort of dumbfounded retard. "W-What?" She stuttered -- and wether that was from the cold out here or the embarassment I didn't know, either way I still found it completely precious and dainty. Everything she did was just charming.
"... You just have pretty eyes is all." I whispered, because I was afraid if I spoke aloud my voice would crack like a prepubesent boy and I'd start to blush as well.
She let out a sigh of relief, "Oh, I thought there was something on my face -- or... something." She giggled at herself before rolling her eyes at me, "You're a cheesy retard, did you know that? Psshh. What a cliche thing to say, Frankie."
"... Just because it's cliche doesn't mean it's not true." I retorted, automatically a smirk crossing over my lips, and she rolled her eyes yet again at me. She tugged my hand hard and yanked me toward her to start walking again, bumping herself into me. It really didn't do much, since she wasn't too strong, but I playfully rolled my eyes back at her and nudged her with my elbow. God was she alluring.
I don't even remember how it happened, but after one moment when we were walking along we were throwing snowballs at eachother and I was chasing her through the snow. I grabbed at one of her hands while I reached forward a little too far and lost my balance, sending us both to crash into the snow, landing side by side. She rolled over onto her back, hood still up and gave a whiny noise, making me laugh when I turned over onto my back as well, the back of my head resting on my hood. We were both covered in snow now, and we'd both be soaking wet sooner then later.
Somehow or another my hand found its way to hers and she didn't reject my affectionate gesture, lacing her fingers with my own securely and giggling happily. We layed in the snow, staring at the sky in complete silence, the only sound of the children nearby playing and squealing with giggles and laughter, running around and yelling things out to eachother. It truly felt like love to me, and at that moment I was convinced that it was.