Losing Grip.

My breaths were shallow as Ian ran his hand up the side of my leg, just brushing past my bum and creeping underneath my school shirt. His lips sank into mine and I brushed at his fringe, losing my hand in his hair. He deepened our kiss and I pushed my tongue around his mouth further.

He breathed in sharply and moved his hand from underneath my shirt. He pushed me away slightly so he could unbutton my shirt. I let him do so but squirmed slightly; I wasn’t really a fan of how my body looked. Then again, Ian seemed to like it so I tried to accept it.

At least we were in the dark.

That night was particularly special. I think Ian might have picked up that I was a little bit upset; or perhaps he just felt bad because I’d told him about those guys picking on me. Either way, he made an extra effort for me.

He didn’t even need to. Just the feeling of his skin on mine, his hand on my body, the sight of his eyes, all these things made me feel something that couldn’t be explained or described with words. It was a mixture of wanting and lust and something else that scared me.

We finished and Ian held the side of my head and looked at me.

“You alright?” He whispered, his eyes intent on mine.
“Yeah,” I managed to stutter out.

Ian planted a small kiss on my forehead then pulled me to him again. I leant my head on his bare chest; feeling his smooth skin. I could hear his heartbeat. I wondered if his heart skipped a beat every time he saw me. If he felt like it wasn’t working properly when I wasn’t around?

It probably didn’t. I didn’t have a clue why Ian wanted to be with me, if I’m honest. I could hear his steady heartbeat; it was much stronger than mine. I was sure he was much stronger than me.

I sighed contently in the darkness as I rested there in his arms. No matter what anyone said, no matter how wrong or sick I sometimes felt for being this way; right now this felt good. It felt like I was sure love was supposed to.

***
*next morning*

I sat on the edge of my bed, watching Ian pull on his jeans.

“Seen my shirt anywhere?” He asked, frowning.

“Er…” I turned my head left, then right, not really making much of an effort. “No, sorry.”

“Are you ok?” He asked, frowning. I nodded, smiling.

“Just... you know... tired.”

Ian spotted his shirt and bent down to pick it up from underneath my desk. He sat down on the bed, next to me.

“I’m not convinced,” he told me. I just shrugged, not knowing what else I was meant to say to that.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, poking my leg.

What was I meant to say to that? I could just remind him that he was going to be leaving me behind in September; and tell him how much I’d miss him. But that wasn’t doable. Somehow there always seems to be an issue with me processing serious thoughts into words- I’m better at “OMG LOOK A BIRD!” and that sort of thing. Also, it was doubtful that he’d feel the same way.

He acted like he loved me; and we were together, after all. But I knew he couldn’t, didn’t love me as I loved him. As much as I wished he did, I knew he couldn’t possibly. So basically confessing my messy, clichéd undying love for him probably wasn’t a great route, in my opinion.

So instead, I pulled out my trademark Sean Smith grin. I’m quite proud of it. I grinned at him and let my little light bulb head shine with smiles.

“I’m fine, you cock. Don’t go all serious on me!”

His face, previously anxious, broke out into a smile. He chuckled.

“All right. I’m going over to Lee’s. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Say hi from me.”

“I’ll see you later,” He promised, before brushing his lips over mine in a farewell kiss.

“Bye,” I smiled, peacefully.

I knew that eventually Ian was going to leave me. I knew that in a way, I ought to tell him how much that thought cut me up inside. But for now, I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t. I’d just keep on smiling; in the way I always do. I’d keep going until I was completely and utterly forced to show my real feelings.

Like that would ever happen.