-1 week later, when things were finally getting back to normal-

Flea smiled from the garage couch, "Let's play the asking game."

"What's the asking game?" I asked, not wanting to remove myself from leaning against the wall across the room from him.

"I ask a question, you answer honestly, then ask me a question." he explain.

I rolled my eyes, "Joy."

He laughed, "Trick is, we can ask anything we want."

This can only end in disaster. I raised an eyebrow, "Oh really?"

"It's my turn, Hannah." he grinned. I grunted. He thought to himself for a while then asked, "Why do you look at the ground with your eyes glazed sometimes?"

So he notices me when I don't, "Because I daydream. Why do act like a jerk around me?"

"Because it gets your attention." he said. "Why do you write hate mail about people you love?"

Now I turned red. I looked away, "You know the answer to that, don't spite me." I shot him a fierce glare, "Why do you act so stupid when everyone knows you're smart?"

He shrugged, getting up, "I only act stupid around you. But that's because I can't think around you. You're so..." he jokingly smirked, "irresistable."

Flea strode over to me and lifted his arms to block both sides of my escape. Me leaning against the wall and his arms on both sides of the wall around me felt a little inviting. I hid my rising adrenaline-rush under my only defence: sarcasm. "Why do you have to mess with my emotions, Flea?" I coldly remarked.

He half-smiled, as if he was hiding something from me, "Because I'm a selfish romantic jerk that wants you all to myself." His eyes locked with mine.

I furrowed my eyebrows, pretending like I was angry, "What are you-?"

"No, it's my turn." His intent gaze moved down to my lips,"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kiss you right now."

My heart raced... he could just be messing with me again... Or does he really want to kiss me? "Flea, if this is another trick to make me look like a fool-"

"I was the one being the fool." He said, his face inching closer, his body pressed against mine.

Is he really going to kiss me? This can't happen! I'm just a friend to him. Aren't I? I looked down to hide my blushing "Flea..." I gently pleaded.

His lips, centimeters from mine, paused and muttered, "Hannah."

My heart almost stopped from the whisper of my name escaping his lips.

If he is messing with me, this is going too far. I don't want him to hurt whatever I have left. "Don't hurt me." I said. Locks of my hair fell from behind my ear to cover my cheeks, and hopefully the corner of my eyes. I didn't want Flea to see me so weak. I couldn't bring myself to look up at whatever evil smirk he had on to probably keep himself from laughing at me.

"Hannah, look at me."

I slowly lifted my pathetic head, unprepared for his reaction. His expression shocked me, he was serious. He was concerned and resisting some kind of urge, looking at me.

His cheeks were pink. "Hannah," His face was coming closer to mine again as if by sheer instinct, "I would never hurt you."

I shut my eyes tightly and pressed myself against the wall as much as I could, wishing I could just seep into the wall and hide forever, "One more question: do you love me?"

My eyes were shut tight, afraid to see his expression. It was almost impossible to hear his answer, as if he didn't care if I heard him or not, as he whispered, "I love you."

And his warm, soft lips touched mine.

The kiss was powerful. I don't know if he noticed his arms wrap around my waist and pull me closer to him. I didn't notice my arms cup the back of his neck. Everything was in a black haze, all I could make out was me and Flea. Flea. The handsome, smart, loving, funny boy next door. He can have any girl in the world if he wanted, but he picked me. He loves me. A burst of energy exploded in me, unable to detach my thirsty lips from his. I tried to push him away but my arms were rubber. If it wasn't for his grip, I wouldn't be standing. Still breathing heavily, I asked, "Why me?"

He gazed at me like I asked the world's dumbest question, "Millions of reasons are running through my head but it would take forever to explain why."

He dived down to kiss me again, but I moved my head.

He growled, "Do you know how long I've been wanting to kiss you?"

"Please," I whispered, eager to know, "answer my question."

He stared at me but then hung his head and sighed. He let his hands fall to his side, looking around as if he didn't know where to start.

"Because... because when it's -20 degrees out and the snow's at my knees, I think about your laughter and it feels like the temperature sky-rocketted to a hundred." He looked away, blushing like mad, one of his hands rubbing the back of his neck, "Because when my dog died and there was no reason to live, I saw your face and my life felt complete. When I'm with you, all I want to do is get close to you. I always want your attention, no matter how annoying I can be, because I can't resist you. I want.. I need you to notice me. Because, to me, you're the most beautiful person in the world." He looked up at me, still blushing like mad. He took a step closer to me, "You know, Hannah, You. Drive. Me. Crazy."

I laughed, "And how long have I driven you crazy, Flea?"

He stepped even closer to me, he was about five inches away now. His eyes were intense, serious, locked with mine once again. His voice was barely a whisper, "Since the day I met you."

"...Since when did you start loving me?" I whispered back.

Judging from how close Flea was from my lips, there was no need to speak above a whisper anyway.

"Since I could fall in love."