17Chapter Seven – Payton
I play with my hands as Mikhail takes a seat opposite me on the bench just outside the quad. I told him that it was urgent and that it couldn't wait, so he postponed his 'wrestling' session with his insanely large friends to come talk to me. Although now that I think about it, it probably wasn't the smartest idea to do so. Now he has to sit there, knowing he just blew off his friends for his girlfriend, as said girlfriend tries her hardest to explain to him that she cheated on him and is in love with another girl.
Mikhail continues to stare at me with eyes hopeful, albeit a little afraid no doubt because I look like an emotionally unstable wreck. And usually when your girlfriend comes up to you and says they have something urgent to tell you, it's not a good sign. But because Mikhail uses his muscles for brains, he doesn't entirely notice the awkward ambience.
"Okay." I whisper, throwing Mikhail a short glance before looking away. "There's something I need to tell you."
He raises an eyebrow and leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "Sure. Go ahead."
Crap. Wasn't I so unbelievably in love with this guy a few days ago? How do feelings change this quickly?
"Okay, well, there's- Um," I hesitate, and look at anywhere but his patient face. This is so much harder than I thought. "There's something that I did. Something- Something not entirely great. Something that you might find yourself despising even in the future when you're old."
Mikhail's expression slowly dampens. And it kills me to see his smile fade away. "Payton, what's wrong? What's going on?"
I shake my head. "I'm so sorry, Mikhail."
"What?" He shoots me an incredulous look. "What happen-"
"I cheated on you."
And then there's a sickeningly long silence that stretches across the quad like an invisible hand suffocating at the very air I long to breathe. His expression, impressively, remains impassive. But his eyes widen at the news of the betrayal. And as he slowly leans back and scrutinizes me through wide, disbelieving eyes, I feel a jab in my heart at sight of him like this again. He doesn't deserve this. Damnit. Why did this have to happen?
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks. "It's Nectont, isn't it?"
My eyes widen. "No! No, it's not Juliet, it's-"
"I knew it." He laughs spitefully. So spitefully my body flinches involuntarily. Leaning down again, he places an arm on his thigh and looks off to the right. "I knew she'd do this. That fucking bitch. She couldn't stop with just one of my girlfriends, no, she had to go and take another one!"
"Mikhail!" I glare at him, finding offense in the idea that he thinks Juliet is the only person I'd ever fall for. "It wasn't Juliet, okay? It had nothing to do with Juliet."
He snaps his gaze back to me, so hot it can burn through skin. "Then who was it?" He asks, voice raspy and low with hurt. "Who'd you fall in love with?!"
I'm unable to respond. Because my voice gets caught in my throat, sticky with guilt and fear for him doing something he'd regret. I didn't mean for this to happen. Who means for things like this to happen? But unfortunately, it just does. It happens unexpectedly and quickly and before you know it, you're submerged so deep underwater that you have no other choice but to let go and let the current take you. Overall, life just becomes one messy game of seeing who drowns first. I never wanted to hurt him. Mikhail deserves better than this. But I fell in love with someone else.
That was just something I couldn't stop.
"You don't want to know." I whisper, looking away.
Mikhail's whole expression breaks. The pain is now evident in his face, obvious enough for even an idiot to see. Painful enough for even me to feel horrible about it. "When was this?"
I cringe.
When did it ever really start?
Honestly... The chemistry could be broken down to the day we first met. When I felt a passion so hot burn inside of me that I had no choice but to think of it as hatred. I thought I disliked her, for being so innocent and underwhelming, and then for being a two-faced psychopath. But now that I think about it, it's always been a matter of emotion, not necessarily a specific one. Needless to say, I felt something strong whirl inside of me. And until recently, I was mistaking it to be detestation. Maybe, it was desire all along. I was just too skeptical to ever consider it such.
"It was-" I force myself to look into his soft, brown eyes – now dark with agony towards the betrayal of the one person he thought wouldn't ever betray him – and flinch. "-a while ago."
"Shit." Mikhail curses, glaring down at the ground with an anger I've only ever seen him wear towards the girl who stole Olivia away from him.
Maybe I should explain.
Two months ago, Mikhail Daring was head over heels for a Junior named Olivia Brown. She was the love of his life for a good five months, up until she came up to him one day in tears, and confessed that she had cheated on him. And fallen in love with somebody else. That 'somebody else' turned out to be Juliet Nectont. The Stefthen player who took girls to bed without much care for whether or not she'd hurt their feelings and relationships with other people. Of course, Juliet could be seen as the bad guy in this story. Mikhail, heartbroken and enraged, broke up with her. Which, because of his stunted emotional growth, was harder on him that he'd over thought it would be. He spent two months trying to get over it. Two months trying to forget the face of the girl he'd hope to one day marry.
Then he met me. And everything changed.
Or, at least, he thought it did.
And now it was happening all over again. With someone who was finally able to help him get over his first horrible betrayal.
"Mikhail-"
"Don't." He hesitates, before withdrawing his aggression. Despite his anger-management issues, he is trying his hardest not to let this affect him. I can see it in his eyes. And I feel like shit knowing that this has to happen. But it does. It does, because I can't continue to be with him if I feel this strongly towards someone else, even if my feelings for him still remain. What I feel towards Amber differs tremendously with what I feel for him, because this isn't a physical want, it's something so deep in emotion, it's caused me to destroy the stability and perfection in my life in exchange for an unknown chaos that would surely someday ruin me.
Amber is the chaos that I am willing to accept because I'm falling so hopelessly in love with her. I can barely comprehend it, which is something I'm not used to.
Mikhail is the boy who had helped me move on from Juliet.
But I've never loved him. Not like how I do with Amber. Not this strongly. And it's so fatuously inane that it had to be her of all people. It had to be her who I eventually give my heart to. The one person who's the polar opposite of me – the girl with some serious mental problems and instability in her crazy two-faced life.
Of course.
In a way... Some of you might even think it's perfect.
I take in a short breath, but never once do I take my gaze off his face. I want to burn the image of his agony into my mind, just so that I can cement my own predicament; that giving this boy up and causing him so much pain is worth it to get what I really want. No, that came out meaner than it actually seems. I want to remember his face like this, so that one day when I look back, and wonder if I've made the right choice, I'll know that I have. Because the thought of having Amber all to myself, despite the sentiment sounding selfish and cruel, far overpowers the sorrow I have for leaving Mikhail.
"I'm sorry."
Mikhail raises his head slightly. His hazelnut eyes, usually so bright with enthusiasm and passion, now casts a dark gloom on his face. The only thing I can think of is how much I wish I could hug him and tell him it'll be alright.
Mikhail Daring is not a bad guy.
But he's been through some ego-shattering bullshit.
And I haven't once, nor will I ever, blame him for the actions that he's done – He'd never hurt somebody without a legitimate reason.
"Were you ever in love with me, Payton?" He asks.
And the thing that surprises me the most, is his voice. The broken monotonous sound of his voice sends shiver up my arms. Had I truly done permanent damage?
"Mikhail," I hesitate, before reaching out to touch his shoulder. Thankfully, he doesn't pull away. "I didn't- It's not like I dated you for the sake of dating you. I really liked you. I never wanted this to happen but—"
He shook his head, looking back up into my eyes. "You didn't answer my question. You said you liked me." He took a moment's pause, before adding, "But you didn't love me."
I didnt –
No.
No, I suppose I didn't. Did I?
I bite back the urge to get up and walk away. Because despite my usually monotonous expression in almost every situation I find myself in, I'm terribly inexperienced with break-ups. Especially since... Well hell, this is the first break-up I've ever been in. And the thought of having to stand here and deal with this – I don't know what to say that can make things right. I don't know what to do that'll make things better.
I part my lips, but no words leave my mouth. There's an empty chasm of dark silence that fills the air around us, despite us both being outside in the sunlight surrounded by nature of all kinds. The fact that we're in this scenario is almost ironic.
"Mikhail—"
"Stop." He breathes out a long, trembly exhale. One that makes my heart go cold with guilt. "Please, don't say anything. I don't – I can't hear your voice right now."
I feel my own words get stuck in my throat. And when it finally manages to leave my mouth, it leaves almost broken. "Please, Mikhail, I—"
"No, stop!" He stands up abruptly, knocking me back a couple of steps. When I look up into his usually-so-soft brown eyes, I feel my chest constrict at the sight of it wet with unshed tears. He bites his lip in an attempt to keep them in. But fuck – Fuck, do I feel guilty. "Don't say – Don't say anything. Please, I just – I just—" He struggles with his breath. He struggles with his equanimity.
This situation will haunt me forever.
"I just need some time away. I can't look at you right now." His voice, despite his best efforts in keeping it from doing so, breaks at the last sentence. And when he turns around and leaves, I find myself paralyzed with a feeling stronger than every bad emotion I've ever felt before combined.
The death of my parents hit me hard. It hit me harshly and abruptly and I found myself unable to walk upright without the support of my Obaa-chan. I was barely an adolescent, not old enough to understand what death meant or how brutal it can be.
Now – Now it was a different situation.
I realize that I'm barely an adult, not old enough to understand what life meant or how brutal life can be.
Because losing people, whether through death or through betrayal or through any other means, can hurt like a bitch. It can hurt, but that all comes with living your own life. You make your own decisions, you get to decide which ruby is worth throwing back into the ocean. There are no shortcuts, no backspace, no reset buttons in life. There's just the cold, solid truth. And the truth for me is that, I've fallen in love with Amber Cassion, somebody who I never thought I'd ever feel anything for. That's the truth. And if I keep denying myself the truth, I'll be living a life of misery and suffocation.
Fuck those skeptics who tell people not to listen to their hearts. You only get one shot at life. Might as well make the most of it with the emotions you've been gifted with feeling.
I take one short, shaky breath. And let my emotions cool. Mikhail's not going to forgive me for this. I've scarred him forever.
But I made this selfish decision because I control my own life. Nobody else does. I control my own life and my own decisions. And the thought – the thought of having Amber all to myself now...
It's worth it.
She's worth it.
Amber
My filter is... I don't know. It feels different.
I take in a breath, and reach up to feel my forehead. Crap, I think I'm coming down with something. Probably a flu bug. Nonetheless, it's gonna disrupt a lot of pre-planned situations. I hate being sick. Not only does it affect how my body works, it affects how my mind works too. Because when I'm sick, most of the unfiltered thoughts that appear come out hazy and ambiguous. Often I can't even tell if what I'm saying is the filtered or unfiltered version of my words.
I sigh, shut my eyes, and breathe. After a moment, I stretch my tense body out and get out of bed. The nurse's room has a surprisingly pleasant smell to it. It's cosy. Warm. Much like Payton's arms. Oh god, that feel when I was in it – I wish I could see her right now. But she has Mikhail to deal with.
And I? I have my own agenda. My own thinking to do.
I thank the nurse generously, and leave the room in search of Juliet. Honestly, that girl is the only person I can turn to nowadays. Despite her being a major pussy now because of what happened with Katherine, she's the only person who I haven't either fought with or had an awkward falling out with. Besides, it's been like, what, a week? I haven't seen her since Katherine's party. I'm surprised I didn't bump into her in class or anything.
Woah, was she skipping classes this entire time? I barely noticed. My mind was so pre-occupied on everything that happened this week.
I turn the next corner, and unfortunately, bump into someone in the process. I take a step back, looking up at the person I bumped into before actually apologizing this time (Cause we all know how dangerous that situation can be).
Ken stands in front of me, wide-eyed and surprised at the flushed look on my face. I have to stifle a gasp to see him standing there. To see him there with the sunlight streaming in through the windows in narrow rays. It takes me a moment, but I slowly realize that Ken is incredibly unique-looking. He has this... this mature, traditional look to him. I don't know. But now that he's lost most of the weight that's been holding him back, he's almost like a different person.
"Amber." My name slips out of his mouth in a raspy breath. He sounds like he's been running. The sweat dripping down the back of his neck solidifies this assumption.
"Hey," I muttered, trying to ignore the flush in my cheeks at the unexpected meet. My fever has increased considerably since I left the nurse's office. Coincidence? I think not! "Fancy meeting you here."
Ken nods, and turns away uncomfortably. There's something about the way he's standing. Clearly, something's bothering him. "I heard... I heard some strange news from a few people in the football team about... about you."
Oh great. I totally need this right now.
I laugh, nervously running my fingers through my hair. "Nothing good, I assume."
He hesitates. "Do you have a minute?"
Reluctantly, I shrug. "Sure."
He leads me across the corridors and out into the courtyard. On Saturdays, the school is usually unpopulated. After all, who'd want to spend their weekends here in this crummy place when they're given the privilege to go out and actually do something with their lives? Ken leads me to the nearest bench, sits me down, and takes a seat beside me. After a few moments of awkward silence, I speak of the first thing I notice.
"You got new clothes." I blurt, throwing a glance at his smaller-fitting clothes that hug his arms and chest quite nicely. Don't look at me funny for noticing that kinda stuff.
He tenses slightly, before nodding. He still, however, doesn't make eye contact. "Yeah." He says. "My mum took me out a few days ago. My old shirts were getting really baggy so—"
"No, they look good." I laugh lightly. "You look really good."
"Thanks."
And then the silence commences. It's that kind of silence that makes you wonder why you have to endure with it. Especially since you don't really wanna be there. But Ken wants to say something. He has the right to. You know, for some messed-up psychopathic bitch, I really do care a great deal about him. Maybe it's just cause we've been through so much. And he's just someone with the kind of personality that I like. He's easy-going and old-fashioned; Something that's incredibly hard to find in this generation.
Finally, after a century of nerve-wrecking silence, he speaks.
"Aaron says you're still in love with me."
It's not like I didn't expect that. I did. This whole situation was about either of two things: One, his want to find out if I really did sleep with Aaron, or two, the second rumor that Aaron told everyone about me still being in love with Ken. To be honest, I expected it to be the latter. I knew he was gonna ask that but – but that doesn't make it any easier to talk about. I said that on impulse, because it was the only thing, at the time, able to disperse through my filter. I didn't expect Aaron to be there and tell the whole fucking school about it!
Shit.
"Ken, I have to clear something up—"
"Look," He interrupts me, turning around to face me for the first time since coming here. "I don't care what Aaron Mackoy says. I hate him and I've always hated him. I know that he's into you, and that he'd do anything to get with you. So I don't—I don't believe him or anything, okay? I get it."
I feel my breath get caught in my throat. I want to respond – to say anything at all– but I can't. Something's keeping me from doing so.
"I just want the truth. I want—" He sighs, shaking his head. "I wanna know why you said that. And what's happening with you, cause nowadays I swear it feels like you're the only thing anyone can talk about in this godforsaken place."
Well, he's definitely right about that. I'm just bouncing around in these hallways like a fucking dodgeball. All anyone can talk about is me. Which fucking sucks, by the way. When I signed up for attention back in my freshman year, I didn't mean this kind of attention. This is what I get for being the leader of the Blow-Aways. I know I have to be honest with Ken. He deserves that at least. After three years of me lying to him about who I really am, I know I should, for once, be real with him. Ken's a good guy. I can trust him with even my darkest secret.
Right?
I take in a short breath, and say, "I'm with someone."
Ken tenses slightly, but the reaction doesn't show on his face. "Who is it?"
"It's—" Crap, how can I say this? I can barely believe it myself. For fuck's sake, I was never into girls before this happened! And then Payton comes in being the fucking perfect girl she is and everything changes. "It's someone you know."
Ken laughs. "Right, cause I know three people and it's that easy to narrow it down!" He shakes his head. "Amber, I'm not gonna tell anyone. I'm not gonna go around being a huge dick just because we broke up. I'm not that kind of guy. I've learned what being a dick can do, I'm not going back there."
"I know— I know that, Ken, I just—" I lean back against the bench and breathe out a long sigh. This is much harder than I thought it'd be. "I trust you. You have to know I trust you. I just— I'm having some trouble with this myself. I'm not sure if this is the right thing to do, okay?" I laugh, and shake my head. "I barely even know if what 'this is' is real. I mean, I'm pretty sure it's real.
"It— It has to be. If it isn't—" I feel my voice go thick with uncertainty. "I don't— I don't even know what I'll do if that happens..."
Ken doesn't speak for a moment, he lets the words sink in, before turning to me. "You're that into him, huh?" Ken smiles, just slightly.
Ah, here it is. The moment of truth. I force out a smile, turn my face down and laugh. "It's— It's a... she, actually."
Ken laughs. Once. "Oh, wow, I actually thought I heard you say 'she'."
"I did."
"You did?"
"I did." I say, pausing. "It's a girl."
Ken's face morphs into an exact facsimile of my father's when he found out that Ash was homosexual. The memory is a little hurtful, to be honest. I force my own expression to remain stoic, but the thought of Ken lashing out at this news scares me. I know he's not that kind of guy – He was best friends with Jules for Christ's sake – but the fact that his ex girlfriend is, apparently, into another girl, has to be messed up even by his standards.
"I know it's a lot to take in." I say.
"A lot to take in?" He leans back and laughs, running his fingers through his curly brown hair. "Yeah, that's— that's a bit of an understatement." He shoots back up instantly, etching closer to my face and eyeing me like I'm destined to be the queen of England someday. "Since when were you— I mean I never knew you were—"
"I'm not." I say defensively, but then retract, and look away. "I mean, she's the only girl I've ever really... considered being with."
"So... What? Are you bisexual?" Ken asks.
I hesitate. "No— I don't know! Damn, Ken." I stand up and start pacing. Just because this whole conversation is starting to get to me and honestly, I need to move if I'm gonna calm down. "Look, this all happened really suddenly. One moment I was fine, we didn't like each other, and my thoughts were taken care of pretty well! And then the next moment, my feelings and emotions and thoughts were all going out of control and I could hardly get a grasp on my own life! Do you know how horrible that is?" I groan into my hands and laugh, like a pure psychopath, before taking a short breath, and shaking my head. "This is all just so messed up, y'know?"
Ken shoots me a sympathetic smile. "Sounds like you have it hard."
I stop pacing, and stare at the ground. Do I really have it hard though? I mean, for once, I'm given the one thing I want. I'm not bothered by any annoying suitors – despite that sounding unbelievably selfish – and the girl I'm incredibly into is gonna break up with the guy she's with to be with me. Why is this so complicated? It shouldn't be this hard, right?
I sigh. "Oh fuck this." I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm with Payton Elizaville. And fuck, she is sexy as hell. She makes my head spin and my knees go weak and my heart beat a thousand times faster than it usually does. And shit, Ken, this is scaring me cause it's never happened before!"
Ken lets the information sink in. He knows who Payton Elizaville is. They were in the same book club last school year. He talked about her once – said she was cold and unintentionally secluded. But he respected her because she was so incredibly intelligent. I didn't believe that at first. Now, I realize, he was so accurate it's scary.
"Payton." He says once, his eyebrows knitting together in shock. "You're with Payton Elizaville?"
I bite my lip and nod. "Thoughts?"
Ken looks away and laughs. "Oh, I got a lot of them." He says. "I don't— I mean, I thought she was straight."
"Yeah, well, so did I." I say, taking a seat next to him now that the whole confession is done and over with. I trust Ken. Even with our history, I feel like he's worth the truth. Look, we have a lot of history. We met when we were 9. At the time, I was still that oblivious little girl walking through life in a blur, not knowing who I was and what everything meant. Clearly, since I was 9, that doesn't come as much of a shock. But soon enough, my sisters changed me.
When Ken and I were 14, we got together. It started as an innocent relationship with little messages passed around about how much we liked each other's eyes. And that was what caught me the most. The fact that he liked my eyes. My stupid, boring grey eyes which I got from my dad. My stupid, boring grey eyes which I hated with a burning passion because they reminded me so much of Ian and how he used to treat us. For the first time in my life, a boy made me feel like I wasn't my dad. Like I could be an actual girl in somebody's eyes. And yeah, sure, maybe it wasn't love. And maybe I did have to lie about who I actually am for three whole years.
But it's a relationship I'll never regret. It's a relationship I'll remember till the day I die.
He turns to me now, with a smile that I remember all too clearly, cheeky and timid and a little unsure. "You look... really happy, Amber." He says, his voice a soft tone thick with compassion and care. "I've honestly never seen you this happy before."
I smile slightly. "I'm not sure happy would be the right word."
"Oh?" He laughs and reaches out to tap me on the arm. "Says the girl who's smiling like an idiot."
I reach up to touch my face, but feel no difference. "The hell you talking about, Ken?"
He shakes his head, and gestures to my chest. "It's not physical. Not really. But you just seem different, you know? You have this... smiling kind of aura around you. An ambience of satisfaction and bliss."
I look down at my chest. "My boobs are smiling?"
"No!" He laughs and shoots me a short glare. "Your heart, you moron."
I laugh, leaning back against the seat. After a short moment, I say, "That was a really sappy sentiment, Ken. I might just get diabetes from it."
"Oh, as if you weren't thinking it." Ken smiles, and knocks my shoulder with his. "You've always been a romanticist at heart, even if you are... kind of a psychopath."
I burst out laughing. "Oh, that was completely uncalled for! I demand an apology!"
"Demand?" He grins and shakes his head. "Life doesn't work that way, unfortunately. If you want something, you have to earn it."
"Right, of course." I say, chuckling. I have to admit, this kind of contented feeling works for me. And Ken played a part in that. "Hey Ken," I say. "I'm really glad we're still friends. I just wanted you to know that."
Ken doesn't respond for a few seconds. But when he does, he does it with a genuine and authentic smile. "Me too, Amber." He says, reaching out to grab my shoulder and pull me closer to him. "Me too."
And I let him. I drop my head onto his shoulder and just enjoy living in this moment when I'm not Amber, and he's not Ken.
And we're just two people who've found each other in this giant, unnatural world.
We're just two people who didn't fall in love, but who loves each other. With something stronger than lust or want holding our relationship together – Trust.
Neutral
Amber leaves to the library from her dorm room five hours after meeting with Ken. Her fever is still evident, it seems. But she doesn't give much heed to it as she walks along the gravel pathway that leads to the extra-curriculum building, pass the courtyard and pass the Science classes. It's 20 minutes past 8, and the sky has dimmed a considerable amount since she was last out. But she knows that she was going to be restless all night if she didn't get to see her. She knows that her mind, body, and heart all yearned to feel that connection again. That zap of electricity.
That taste of Payton's sweet lips.
She finds herself walking just that bit faster.
Upon reaching the library, she comes face to face with Mrs. Librarian, who had exited from her place by the front desk and now stood opposite the door wheeling around a cart of scattered books. She spots Amber, leaves the cart where it is, and makes her way towards her. She then searches for something in her trouser pocket and hands it over to Amber.
"Oh," Amber says, taking the little note carefully. "Thank you."
Mrs. Librarian smiles, before turning around and walking back to the half-empty cart.
Amber scrutinizes the meaning of this. Could Mrs. Librarian finally be telling her something about herself? Could it be her name? Where she's from? Her bloody nationality? Or maybe it's a secret note fetish that she wants to share with Amber. She laughs at the possibilities, and opens the note.
Meet me in room 2-28.
All thoughts of Mrs. Librarian fly out her head.
This note could be from anyone. It could be from a creepy stalker or a deranged psychopath or hell, it could very well be from Tahlia using somebody else's room.
But Amber just knows this is her. She look up at Mrs. Librarian, mouthes a 'thank you' after they lock gazes, and races out the door.
She doesn't once slow down as she whizzes past the classrooms and corridors and finally, makes it to the dorms. She's panting by the time she reaches the top flight of stairs, and has to grab onto the railings to keep from falling down like a sick dog. She knows she shouldn't be wearing her body out this badly. For God's sake, she has a damn fever to tend to. But – But the thought of seeing Payton again – and being in her room? –gives her an endless amount of energy.
She straightens up, runs her fingers through her auburn hair, and makes her way to room 2-28. If her heart wasn't beating fast enough before from all that running, it sure is now. Just a few hours away from Payton and she finds herself going crazy. What is this magical power and how did it come to affect her this badly?
She stands in front of her destination, trying to control her breath, trying to control her racing heart. With a loud exhale, and a small nod, she brings her fist up, and knocks on the door twice.
She waits for exactly three seconds. And then the door swings open, and standing on the other side is Payton. Payton with her hair drawn down to her waist. Payton with her PJ's wrapped comfortably around her body. Payton with her wide eyes staring back at Amber with a look so undeniably glad Amber can't contain her own happiness.
Payton breaks into a smile. "Hey."
Amber smiles back, even though she knows she must look like shit compared to her. "Hey."
"You came." Payton whispers, looking shocked at the very thought.
Amber wants to laugh, but instead she vouches for a timid grin. "How could I not?"
Payton looks as if she's about to say something, but she doesn't. Instead she steps to the side and allows Amber to enter. When she does, Payton closes the door, and presses her back against it as she comes face to face with the girl she's been dying to see since her break-up with Mikhail. The memory still pains her to no end, it still strikes a dagger deep into her heart and reminds her that Mikhail's suffering is because of her. But for now, with Amber standing right in front of her, looking sexily as if she just ran all the way to her dorm room, sets all thoughts of Mikhail out of her mind.
Amber takes a step forward, but makes no move to reach out to her. "How'd it go?" She asks softly.
Payton barely registers her words. All she can see is the flush on Amber's cheeks. "How'd what go?"
"The talk." Amber hesitates, before raising an eyebrow. "You did talk to him, right?"
And then Payton understands. She feels herself inhale deeply at the memory, before nodding. "Yeah," She says. "I did."
"And?" Amber squirms nervously under her intense gaze. "How'd it go?"
But Payton can't wait another moment. Payton can't resist the urge to hold Amber in her arms. It feels like a spell – a hypnotic compulsion so strong her body reacts almost naturally towards it. She steps forward, and in one quick moment, captures Amber in a kiss. A kiss so full of passion Amber barely has time to realize it's happening before melting into it. The room lights up in fire. Or, at least, it feels like it did. Because the heat now radiating from both their bodies engulf them in flames neither are able to see, but are able to feel, so strongly and so wondrously that they feel like they're drowning in the very presence of its ambience. Payton's lips searches the skin on Amber's mouth, while Amber finds herself feeling almost submissive to her kiss, almost sensitive to her touch. She feels the spot where Payton touches – just above her hip, with one finger stroking the back of her side – go hot with a mark she wants to keep forever.
She wraps her arms around her neck and pulls her in closer, closer till her senses are invaded by her. Till nothing else in the world penetrates the bubble they've wrapped themselves in. She gasps for air once they separate, but it isn't long until they feel the need to touch their lips again, and in one fatal moment, Payton kisses her, and pushes her tongue into Amber's burning mouth. The sensation sparks an inferno so intense neither are able to break free from it.
Amber just wants Payton, forever, to kiss her and touch her and be with her until there is nothing else but her. She wants to forever be lost in this darkness – to be rid of her own thoughts, filtered and unfiltered, and to swim in this dense jungle of compassion and want. This is all she wants. How had she become so lucky that she managed to find this now? Does she really deserve all this? She doesn't care.
Payton is— She means everything to her now. To lose her would be— It would be fatal.
Payton pulls away, knock their foreheads together, and takes a deep breath. Amber can feel the heat of her breath on her lips. She reaches up to grab Payton's face, kissing her once more, chastely, before letting the remains of their heated exchange float in the air like ashes.
"I'm assuming," Amber whispers, ignoring the goosebumps arising on her skin at the sight of Payton so close to her face. "It went well?"
Payton chuckles once, her grip on Amber's waist tightening ever so slightly. "That's one way to put it." She whispers slowly, still trying to catch her breath.
Amber pulls away a little, and looks into her stunningly orange eyes, unable to catch her fleeting breath as it escapes through her lips. "You're so fucking beautiful."
Payton's heart skips a beat. She smiles, and wraps her arms around her body, pulling her closer to her and pressing their bodies together in the heat of the moment. "So are you."
Amber licks her lips, and that's all it takes for Payton to lean down and kiss her again. Except this time, their exchange was soft. Payton places her lips on top of Amber's, pressing down slowly, before pulling away, and repeating the cycle. Amber pushes a little harder, needy for her love, needy for her attention, and relishing in the feel of her own heartbeat.
When Payton pulls away, Amber sighs slowly, breathing out the hot air that had accumulated in her head, and laughs. "That was— That was something else, I— I'm actually a little dizzy from it—"
Payton just barely manages to feel Amber's body slipping from her grasp before reacting to it, catching Amber before she falls onto the ground limp. "Amber!" She pulls her in closer to her, helping to support her suddenly weak body. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
Amber presses her head against the crook of Payton's neck and breathes out heavily against it. "I think— I just have a little fever, that's all."
Payton frowns and presses the back of her hand against Amber's burning forehead. She pulls away at the absurd temperature. "Amber, what the hell? Why didn't you tell me you were boiling a thousand degrees?!"
Before Amber can respond, she finds herself being guided to the bed, where the cold sheets are readily open to accept her searing body. Payton spreads Amber across her bed, and watches as her form shrivel into a little ball of exhausted energy. Payton's worry increases tenfold seeing Amber so vulnerable. After they made-out too! What timing. This could very well be one of the world's greatest achievements – Have a make-out session so hot you give somebody a fever.
Payton pushes the thought away, her concern overpowering her sarcasm, and grabs her computer chair and rolls it over to where her bed is. She sits down, and sighs.
"You're such an idiot sometimes."
Amber barely has the energy to laugh, but she does it anyway. "Excuse me?" She forces out, her voice sounding strained and tired. "I ran all the way here and kissed you like that even though I have this stupid fever and this is how you thank me?" She opens her eyes just slightly, and grins. "I'm hurt." It looks so pathetically adorable that Payton almost gives in.
She rolls her eyes and reaches out to palm Amber's forehead. It's cooled down a little since they separated, but clearly not enough. "I leave you alone for a few hours and this is what happens. You catch a virus and burn yourself to your body's extent."
Amber exhales loudly. "Can't help it if I'm so hot."
Payton laughs, but she realizes that Amber probably didn't hear it. She's halfway asleep as it is. After a moment or so of staring at Amber's docile face scrunched in discomfort and exhaustion, she stands up, and makes her way to the bathroom. Her own body is hot from their previous kiss, but nowhere near as hot as Amber's is. She decides to wash her face and brush her teeth, before re-joining Amber beside her bed.
Payton silently thanks God that her roommate sleepovers at her friend's dorm on weekends. It gives her this chance to use her bed since Amber is occupying hers. Walking back to her dorm in this state is absolutely out of the question. Payton wouldn't have allowed it even if Amber insisted. She almost smiles at the sight of Amber as she is. To think she waited all day for this moment, and now the girl she's been waiting for is a sick mess laying on her bed panting like a dying dog. She bends down, and pushes the hair out of Amber's face.
Amber groans at her touch. "No," She whispers. Payton pulls away, surprised. She had assumed Amber was asleep. But she opens her deep grey eyes, and stares right into Payton's face with worry. "If you kiss me, you're gonna get sick too."
Payton hadn't realized that. "Oh."
She bends down and kisses her anyways.
Amber responds to it immediately despite her own warning. When they pull apart, Amber smiles, and reaches up to stroke Payton's warm cheek with her thumb. There's a short pause, and then Amber whispers in a voice barely audible,
"I love you so much."
And it was such a big deal. It was such a big fucking deal because Amber's never said this to someone and meant it the way she did right now. Amber knows that, and Payton knows that, and now there was no going back because the truth is out there, open and ready for Payton to exploit and destroy.
Payton can feel her own heart squeezing tightly in her chest, voiding her of the blood she needs to survive this unbelievable interchange. But finally, after a century of still silence, she reaches out to grab Amber's hand that's still on her cheek, and whispers back in a voice she has never heard come out of her mouth before, "I love you so much too, Amber."
When she says it, and only when she says it, does she realize the impact of her words. It's sudden as it is simultaneous – It feels almost like a lightning striking them both to the ground.
Amber's lips stretch across her face, brightening up her features despite the paleness of her expression. Payton helps her to get under the sheets and tells her to rest.
"Where's your roommate?" Amber barely manages to ask.
Payton responds, "She won't be back until noon tomorrow. So just get some rest, okay? I'll be in the other bed."
But before she can get up and walk away, despite her heart squeezing again at the very thought, Amber reaches out and weakly grabs her wrist. Payton looks over her shoulder.
"What's wrong?"
It takes a few breaths for Amber to finally manage to say, "Don't go."
Payton smiles, but makes no move forward or back. "I have to sleep too, you know."
"Then sleep here."
"Next to your burning body? I don't think that's gonna be comfortable."
Amber opens her eyes a little wider, looking up at Payton silently, contemplatively, pleadingly, before finally giving in, and letting go of Payton's wrist. "You're right." She says weakly, laughing at herself. "It was a stupid idea, sorry."
She then turns around in bed, and snuggles into a ball by the corner, grabbing onto the closest pillow she can find and holding it tightly against her chest. She hears Payton standing where she is for a moment, before walking away. The lights are turned off, and all she can see is darkness, all she can hear is her own heartbeat. She sighs into the pillow, and curses herself for catching a bug on the day when it's supposed to be about her and Payton. Now she's messed that all up. How stupid.
She's just about to drift into sleep, just about to forget about the heat swirling in her body, when the blanket above her is lifted up, and somebody gets on the bed with her. She feels a slender arm wrap itself around her waist, and somebody's body press against her back behind her. She knows who it is, she doesn't need a voice to remind her. She instantly lets go of the pillow, and turns around in the bed to face her. She wraps her arm around Payton's waist just as she did, and buries her head on the crook of Payton's neck. The warmth they share adds to the heat in her body, but not in a bad way.
Before, her heart had always stood out from her body. When she fell ill, it'd always be cold, instead of warm. Now, holding Payton in her arms and knowing she'll be there when she wakes up the next morning, her heart is warmer than her body will ever be.
She lets herself sleep. In the arms of Payton Elizaville —
The girl she's falling incomprehensibly in love with.
Oh my goodness, guys! I'm back from the dead! It's friggin unbelievable!
Crap. I know I'm a huge douche for not updating in almost two months. But I got unbelievably caught up with schoolwork and activities and what not. And I had a writer's block for this and I couldn't continue and I'm sorry! Forgive me.
I really hope... this chapter compensates for it. I recently realized that I have a slight inability to write 'great' love scenes. Maybe I'm just lacking experience, y'know.
Anyways, as planned before, Borderline will continue! And then once I'm finished, I'll get on with DDG. :) Thanks for sticking with me, guys! I'm a pain in the butt but (HAH butt but) I write because it's something that I love to do. I write so that people like you can read it. So thanks. You make my whole occupation.
-K