squideatingdinosaur

snozsaysdontbeadiv:

The first time I saw him.

It was lunch time, at school.

He was alone.

Sitting under a tree.

It’s our tree now. 

He was new.

This was six months ago.

Time’s gone so fast. 

I nervously approached him, wringing my hands.

I was never nervous.

And he was only a boy.

A very good looking boy. 

“Hi.” 

My voice was quiet, raspy.

He looked up.

Shock glinted in his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes.

It was like he didn’t expect anyone to talk to him.

But I had to talk to him.

He was so intriguing.

He was so beautiful.

I didn’t know how a human could look like he did.

He was perfect.

He just gave me that feeling.

The one that money couldn’t buy.

The one that nothing could give you.

Unless it was love.

True love.

Love at first sight.

Sometimes love can bite you in the ass.

But not this time, no.

He smiled at me.

He fucking smiled.

It was single handedly the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.

Apart from the rest of him, of course.

That was just as good.

If not better. 

“Hello.” 

His voice.

It was so sexy.

So masculine.

His smile hadn’t faded, not one bit.

“Do you mind if I take a seat?”

My voice was louder.

I was more confident.

I wanted to impress this boy.

I wanted him to like me.

He shook his head.

“Not at all.”

His voice again.

It stirred something.

In the pit of my stomach, I knew I was already falling.

I was falling hard.

I was falling in love with a boy I’d barely spoken to.

And for once, I didn’t mind.

Scott.

His name was Scott.

Such a simple name for such a beautiful boy.

Weeks passed and I didn’t even realise.

Time flies when you’re having fun.

It was the first time I actually believed that saying.

We spent every single waking moment together.

And some sleeping moments, too.

Every weekend, he’d stay at mine.

And he’d sleep in my bed, in my arms. 

It was perfect.

The time of my life.

I lived for the weekends.

They made him happy.

That’s all I wanted.

To make him happy.

But I also wanted to make him mine.

I was falling rapidly.

But was he going to be there to catch me?

Of course he was.

He always was.

He was my best friend.

He’d always be there for me.

No matter what.

Exactly the same as I would be for him. 

In fact, I was there many times for him when he broke down.

I stayed strong.

I always stayed strong for him.

The last thing I wanted was for him to see me upset.

That would break his heart.

And breaking his heart was the last thing I wanted to do.

I wanted to fix his heart.

I wanted to steal his heart.

I wanted his heart to be mine.

And that was exactly what I was going to make it.

“I love you.” 

Those words.

They were said so much.

They were meaningless to most.

But not to me.

I meant it.

I meant it with every inch of my being.

I loved him.

I was sure of it.

There was nothing else to describe what I was feeling for him.

The butterflies, the blushing, the dreams.

Everything I felt when I looked at him, when I touched him.

It all came down to love.

Love.

Nothing more, nothing less.

He looked shocked.

His mouth formed a small ‘o’ shape.

His perfect lips. 

I just wanted to kiss him.

So I did.

I pressed my lips to his, softly.

I knew I shouldn’t have.

He didn’t respond to start with.

But then his hands fisted in my shirt.

His lips moved with mine, as if they were dancing together.

It was perfect.

Our lips moulded together.

Like we were meant to be.

And we were.

I was a missing piece to his puzzle.

He was a missing piece to mine.

I’d waited so long for this boy.

This beautiful boy.

He was my miracle.

I stopped smoking.

I stopped drinking.

I stopped everything for him.

I did everything he wanted.

He was my new addiction.

He was mine.

My hand tangled in his hair.

His soft dark hair.

His breathing was soft and deep, his chest rising and falling steadily.

Eyes shut, dark eyelashes resting on his cheeks.

He looked so peaceful.

So exhausted.

I grinned at that.

I only had myself to blame.

It was amazing, though.

The soft moans that slipped through his lips.

His short breaths.

How sweet my name tasted on his lips.

How soft his skin was under my fingertips.

I craved him constantly.

His love.

His touch.

His kiss.

Everything.

My parents approved, his parents approved.

Everything was sorted.

Our future was planned.

We were going to get married.

Adopt a kid.

Stay together forever.

Till death do us part.

He smiled in his sleep, as if he was thinking the exact same things as me.

His hair tickled my bare chest, but I didn’t mind.

Because it was him.

And I’d take a bullet for him.

I’d die to keep him alive.

I’d do anything as long as he was happy.

I’d stab myself.

His happiness, it was all that mattered.

His happiness and wellbeing.

I never wanted him to die.

That’d ruin me.

I couldn’t bare to think about it.

My baby.

My boy.

Gone.

Dead.

Six feet under.

I shuddered, tightening my grip.

I’d never let him leave me.

Ever.

****

I smile as I look back on this.

Five years.

Five years and I still feel the same.

We’re married.

Proud parents to Ashley, 18 months old.

It doesn’t matter that she’s not our biological daughter.

We love her like our own.

And Scott.

He’s the best father anyone could ask for.

He’s playing with Ashley now.

I can’t keep my eyes off him.

He’s still as beautiful, if not better.

My boy.

My precious boy.

He has this way.

Not just with me.

Not just with Ashley.

With everyone.

He makes everyone love him.

But he doesn’t love them back.

Nope.

I’m the lucky one.

The luckiest of them all.

Because he loves me.

And that’s all I could ever wish for.