Story I

It's been 3 weeks since she last saw him and for a second she wondered whether he still remembered her; or was she someone so easy to forget? She pretended to busy herself by fixing her bag's strap and when she finally willed herself to look up, she made eye-contact with sky-blue eyes that she thought she saw gleam for a second causing a rusty orange to glint and then disappear.

"Buongiorno."
"Buongiorno."

She mentally cursed herself for not taking the Italian class at the start of the semester. Understanding it was one thing. Speaking words apart from 'ciao' and 'grazie' and making sentences was another. Realising that her mind spaced out, she zoned back into the real world and realised that he was grinning at her.

"Cosa?" Another handy Italian word. He pointed in one direction and it dawned on her that someone was calling her which caused pink flushes to appear on her cheeks as she bowed a quick bow in thanks before rushing off to the person who called her.

He knows how to speak in English, she knew that, but she had been so adamant to speak to him in Italian prior to knowing this info that it kind of seemed impossible for him to speak to her in English. That was all from her perspective anyway, she didn't know the real reason why he never talked to her in English.

And like always, she spent almost half her time trying to catch a glimpse of the boy with the curly hair and her peers probably caught her on one or two occasions but they joked lightly about it and thankfully he wasn't anywhere near them.

Around sunset she got tired and joined the group who were gathered around a fire and she plopped down next to a pile of beach towels. Everyone was talking in a mixture of Italian and English but it was mainly Italian and she did her best to keep up with the rapid flow of words and gave the occasional necessary laugh here and there so as not to seem too out of place.

A hoodied figure sat next to her so that the towels were now between them and when she looked to her right, she realised it was him. Her heart thumped just a notch faster and she pulled herself into a crossed-leg sitting position on instinct which caused their knees to bump and she immediately apologised but he said it was fine so she sat frozen for the next two minutes, trying to calm herself down and not thinking too much about the fact that their knees are touching each other.

He didn't say anything or move away but instead conversed naturally with the rest of the people so she was able to relax after awhile and started to tune back into the conversation again. Leaning back, she used her hand and arm to support herself by planting them into the towels and then she started adding bits of words to the conversation, mainly content just by listening to the sentences flowing freely around them.

Drowsiness started to attack her eyes (and apparently everyone else's) and she was about to doze off when something warm made contact with her hand and at once her eyes popped open and the object jumped slightly. It was his hand.

She wasn't looking at him but she knew that he was definitely looking the other way as well and she felt grateful that in the partial dimness of the evening, her blush was concealed.

Her hand remained where it was, unmoving, and as much as she denied it to herself, she realised that she wanted to hold  that hand, the one that was still hovering on top of hers, the one that she could feel was slightly trembling. The atmosphere between them was tense but it seemed as though no one else felt it and those few seconds of hesitation felt like centuries.

When he eventually realised that she wasn't going to move or flinch away, his hand settled on top of hers, his palm fitting neatly with the back of her hand. It paused just a second longer before settling down as though to give her a chance to flee, uncertain with what this meant to her.

Beer was handed out but she refused while he accepted a plastic cup. No one noticed their hands clasped together beneath the beach towels. Now, with the beer having found its way into several stomachs, the conversation was reignited and everyone suddenly had more stories and jokes to share. All she did was smile and laugh though, as weak as the laughs were, while he contributed some of his own almost as easily as before but now with a small touch of something like shyness or embarrassment in his tone.

It felt wonderful, the sensation that was ripping through her from the mere touch of his skin and when their fingers grazed slightly, she felt certain that her blush turned a shade darker. Him? She had no idea. She didn't dare to look in his direction.

She suddenly felt the pressure on top of her hand decrease slightly and in a moment of subconscious panic, she held onto his fingers with her own, causing his hand to stop and to shiver slightly. When she realised her daring act, she promptly let go and bowed her head even lower, certain that her face looked like a tomato.

So when his fingers slipped between hers a second later, she turned her head towards him in surprise and they caught each other's eyes shining with a pinch of hope. He gave her a reassuring grin before turning his slightly blushing face away, tightening his grip on her and she responded by gently brushing her thumb against his several times.

She liked the warmth which seemed to seep out from his hand to hers and back to him in a cycle, a small dance of pulsating heartbeats which made the flurries in her stomach turn into tornadoes.

She enjoyed the fact that this was a small secret they both shared even though it was noticeable had anyone paid any attention to them. They were in their own world, silently realising their mutual feelings for each other.

And although both of them didn't know it, they were both hoping that this moment could be elongated just a bit more, that maybe there will be more chances like this to encounter after this one ends.
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And how was that for storytelling eh? I could probably make some money by writing trashy love novels that only giggly teenagers would read if I do say so myself.

I have no idea why I really wrote that story out. It's the first time that I've ever done that and I don't even really like him or find him really interesting. If anything, I should have written a story about one of the deep crushes I had for celebrities but no.

It's not like I'd even know how I'd react if that would ever happen to me but I'd like to think that maybe one day I'll get to experience something similar.

I feel sick from eating too much Nutella. =-=;

I really need to work out tomorrow hahahaha, even if I don't really feel like it tomorrow morning.

I saw him online several times on Facebook today in the chat box (which is a first) but as tempted as I was to start a conversation with him, I kept thinking that he must be chatting with someone else more important and I'd only be a bother to him. Besides, Skye told me to not do the first move and I'll listen to her even though Rainie asked me to do the exact opposite.

"It all depends on the situation."

He shared a picture of a really sexy girl in the afternoon and I somehow felt jealous and it made me feel like I should really try to get a good body. The only good thing that I can somewhat conclude from that is that he's single cause I'm pretty sure that taken guys wouldn't do that on the account of disapproval from their girlfriend but you just never know.

Okay, it's time to sleep and wow is it early. Hopefully I will work harder to become more beautiful on the inside out. And to stop snacking on Nutella too much hahahahaha.