Be Loved

"Hello?" The nonchalant tone asks; that deep, rich accent dipping each syllable in a vat of something poisoned. It was sickening, but not in the bad way. What was sickening, was that you were so dependent on it. On him.

"You were very impolite just now," you reply, shoving the cart down through the produce section. That voice of his does things to you; and going weeks without hearing it directed at you makes it even more potent.

"Was I?" It questions, "I hadn't noticed."

"You were."

There's a moment of silence where you're both waiting for the other to start talking. For the first time that you'd ever known Tom, it was awkward. The thought scares you a bit more than it should.

"Would it make it better if I asked if I could come to Cora's later?"

His voice had taken on another property. It was pleading, sorry, and anxious. There's this twinge in the pit of your stomach that makes you regret chastising him.

"It might." You say, attempting not to smile. If you smile, that means that he's gotten to you. You can't let him get to you.

There's a laugh on his end, followed by, "Can I come over to Cora's later, Jo?"That twinge in your stomach deepens at the sound of your name.

How were you supposed to say no? Even though you were afraid of the subject being brought up about the whole... kissing thing.... You still wanted to see him. For a split second, you think that you'd like to see him even if he rejects you.

"I guess...." You trail, throwing a box of popcorn into the cart, "But only if you're nice. Cora's parents won't let just anyone come over, you know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cora, needless to say, was ecstatic. Yelling and screaming and fangirling all over the house until her mother, Rachel, got her to calm down. Rachel and Cora's father, Greg, were going out for the night and so, you three would have the house to yourselves until twelve.

Cora's living room was light green, and had a long brown couch on the far wall. A coffee table sat directly in front of that and then the large plasma screen television was on the opposite wall. There was an armchair, though no one ever used it, and a big shaggy, cream rug covered the middle of the hardwood floor. Knick knacks and books were laying on every inch of available space, including the few dark bookshelves that lined the walls. The doorway to the kitchen was to the side of the couch, the front door on the other end, it's large door painted cream like the rug.

You always felt it was a homey place; somewhere to escape to when you were feeling troubled, a safe haven. The books were a great comfort. Leaning over the front of the coffee table in the floor, the only thing that was missing were a few pencils and a notebook for drawing and you'd be set.

Tonight, however, the safe haven was to become a battleground. Figuratively and literally. Not only were you going to be watching the Avengers (with him), you knew, for a fact, that Cora had about twenty board games all ready to go in the event that anyone wanted to play.

Wonderful.

Not that you didn't like games; that wasn't it at all. It was something you and your family would do every time you got together. No, it was because he was going to be here. And that was something you weren't sure if you could handle.

Over the few weeks after that kiss (that neither party ever brought up), you'd felt this little twinge that had never been there before. It was odd, and strangely comforting, yet you knew it wasn't a good thing. Every time Tom entered your thoughts, which was more often that wanted, it would burrow deeper and deeper. You knew it was just waiting to attack at any moment.

It was overwhelming sometimes. Especially when you were texting him. It was as if he had his own personal string to you, and pulled it just because he could (without even knowing what it did).

So, that evening, when he walks in the door... you almost don't breath. Afraid that even the tiniest motion or sound will alert him and make him look at you. That's something you don't understand either; you don't want him to see you. You'd give anything if he wouldn't.

Instead, it's you staring at him. His hair is shorter than it used to be. He looks worn out, tired, but happy. Jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket, boots. His long, pale fingers are wrapped around a pizza box. Cora runs to greet him, you notice, out of the corner of your eye.

You don't know what she's said. Not even registering her tone of voice. But his? His. You hear every word. Every delectable syllable uttered from his lips, but you don't understand the language he speaks. It's like you don't know English anymore, because he has a way of speaking that's all his own.

One hand unlatches from the box and taps the top, the thudding noise reaching your ears. Can sounds be blurred? Because if they can, they are. Everything that isn't him has completely vanished.

And he turns, so elegantly, like every move his makes is a fluid. This is when you take the time to memorize his face. High cheekbones, beautiful lips, high forehead, and enchanting eyes. Those eyes- you'd love to be lost in them every second of every minute of the day. But they aren't as bright as you remember them. They've lost some of their light, their humor. You dare to wonder if something's wrong. What he's hiding. What's happened to make his gorgeous eyes not shine like they should.

You want to fix the problem more than anything else in the world.

"Hello, love."

His voice and easy smile take you back; scare you. You don't think that your heart has ever beaten faster than this moment (except when he decided to kiss you and you lost all sense of reality). You're sure that your cheeks must be beet red, that he notices how your hands are shaking, and that your breathing is uneven.

It's all you can do to reply with a stable, normal, grinning, "Hey Tom."

"Long time, no see," he says, wringing his hands and pursing his lips.

Before you're able to continue and give him a reply, Cora comes bounding back through the kitchen doorway and starts talking.

"Okay, so, I've got the Avengers, courtesy of Thomas," she nods to Tom, and starts counting on her fingers, "fifteen million board games, pizza... also courtesy of Thomas. Popcorn, soda, water, tea, hot chocolate, chips, little mini chocolate bars..."

"Alright Cora," you interrupt, seeing the giddy face of delight appear on both her and Tom, "you have lots of junk food."

"That I do!" She squeals, jumping up and smiling like a kindergartener, "Movie first?"

Tom had brought pepperoni pizza, which was consumed within ten minutes by the three of you. Cora insisted that the movie not be turned on until everyone had eaten and popcorn had been made, so there was an entire amount of time where you had to make small talk with a man that you'd originally called your best friend. Now he was something else entirely.

Especially when he was only wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and socks.

It was difficult trying to pay attention to every word that came out of his mouth, mostly because he was eating at the same time. You kept getting distracted by the way that he chewed his pizza, or when he'd clear his throat from laughing at something Cora said. At one point, some sauce landed on his chin and it was the hardest thing in the world not to lean over and wipe it off.

Or kiss it off.

Yeah. That's the better option.

You feel your face get hot at the thought of just kissing him right here and now. His lips gliding so easily over your own, his hands at your waist and in your hair...

"Jo, why are you blushing at me saying that I had to hop a plane here over night because they sent me the wrong schedule?"

Your eyes widen, snapping back to the conversation, "What?" You stumble, face turning even redder, "Sorry... I was thinking about something else."

"Obviously," he chuckles, winking at you for no reason.

"Ooh," Cora bites her bottom lip, smiling like a loon, from her seat in the floor, "I know what she's thinking about."

What? How could Cora possibly know anything about... Tom?"What?" Both you and Tom say at the same time, except he was seriously wanting to know, and you seriously wanted to make her shut up.

"I'm assuming that she's daydreaming about this guy she's head over heels for," Cora waves it off with her hand, "She'd only blush like that if it were about him."

"Shut up," you say, raising your eyebrows at your little cousin.

"What?" She asks, faking innocence.

"Who?" Tom says at the same time.

Cora hears the question and submits an answer before you're able to, "I don't know, but apparently he's the nicest person she's ever met."

There's a brief moment of silence before Cora explodes the next question, "IS HE NICER THAN TOM??"

"Yeah, Jo! Is he nicer than me?!" Tom yells a bit more quietly than Cora, but still posses that crazed look that the young girl has. If it weren't all so serious to you (because the object of your affection is sitting across from you on the other end of the couch), you'd be laughing your head off.

Instead, you stand nervously, and cross in front of Tom toward the kitchen, "Does anybody want anything while I'm up? No? Well then." And then you're in the safe haven of Cora's kitchen.

Taking deep breaths and counting to ten had never worked so well your whole life. Leaning over the counter top with your head in your hands, you wonder why you ever told Cora that secret.

You hear Tom excuse himself from Cora, asking if she wants anything from the kitchen. You assume she says no, because not ten seconds later, he's striding in with two dirty plates and two cups to put in the sink.

"Don't want to talk about it?" He guesses aloud, running some water over the dishes. He doesn't look at you.

"Not especially," you answer, feeling that twinge in your stomach dig deeper in.

He sighs, "I understand that," his long fingers shut the water off, "and I don't blame you."

"Thanks," you reply softly, standing up to your full height and depositing your own dishes to the sink.

"But," he pauses, turning to look at you, the smallest smile imaginable on his face, "I hate to pry... but curiosity is killing this cat, so, could you tell me who it is?"

That twinge is turning into a dagger now.

"No..." you trail, teasing him, "I don't think I can."

You should know that he's never one to give up, "A hint?"

Considering what kind of hint to give him, you nod slowly, pursing your lips and crossing your arms over your chest. Then it hits you.

Maybe he'd be able to figure it out on his own so you wouldn't have to say it out loud.

"I met him at work."

"That's the only hint I get??" Tom's eyes widen, "There's like, fifteen hundred men that could be!"

You feel smart, "But only one who's stolen me."

"Oh, ha. Ha. Ha," he laughs dryly, "I'm so sure you've been stolen."

You take the moment to fully appreciate his height, and whack him on the chest as you pass to get some popcorn from the cabinet.

"Do you want popcorn?" You smirk, opening the box.

At your question, his tone shifts to one of humorless seriousness, "Only if you use the popcorn button. Because that's what it's for."

"What?" You laugh, curious as to what he's getting at.

"It's a long, sad story that involves twenty nine year old me and my sisters. When we have more time, I'll tell you then," he explains, "But until then... just use it and don't question."

Met him at work. Met him at work. Met him at work...

Tom just sits, trying his hardest to keep a mask of indifference on his face.

He's disappointed beyond belief. And is continually repeating to himself that it shouldn't be that big a deal. She hasn't called you in weeks. You shouldn't be surprised. Try to move on.

But he can't.

And he's so scared of rejection. Especially now.

He really likes her. Much more than he thinks he should, and it's becoming distracting. Being one to normally embrace his emotions, Tom feels lost. Like a fish out of water. A high school boy with a crush and braces and pimples and is just scared to death to ask the pretty girl out. Which is hilarious, because she's a nerd too.

Met him at work.

Every time he thinks he's found a way around it, a new obstacle pops up. And the one for tonight happens to be that he's extremely jealous. The green eyed monster has overtaken his sight, clouding all previous judgment. There are so many times that he forces himself to stay on his end of the couch and not venture closer toward her.

The ending of the movie seems like a death sentence to him, because it means he'll have to go. Although Cora had games to play, he needs to get back to the hotel to sleep for work in the morning. So, he'll go and have to spend the next few weeks without a call from this woman who he's become so attached to. Without seeing her. Without making her laugh, or smile, or tease her. Before the credits even begin rolling his heart drops.

Why does he feel so dependent on her?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The movie ends, and you can tell from the way that Tom's getting antsy that he's going to have to leave. You know Cora won't be entirely happy about this, but really, like you, she wants what's best for Tom.

"I'm sorry, Cora, but I'm afraid I must be off," he sighs, slapping his hands on his knees and standing.

"Awww," Cora whines, "But we haven't played Monopoly yet!"

He laughs that wonderful "Ehehehe" before going to where she's sitting and messing up her hair with his hand.

"Maybe another time, dear," he smiles and heads for the door, slipping his jacket on and then his boots.

Both you and Cora get up from where you're sitting; she runs to him, while you walk slowly.

He opens his arms for a hug from your cousin and you hear him say, "Goodnight, dear. Be kind, make good grades, and eat your vegetables."

You know Cora's dying on the inside. You just know it.

Then he lets go of her, her face beet red like your's was earlier. And you notice that his arms are waiting for you. You enter them without a moments hesitation, thankful that for some part of the night that you get to touch him the least little bit.

He's so warm. And his hugs always encircle you fully, making you feel like you're wrapped up more tightly than you'll ever be again. It's a safety that you've only felt with him.

"Goodnight, love," he whispers, just like with Cora, "Call me soon."

And he breaks the hug much sooner than you want.

"What?" You can't help but say, willing him to stay longer, "I don't get a set of instructions like Cora?"

"Oh," he smiles, and you see his eyes take on that bright quality they were missing for half a second. His hands go to your shoulders, pulling you closer to him, face to face.

"Love. Be loved," he whispers, "And never take no for an answer."

He places a kiss on your forehead; it lasts a second longer than it should and the both of you notice. A lazy smile takes over his features, and he lets go and starts opening the door.

"Thanks for having me over Cora. I had a marvelous time."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Alright, sooooooo. Yes. My silly Wattpad editing window is being mean to me. :(Do tell me what you think, darlings!! It means sooo much!!