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Laid there looking up at the stars with my girl next to me, I couldn’t have been happier. I couldn’t imagine a single moment in my whole life where I’d been more calm or relaxed.
“… and that one’s Orion, the hunter,” she continued to tell me about the stars, stories of constellations and the planets. “And if you look up there,” she said, pointing to the brightest star in view, “that one’s Venus.”
“I thought Venus was a planet?” I questioned, the idiot I am.
“Yes, dumbo, it’s the only planet visible from earth, on a night like this, you can see her in her full glory.”
I felt my face turn red. If I knew half as much as her, I’d be a certified genius. But of course that’s why she’s the one attending Oxford at the end of this summer, as she has done for the past 3 years. I rolled onto my side, and moved my arm, trying to get into a more comfortable position.
She turned away from her beloved stars for a second to smile at me, quickly gazing back skywards, and I returned it just as warmly, lingering on her features for a few moments.
At 5’7″, she was a couple of inches shorter than me, her short, light brown hair reaching just past her shoulder blades. She had freckles everywhere, on her bare arms, her thin stomach and even on her ankles, visible because of the brightly coloured sandals she was wearing. In an old, white vest top, and a pair of slightly torn black leggings, she looked perfect. God-like, in fact.
I dreaded the end of this summer. After just six short weeks of seeing her again, I had fallen even deeper in love with her, and the end of summer meant the end of freedom, the start of work again for me and the continuation of her University course in Astrology. She had always been the interesting one. Her going to one of England’s most famous Universities to do possibly one of the most difficult and strangest courses, me staying in a scratty little town working a dead-end cafe job six nights a week. Right from when we were 15 years old, she had strange interests, enjoyed things most other people would consider boring, but somehow she always managed to get me involved, to keep my interest, an amazing feat considering I have the attention span of a goldfish.
“What you thinking?” she turned to me, half whispering up towards my face.
“Not a lot.”
“Come off it! You’re my best friend, I can tell when something’s bothering you.”
I looked into her curious eyes, sky blue in the day, but in the dark of night almost black, a deep, rich midnight blue, coincidentally my favourite colour.
“I’m okay. Just don’t want to see you go. Again.”
“I hate leaving you. You know that as well as I do.”
“I know. It just hurts.” My voice cracked at the end of the sentence.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing, forget I said anything.”
She gave me a stern, questioning look, demanding me to tell me what was wrong. To surrender my best-kept secret of over 4 years. I looked back into those mesmerising eyes to see my gaze returned just as tender. One of her eyebrows raised bahis firmaları questioningly, and I felt a lump in my throat.
Turning over again onto my stomach, I pretended to be interested in a certain blade of grass.
Twisting it in my fingers, I felt her small, soft hand gently stroking the small of my back. Tentatively at first, she traced gentle letters, words, over my back between my bra strap and the top of my jeans. Not realising what she was doing, I missed the first couple of letters, but still got the gist of what she was trying to say.
Two almost interecting lines connected right above my middle belt hoop. The letter V. Four gentle lines, three traced to my side making me shiver when they reached the edge, and a final one straight down making my leg twitch slightly. The letter E. Three more lines, then a circle, then a final curve. YOU. Her magic fingers left me feeling slightly drowsy amongst other things as she re-traced her sentence. I love you. Rolling over, I stared into her beautiful eyes, inches away from my own, still seeing that interrogative look.
After recieving no answer, she tried another tactic.
“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, you know what’ll happen.”
Knowing full well what she would do to me, a torture technique we had used on each other hundreds of times, I played dumb.
“And what would that be?” I asked, my eyes glinting with mischief.
“You’ve had it now!” She exclaimed loudly, grinning playfully and launching herself at me. Rolling out of her way, I reversed her attack, grabbing her hands and pinning them to the ground.
“What you gonna do now, eh?” I smiled, inches from her face. She pushed her head forwards, pressing her forehead against mine and my grip temporarily loosened, giving her chance to wiggle free.
She knelt, a metre or so away balanced on the balls of her feet with her fingertips barely touching the ground, and looked at me with the look a tiger gives its prey just before it goes in for the kill. Playful yet somehow letting you know of their impending attack.
I assumed the same position, staring right into her amazing eyes, feeling the same stirring sensation in the bottom of my stomach that I always get when I’m close to her.
And then she pounced. Landing on me and knocking me onto my back, we rolled down the hill we had been laid on, laughing hysterically. I reached the bottom first and before I got chance to get my breath back, I was abruptly joined by her crashing into my side with surprising force.
“Owwww” I moaned as I rubbed my hip, the point of her impact.
“You need talk! It was my head that hit you! Maybe if you were a bit fatter that wouldn’t have hurt me,” she joked, but I sensed a hidden compliment.
I laid there enjoying her warmness against my side. Because of her crash-landing, her arm was casually over my stomach, her hand just below my breast, her foot just on top of mine and chest pressed against my side.
That’s another thing about her. Her boobs. They are the largest boobs I have kaçak iddaa ever seen. At 19 years old and almost an F cup, they were truly gigantic. A perfect contrast to her thin figure, they stuck out miles, and were displayed perfectly. Her tops were never too low, but never failed to show the perfect amount of cleavage, pale, freckled, but absolutely beautiful. Even though she had the perfect figure though, I had never liked her for her body. I fell in love with her mind, her personality, her beauty and shapely figure were just an added bonus.
“It’s cold out here now the sun’s gone in, isn’t it?” she said, snapping me out of one of my frequent daydreams.
“Yeah.” I replied, and she cuddled up to me. I raised my arm, and she lifted her head, allowing me to place my arm around her shoulders. I gently rubbed the top of her arm and she squeezed my side, pressing her ample cleavage into my ribcage. I was enjoying this feeling of comfort and warmth too much to notice a couple of figures approach us.
Two girls and a boy, I recognised them as the “popular” kids from high school, two of which were now a stripper and one an ex-convict, at 20 years old, it was nice to see they had done something with their lives.
“‘Ere, look at these lesbos!” the young man shouted with a drunken slur. Tall, muscular and intimidating, I worried not for my own safety, but for hers, instinctively holding her closer, and feeling her do the same.
“Oh fuck ’em Greg, let’s go back to mine and get shit-faced,” one of the girls replied.
“But it’s funny, Jen,” he said, looking at us with a sneer, and I saw crimson blood dripping down his face, probably the result of one too many drinks and another man talking to one of his “birds” as he liked to call them.
“Just leave us.” my girl said, surprising me. She wasn’t usually a confident person, she would rather stay conspicuous and melt into the background than speak out and voice her opinion on things. In a way I was glad she was like that, if she was outgoing, somebody would have noticed how beautiful and bubbly she is and had the courage to be more than friends with her. Not like me.
“What’s your problem with homosexuals, Greg? And you two bitches, what’re you looking at? Go on, sling your hook, we don’t want any trouble.”
“What if I want to stand ‘ere and look at you two? It’s a free country, I can do what I fucking want, and you two little carpet munchers can’t stop me!” He exclaimed, his voice raising to a yell at the end.
“Come on, let’s go home and fuck!” The other girl said, “Let these two nerds get it on in a bush, who gives a damn when my pussy’s waiting for your massive cock”
Greg smiled, and grabbed her arse. “Alright then slut, let’s go.” They turned to leave.
Once they were out of sight, she turned to me. “Idiots. I hope their livers rot or they catch one too many STDs and die.”
Her face inches away from mine again, I had a sudden burst of bravery. Whether it was because I could hardly see her in the dark, or whether it was her positioning against kaçak bahis me, I got up the guts to ask her something that was on my mind from the encounter.
“Why didn’t you just say we’re not lesbians?”
“I don’t know. Probably didn’t want the whole ‘virgin’ tease again.”
Through high school she had been teased for being a virgin. She said she was waiting for the right person, whereas I lost my prescious virginity to somebody I’d only jsut met when I was drunk at a party. Upon sobering up slightly a few hours after, I realised what had happened and dragged myself to her house, where she comforted me and we fell asleep in each others arms.
I could tell, however, that she hadn’t been completely truthful. The one part of her I could clearly see, her midnight eyes, told me she was holding something back.
“And the real reason?”
I don’t know where my sudden confidence came from, but I later thanked myself for it.
“I don’t know. I suppose…” She trailed off, leaving her sentence unfinished.
She shuffled up slightly until her face was level with mine. Nose to nose, foreheads touching, she gazed right into my eyes from centimetres away with a look I’d never seen before.
“I suppose… I love you.”
“I love you too, you’re my best friend and-” I was beginning to ramble, as I always do when I tell her I love her, but she cut me off.
“No. I love you,” she said, with deeper meaning inferred, and with a look that almost asked permission, she leaned towards me and our lips touched.
Gently, she brushed my lips with hers and I enjoyed the tickling sensation. She then pulled away slightly, and moved her leg more over mine, so instead of just her foot on me, she was almost laid on top of me with her bottom half, my arm still around her shoulders. Suddenly, she withdrew, rolling over onto her other side, moving away from me, and I felt her start to shake slightly.
I gently placed my other arm over her, sliding my fingertips under her rib cage, and I slowly rolled her back over. There was a solitary tear rolling down her face.
“Why are you crying?” I asked, concern in my voice.
“I’ve ruined everything haven’t I?” she asked me.
“I should’ve just kept on hiding my feelings, but I’ve just had a fun night -” It was my turn to interrupt her.
“Feelings?” My tone contained a hint of excitement, which must have encouraged her to carry on.
“I’ve liked you for years. You make me feel so special, like I’m the only person that matters to you, like I’m all you care about. I know how stupid it is, and I understand if you’re a bit… But…” she trailed off, looking at me helplessly, that single, solitary tear stationary on her cheekbone.
“That’s true. You are all that matters to me. I’d give my life for you, Hayley, you’re perfect.” She smiled when I said her name. “How long have you…?”
“Years. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t. How do you…?”
“Feel about it?”
She nodded gently, her fringe tickling my brow.
“Like this.” I finished, movie-style, and leaned over, placing my leg over hers, entwining my fingers in her hair, and I pulled her face upwards slightly until our lips met once more.
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