Post by Kovu McCormick on Jun 27, 2012 11:46:13 GMT -5
Why did things have to be so confusing? So complicated? So damn confusing and complicated? Why did he have to be head over heels for his best friend Kiara? Why did he get butterflies in his stomach whenever he was around her? Why had he spent all of Muggle Studies staring at her butt? And more importantly what on earth possessed him to sit anywhere near her?! Was he bloody idiot?! WHat was wrong with him?! This was one of the many times he wished he could just curl up under a rock somewhere and hide everything out. Kovu hated these feelings. But at the same time he loved them. He loved Kiara. He loved how she acted. How she was the first person, despite the fact that he had acted the worst to her, to become his friend when he had begun turning in their fourth year. He loved her body too. Her hair, her lips, her skin, everything. He wanted to hug her, caress her, kiss her. He had never felt like this about anyone and it scared the internal organs out of body.
The last class, muggle studies, had recently ended which flooded Kovu with relief. That was before he remembered he still had to escape the classroom and the hallway to avoid Kiara. He didn’t understand why. But he had to. He didn’t want to be rejected or say something stupid or make a fool of himself in anyway. He was afraid if he was with her he’d kiss her or do something of the sort. To top all of that his family knew about Kiara who was from a rival family. not just the rival family. The family and people he had been trained to one day kill and overthrow. But he couldn’t do that. He knew they weren’t bad. Not to mention despite him being good, more than half the school couldn’t see past his reputation or his past actions. Yeah, banging his head against the brick walls of the corridors sounded like a very pleasant idea about now.
Now he was in the corridors trying to hide from Kiara. To avoid her at all costs. Hiding wasn’t exactly the easiest thing when you were a six foot three, muscular, good-looking teenager. Curse his height. As he hid between two columns, he could see Kiara walk the opposite way. A flush of relief and longing filled his stomach. Yet . . . he wanted the sensation back already. He wanted to chase after her and ask her out. He wanted to grab her by the arm turn her around and kiss her while holding her in his arms. He felt like an idiot for it but . . . he couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t it was too much for him. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to follow her. Chase after her. Corner her. Tell her about his feelings. But he was afraid. Afraid of rejection or her reaction. What if she didn’t want to date? What if she didn’t even want to be friends? What if she said yes and they went out and broke up and things were never the same? What if she hurt him? Or worse. If he hurt her? Well, he’d have plenty of time to think all of it over in detention later.
The last class, muggle studies, had recently ended which flooded Kovu with relief. That was before he remembered he still had to escape the classroom and the hallway to avoid Kiara. He didn’t understand why. But he had to. He didn’t want to be rejected or say something stupid or make a fool of himself in anyway. He was afraid if he was with her he’d kiss her or do something of the sort. To top all of that his family knew about Kiara who was from a rival family. not just the rival family. The family and people he had been trained to one day kill and overthrow. But he couldn’t do that. He knew they weren’t bad. Not to mention despite him being good, more than half the school couldn’t see past his reputation or his past actions. Yeah, banging his head against the brick walls of the corridors sounded like a very pleasant idea about now.
Now he was in the corridors trying to hide from Kiara. To avoid her at all costs. Hiding wasn’t exactly the easiest thing when you were a six foot three, muscular, good-looking teenager. Curse his height. As he hid between two columns, he could see Kiara walk the opposite way. A flush of relief and longing filled his stomach. Yet . . . he wanted the sensation back already. He wanted to chase after her and ask her out. He wanted to grab her by the arm turn her around and kiss her while holding her in his arms. He felt like an idiot for it but . . . he couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t it was too much for him. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to follow her. Chase after her. Corner her. Tell her about his feelings. But he was afraid. Afraid of rejection or her reaction. What if she didn’t want to date? What if she didn’t even want to be friends? What if she said yes and they went out and broke up and things were never the same? What if she hurt him? Or worse. If he hurt her? Well, he’d have plenty of time to think all of it over in detention later.