more of this thing I'm writing.
I wrote another scene of this, except it's jumping at least halfway through the plot. It's a major scene, and I'm quite proud of it, so I thought I'd share. Feedback is like hugs and love. :3
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A hand shakes him awake.
He groans quietly, stretching a little.
"Barney?" Someone's fingers brush his fringe back. "Barney, wake up."
He moans slightly, eyes flicking open. "Cassie?"
"Sorry," she squeaks, and he finds her palms pressed to her cheeks; he tugs at them.
"Cassie, what's wrong?" He sits up carefully and places her hands in her lap.
"Do you remember when I said," she whispers (he can make out her eyes in the dark - please don't stop looking at me like that). "That maybe I wanted to be ruined?"
"Yeah," he says, his voice just as quiet.
"I think I meant," she says, the words rushing from her in one breath. "That I wanted someone to ruin me."
"Oh," He slumps a little. "Hang on... oh."
He barely catches her slight nod.
"I wonder who'd want to ruin me?" she breathes, fingers pulling at her hair. "I'm halfway there already."
He swallows, because there has been many an occasion where he'd rather have liked to 'ruin' her. Then he catches the faint scent of alcohol, and frowns.
"Cassie, are you drunk?"
She shakes her head. "Just one vodka. Then someone tried to feel me up."
He balks in alarm and touches her fingers. "Are you all right?"
"Now I am," she says, her voice barely audible, and his heart leaps pathetically.
"Cassie," he slips his hand into hers. "I know your name."
She stares at him, grip on his hand suddenly tight.
"Your name," he repeats, something pulling the corners of his mouth upwards. "Hello, Cassidy."
Her eyes flutter shut. "How long?"
"Two years."
"You waited."
"For - for - yeah, I waited," he looks away, just catching her eyes slowly opening again.
"For me?" she reaches up and presses his cheek, and his secret is out.
"Y-yeah, I - I really," he scrunches his eyes closed. "You're really -"
"Barney, look at me," she hisses frantically, and she sounds so distressed that he obeys immediately. "Tell me."
"I don't know how to," he mumbles lamely, and she smiles slightly.
"You do, lovey, you do," she whispers, and her voice sounds thick. "I promise."
He breathes in shakily. How on earth do you say something like this to someone you've known so long? When friendship is all you've ever known? How do you tell someone that you don't think you can ever feel this way about anyone, because it makes you feel weak but strong and it's so powerful and real you can almost reach out and touch it (her)?
"I think," he begins. "I think I must've always felt like this, I s'pose."
The silence of the night was broken repeatedly by the pummelling of his heart.
"Like you're really special," he continues nervously. "And important. To me."
Her eyes are so warm.
"You're my best friend," he fidgets. "In the whole world. But sometimes..."
"Sometimes?" she prompts, slightly breathless.
"I wish I could. You know," they are close enough for him to bump his forehead against hers gently. "Say things to you, and - and maybe hug you a bit more, and, stuff like that."
"You want to snog me," she grins, and she looks happy. He flushes, very embarrassed, but it's okay.
"Cassie," his hand curves over her cheek. "Is it all right? To feel like this?"
Her eyes brim with something, and she knots the fingertips of her free hand in his hair. "'Course it is, dear."
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..aaaaand, I'm evil. :3 there's actually more after this but I hafta go watch a movie with my mumma in like five minutes, so. I'll type up the next bit tomorrow. Any thoughts would be LOVE, ya know? :3