When I Fell

Falling in love is tricky. There are so many movies and books that make it seem so easy and passionate and right but in the real word it's confusing and exciting and fun and frustrating and in the real world, things get in the way.

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49. IL

Ruby's point of view

We lie there in his bed later on that night. The window is open wide to let fresh air in but we're under the covers because it's quite cold. The only light in the room is coming from his little mood lamp on his desk that is slowly fading from one colour to the other. We're asking each other whatever question comes to mind, speaking fairly quietly even though there's nobody around. It's one of those moments I want to stay in forever.

"What was your moody teenager phase like?" he asks. 

I laugh. "I didn't have one."

His eyes widen. "You didn't?" 

"No. I just never saw the point or felt the angst. What was yours like?" 

He chuckles to himself, shaking his head. "It was awful. I died my hair 'navy', that's what I called it, it was just blue that didn't show up very well because my hair is so dark. All I wore was these weird, alternative t-shirts, black skinny jeans and Dr Martens that hurt my feet and I listened to heavy metal music loud through my earphones even though I hated it. I think I even wore eyeliner for a couple of days there."

I laugh, nestling into his side more. "I'm glad you're not like that anymore. Apart from the skinny jeans. They're still a thing."

"They're still a thing because they suit me."

"Do they, though?" 

He sits up, looking at me. "Are you serious? Don't they suit me?" 

I laugh, pulling him down next to me and resting my head on his chest again. "They suit you great. Calm down."

"It's your go." he says, changing the subject but he's smiling. 

I think for a moment. "Who did you lose your virginity to?" 

He laughs out loud at this one. "I do not want to tell you that story."

I grin, propping myself up on one elbow to look at him. "I want to hear that story."

"No." he groans, hiding his face and laughing still. "No, I can't, it's humiliating."

"Go on!" I urge him, taking his hands away from his face. 

He raises an eyebrow. "Fine. I was fifteen. I was going through the navy hair, heavy metal phase. I was at a rock festival by myself because nobody else would go with me and I'd begged my parents to go for ages and ages. I ended up hanging out with this group of girls and I took a particular fancy to one of them and we ended up... doing the deed in her tent. It was horrible and awkward and she had piercings in weird, weird places and I didn't know what I was doing and she didn't enjoy it, to put it nicely. Then it turns out it wasn't even her tent which was just awesome when the real tent owners came back. It all made for a very uncomfortable evening."

I laughed through that entire story. He shoves me, telling me to stop being mean and how it wasn't his fault and how he was only young but I can't stop laughing. Compared to the god he is now, it's hard to believe he used to be so awkward and embarrassing.

"Shut up!" he insists, blushing. "How was I to know?" 

I manage to stop laughing and lie back down next to him. "You're a twat."

"Well I'm not any more." he says, defensively but he grins, shaking his head. "My go. Okay, who was your first crush on? Like your first serious crush." 

"Oh my god." I say, remembering. "He was gorgeous. Well back then, anyway, it was in eighth grade. He was called Dylan Lockard and he had these dimples and he was so tanned and I always had a thing for his arms and his hair was all swished across his forehead and he was just really hot but we went to different high schools and I haven't seen him since. I bet he grew up nicely."

"I doubt it." Chris says, dryly. 

I raise an eyebrow. "Is somebody a tiny bit jealous?" 

"I'm just saying, the people who are attractive in eighth grade don't grow up to be attractive. I was a skinny, spotty, greasy mess in eighth grade, that's why I'm such a catch now."

"Shut up." I laugh, reaching over him and grabbing his iPad. "I'm gonna find Dylan on Facebook."

"I don't think you should. He's going to be ugly. I don't want to ruin your perfect image of him."

I ignore him and find Dylan's profile and Dylan did grow up very nicely indeed. I have to admit, my heart flutters just a little bit and I sigh happily, scrolling through his pictures. 

"See?" I nudge Chris. "What did I tell you?" 

"I think he's ugly." he shrugs.

"Oh shut up." I laugh and he grins, taking the iPad off me and putting it away. I settle into his side again and he kisses my forehead.

"It's late." he says. "What time do you have to be back at yours tomorrow?" 

"About one pm." I tell him.

"Okay." he kisses my head. "See you in the morning."

"Night."

"I love you, Rubes."

"Love you too." I kiss his cheek and we fall asleep moments later.

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