Although what he said was true, it was hardly just the right thing Allison wanted to hear in the moment. Either way, she didn’t need a promise of forever then– perhaps one day, a promise of “until the very end” would come, and that was all she needed, really. But she knew Wyatt: she knew that these things could not, would not come easily for him, and that was okay, there was time. There was time. And she already knew that he would at least be her friend, steadfast and loyal, until the end of the line. They had made it this far. Allison breathed a sigh of relief. “Just- just checking.” A quick kiss. Alli slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze, as if searching for another spot where she could tangibly ensure he was there with her, returning her affection, verifying its reality.  “Good.”

“Good.” He repeated, clutching her hand and stupidly wondering what he should do next. It was all out there now, and the weight of her no longer bore down on him like a forbidden something. She would be his and he would be hers for as long as they lasted, a terrifyingly wonderful truth that sank into Wyatt’s skin like flowery kisses of perfume. For a long time he just looked at her, cheekbones and pink skin and his. “So like,” He laughed nervously. “I gotta see who wins the game...”

Allison laughed quietly. “Stupid? Why’s that?” she asked, tone light and teasing. Her nerves about his possible state of inebriation settled throughout her limbs, the tightness in her chest that held her heart in a firm grip loosened– she kissed him back over and over, smiling into his mouth as she pulled him closer, drawing herself into him. For just those moments, Allison wasn’t wrought with fear: fear as to what would happen if they were discovered, fear of what this meant for them, fear of him not returning her affections completely or at all. The music of the streets, the invigorating night air, the feeling of his lips on hers– all of it felt decisively too good to be true. “Are you- is this for real?” Allison questioned in disbelief, giddiness still in her words,  wide eyes meeting his beneath dark waves framing her petite face. 

He hesitated. “Because this won’t last forever. Nothing ever does.” It wasn’t said to hurt her, it just was. Like the  stars in the sky and the grass on the ground and the number of times a heart beat in a minute. And yeah, it pissed him off a little. Wyatt kind of wanted to kick the sidewalk and wander off to a bar so he could neutralize. But she was here and they were kissing, and it was so wonderful it made him feel like he had a million shards of glass in his gut and they were all trying to rip their way out. “Of course it’s for real.” Wyatt said so soft and low that his chest rumbled. It wasn’t often that he admitted things like that, but when he did it was seldom bullshit.

mini didn’t respond and instead let out a loud scream. it was dramatic and made her look bratty but she was annoyed, to say the least. “and here i thought the double bed was to treat me. FUCK.”

Wyatt wasn’t sure what he expected, but a scream wasn’t it. “Unfortunately not,” He winced, cordial all the same. “Here’s hoping yours isn’t a blanket hog.”

One moment he was there and the next he was here, very much here, his hands on her skin and his lips on hers. Allison let out a small breath of surprise before she leaned up into him and kissed him back, butterflies in her stomach very much alive. Warm and soft as she had remembered, as she’d remembered missing. Her nose gently brushed his as they moved against each other, lips moving against each other passionately, yet gently.  “Yeah,” she nodded once she broke away, biting her lip and flushing as she laughed with a joy only a first kiss– a first real kiss– could bring to her heart. “But shut up,” Allison breathed against his lips, although she smiled with a quiet excitement that was apparent in her cheeks. She looked at him with shining eyes, happiness dancing in her deep brown pair as she gazed at him through thick, fluttering eyelashes. Then a thought crossed her mind, already– well, still– wrought with doubt that he felt the same, that he felt anything more than friendship towards her at all. “You’re not drunk, are you?” she asked, eyebrows knitting as she inspected his facial features, searching for any signs of inebriation, remnants of any alcohol that could have driven him to do what he did. 

“Not drunk,” Wyatt said, forehead pressed against hers. “Just stupid.” If he put his hands in his pockets, they pull out silver linings? And if he kissed her again, would the powers that be decide to plow a bus right into the both of them? Things like this rarely went well for him, and their successful match was one Wyatt almost couldn’t fathom. His face was redder than it ever was, and every time he moved, he could feel blood cells and nerves racing through him. Her lips didn’t taste like vodka, and if she was going to reveal her evil plan, she hadn’t done so yet. So Wyatt kissed her again, and again, and again— hoping it would get his point across. 

“...that would be my fault. Er— the drinking, at least. I haven’t fought anyone yet.”

“i’m not a fan of this. i’m not a fan of this at all. i have enough issues with talking, and now whatever i say is going to be recorded and broadcasted all over the world. how amazing is that?” they sigh, chewing on their bottom lip. “this nine months can end soon.”

“There’s a ten minute video of every time I’ve stuttered this season, and my entire frat keeps sharing it to my facebook timeline. I reported them all for cyberbullying.”