Alex's POV
“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?” the sweet voice of Olivia ripped through my rampant imagination and dragged me back to reality. We were still just sat on the bed in the guest room; paintings scattered around us – all suddenly lifeless and dull in her presence. She turned and pulled a compact from her bag, using it to check herself, concerned by my staring. I had looked away by now, my head hung slightly. How could I let myself imagine such a scenario? Why on Earth would she ever kiss me back? The mere thought was just ridiculous and frankly laughable.

She was beautiful and sweet and funny and cute and radiated light, she was engaged and happy and had a life completely separate from mine. So why couldn't I just move on? I had thought I had completely recovered from her departure all those years ago, but now, realising that we had not kissed and that we would never kiss again, I felt like I was back in my old college dorm room, thinking about her, missing her, wishing things had turned out different.

“What's up with you?” she laughed lightly; the sound angelic, and elbowed me slightly.

Over the years I'd became good at putting on a facade, pretending I was completely not phased by the pain in my chest. I looked up and mustered up a smile, “Nothing, I just remembered I promised I would...” I paused very briefly, my mind searching frantically for any excuse, “take Jack to work,” I blurt out, getting to my feet.

“Oh,” she breathes, her face showed slight disappointment, or maybe I had imagined it.

“Yeah, sorry, uh...” I turn and grab my leather jacket, throwing it over my forearm and fishing my car keys out of the pocket, “You can stay here if you'd like, I won't be long,” I mumble, almost tripping on my words. I basically have no idea what I'm saying, just everything I think finds it's way out of my mouth.

“Oh,” she repeats, perking up slightly, “If you don't mind, I mean, I'd lo-”

“No, yeah, of course,” I fake enthuse, cutting her off and rushing out of the door just after I catch a glimpse of her face contort in a way which tells me what I had just done was extremely rude, but I had to get out of there.

I take the stairs all the way down to the parking lot and fumble with my keys as I try to speedily exit.I started the car up and sped off, not really heading anywhere in particular. On my drive I realise that Jack would already be working and Zack would most likely be with his girlfriend Amelia. Rian, however, would be – I check the digital clock on the dashboard; 10:30 PM – just getting home about now. So, I decide to make a detour from my drive to nowhere and head over to Rian's place, I park up and drop him a quick text announcing my arrival, which is pointless as it's only just about sent by the time I actually reach his door and ring the doorbell.

Rian answers wearing a white tank top and basketball shorts, his hair is wet and the smell of his deodorant is overpowering. In his hand he holds his phone, he looks at me bewildered and then glances back at his phone. “Wow, you're quick,” he mumbles, noting my distressed expression; he steps aside, I walk past him without hesitation and begin pacing back and forth in his hallway, my eyes glued to the floor.

“That's what she said,” I murmur, out of habit, completely deadpan.

“I wish she wouldn't,” Rian retorts, his voice mimicking my serious tone.

“I don't have much time,” I begin, my eyes never meeting his as I continue to walk up and down, “I need to get back,” I continue and I can almost feel Rian looking at me like I'm crazy.

“Okay, what?” he laughs, thumping me on the back and heading towards his kitchen, expecting me to follow.

“No, bro,” I stop pacing and look up.

“Oh?” he says, his voice lifting at the end like it's a question.

“I loved her so much man,” I finally breathe. I feel weak. I'd never said those words out loud until now, and now it was too late.

“What?” Rian's eyebrows furrowed, increasingly confused.

“Olivia! I loved her and she left and I thought I was over it because, dude, it was like 4 years ago, why would I not be over it? But I don't know if I am because I painted her naked and now she's sat on my bed and I kept thinking about kissing her but I can't do that because she's engaged and we don't really even know each other anymore and she'll be leaving again soon anyway and-” I had ran out of breath just as my voice had cracked.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Rian interjected before I could continue, “Slow down, you painted her naked?” Rian's face scrunched in confusion.

“That's what you got out of that?” I looked at him in disbelief; a judgemental gaze.

“Okay, okay,” Rian shook his head, trying his best to process all of the information I had just unloaded on him, I gave him a few seconds, “What?!” he repeated and I sighed deeply in exasperation.

“I told her I was taking Jack to work, I can't stand here and explain this all day,” I told him, my arms crossed over my chest.

“Why is she at your apartment?” his furrowed brow impossibly deep.

“I painted her naked and she wanted to see some more of my paintings,” I explained, knowing I was only further complicating things for him, “Listen, it's fine, I gotta go back.”

“Why did you tell her you were picking Jack up?” Rian continued, ignoring what I was saying and continuing to indulge his confusion, “Why did you have to leave at all?” a short pause, “You painted her naked?!”

I sighed once more and left him standing in his hallway in confusion, taking deep breaths as I made my way back into my car. Although he hadn't really helped me at all, he was right. I shouldn't have left. I was an adult. I could deal with my feelings. I didn't have to run away from situations that scared me. I should have just kissed her. Okay, no, that was one thought too far. But I definitely shouldn't have left.

By the time I made it home it was around 11:00 PM and I'd most likely have to take Olivia home, if she hadn't already left. The walk from the elevator to my door was excruciating and I took a deep breath before stepping inside. It was totally silent, just like any other time I walk through the door. I sighed, she'd left. I'd abandoned her in my home because I was a crazy person and now she'd left and would most likely never speak to me again. I slowly dragged my feet up the stairs and popped my head into the spare bedroom, expecting to just see the usual; paintings strewn on the floor and boring white, untouched bed sheets.

No POV
However, although paintings were still covering the floor, and also now portions of the bed, atop the bed sheets was a sleeping Olivia. Her chest raised and fell at a steady pace, her hands flopped beside her face, her feet dangling off the side; one heel had fallen off and was revealing her small, manicured foot. Beside her was the painting he had done of her, she must've been admiring it before she had drifted off.

Her small breaths were barely audible, but they were all that could be heard as Alex slowly crept into the room; trying his absolute best not to disturb her. He bent at the knee beside the bed and gently removed her other heel, standing them neatly beside her bag. Standing upright again, he took a brief moment to look at her. He'd never have a chance to truly look at her like this again and he wanted to ensure he'd made the most of it.

His memory of her looks had been foggy, but looking at her now it was like he had never went a day without seeing her face; her thin nose with a slight pointed tip; her large eyes and long lashes; her naturally rosy cheeks; her full, pink lips. He sighed, although not certain if it was a content sound or a discouraged one.

Ever so gently, he managed to carefully hook his arm under her dangling legs, before making quick work of placing his other under her waist; hoping not to disturb her. She stirred slightly in his arms, her eyes remaining tight shut, as he pushed the covers back and placed her in a more comfortable position. She stirred a little more, a few light grumbles escaping her mouth – causing Alex to smile. Just as he was about to tuck her in, her arm reached out and grabbed his shoulder, he flinched a little, not expecting the contact.

“Alex,” she whispered, her eyes ever-so-slightly open, although her lids were continuously threatening to fall, her grip on him was barely noticeable but his skin was on fire regardless.

“Yeah?” he whispered back, not really expecting a response. She looked so calm and peaceful, the sight was soothing. Her lazy grip fell to the back of his neck, in what seemed almost like an incomplete side hug.

“You painted me really pretty,” she breathed, almost inaudibly, a small smile on her face. Her voice was child-like, so innocent and pure, Alex couldn't help but reciprocate her smile – not that she could see anyway.

“Well, you made it incredibly easy,” he complimented, feeling confident that she most likely wouldn't remember this conversation.

She smiled wider in response, nuzzling into the pillow and pulling him – with 0 force – a little closer, “I wish Derek were more like you...” she trailed off, her voice slowly getting quieter before it shut off completely. Her hand went limp on his shoulder and he slowly placed it beside her before covering her with the bed sheets.

Alex tried his best to remain calm, although his heart was beating a million miles a minute. He had no idea what to think; did he brush her sleepy comment off as just that – a sleepy, unintelligible comment – or did he take that as a hint that maybe her life back home wasn't so great? Maybe her engagement wasn't perfect. Maybe this Derek guy was actually a jerk. Maybe Alex was perfect for her and they were destined to be together. Again, one thought too far, he thought to himself as he flicked off the light switch and left her to her slumber.

Notes