9 Midnight Black

We walked side by side in silence, just enjoying each other's company for a bit. Even with the music blaring through the woods, I felt at peace. It was something I hadn't felt in a very long time.

When we'd reached far enough that the music wouldn't hinder a conversation, Ian spoke, "I didn't think you'd actually show up." He was probably referring to the text I'd sent him about not wanting to come for the party.

"I wasn't going to, but Scarlet dragged me here," I rolled my eyes and he nodded in understanding, knowing Scarlet fairly well. In the end, none of my fears came to life, but I'd still rather be at home lounging on my couch. "Plus, I kind of had to because of Fyn."

"Oh yeah, you're pretty close to him, right?"

"Childhood friends," I said in answer.

"Ah... that makes sense," he mused to himself, but I didn't quite understand.

"What does?"

He glanced at me, "I remember thinking you and Fynley were a thing. But guess it was just as friends."

So he noticed stuff like that too?

I raised my eyebrows, a smile taking over my lips, "were you that interested in me back then?"

"You were kind of infamous," he breathed out a laugh at my teasing, "It was hard to ignore the rumours." Well, he wasn't exactly lying about that. Even now, my reputation precedes me. But the fact that he remembered it at all is a pleasant surprise.

"Uh-huh." My smile stayed on for another moment, before I decided to explain, "Fyn's always been a friend, but I can see why people would think that."

"How many guys have you actually dated, then?" He asked, managing to make it sound like a casual question. I had an idea of what it was leading to, but I didn't show it.

"Not a lot," I told him, thinking back to it. "Obviously I couldn't these past two years, and I only had one sort of boyfriend before that. We 'dated'," I air-quoted the word, "but it was for like two weeks and we didn't even talk for half of it." Well, we weren't really talking because we were too busy doing other things, but I wasn't about to tell him that.

His lips pulled into a half smirk, "sounds interesting."

I raised an eyebrow, challenging him, "so you're really experienced, huh?"

He laughed, shaking his head, "I'm not. I haven't even had a two week fling. You're way ahead of me in that department."

"Impossible," I deadpanned, my mouth hanging open, I'm pretty sure. He had too good of a face to not attract any girls. I knew people found him attractive even though they didn't like his personality. There's no way he couldn't get a girl.

"No, I'm serious," he insisted, laughing harder when he saw my expression. "I've never found anyone interesting enough to be with."

It suddenly made a lot more sense.

"So you're just picky, then?"

"I don't know," his voice got quieter, and he glanced at me sideways. "I think you're pretty interesting."

I stopped in my tracks to stare at him. Did he actually just say that?

He stopped too, an innocent look on his face. "What?"

This guy...

"You know what."

He merely smiled in response, knowing exactly what I was thinking.

Now that I was actually looking at him, his sharp features were so clear, even in the dark. The midnight sky was reflected in his nearly black eyes, like an endless abyss. The intensity of his eyes on mine was almost too much to bear, his expression hard to read.

I'm not sure when, but he'd moved closer to me. Or maybe it was me who'd moved towards him, I couldn't tell you which. We stared quietly at each other for a few moments, a layer of tension in the air as we each waited for the other to make a move.

He was the first to break, reaching out his hand to brush off a few strands from my forehead, tucking them behind my ear. Instead of pulling his hand back, he rested it there, the warmth from it spreading across my cheek. The music from the party faded into the background, and all I heard was my heart beating out of my chest.

His eyes lingered down to my lips for a moment, before he looked back into my eyes. "Can I?"

Even now, I was too prideful to simply say yes. I shrugged coyly, looking up at him through my lashes, "if you want to."

He chuckled at that, and I swear it was one of the most beautiful things I'd heard. How could he be this attractive without even trying?

"Thanks?" he suddenly said, a look of pure surprise in his eyes.

I, on the other hand, was a bit confused. "Huh, for?"

"You just called me attractive," he said, wearing his signature amused smile.

But that didn't make sense. I was sure I hadn't said that out loud. There's no way I wouldn't notice.

Suddenly, he pulled away from me, moving so he wasn't even close enough to touch. Standing back with his eyes wide, he asked, "you didn't?" his voice shook with his words, and I found myself on edge too.

"Ian..." I trailed off, watching with slight concern as he panicked. "What's wrong?"

"Fuck!" he cried, pure frustration in his voice as he lifted his hands to cradle his head. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, but now, it was for a completely different reason.

What the hell just happenned?