“It was kind of hard not to with the window wide open.”
Shit, how did I not notice that?
“Is it true?” Alana scrutinizes me.
I chew the inside of my cheek, stalling to answer.
“Ryan?”
“Yes?”
“Is it true?” She presses.
“Is what true?”
She pins me with her eyes. No squirming my way out of this one.
“Yes, I love you,” I confess.
Alana turns as pale as her hair.; I think she may have even stopped breathing.
“Are you okay?”
“You can’t love me,” she suddenly blurts out. “You barely know me.”
“Alana, I’ve loved you since the first second I saw you.”
“No.”
“Yes. What’s wrong with me loving you?”
“Because I don’t know how to love you back,” she erupts.
“Of course, you do.” I step closer to her, and she backs up into the wall. “What you don’t know is what it’s like to receive love in return.” Yup. That’s it. Alana’s fundamental problem. She has plenty of love to give, but has no idea what it’s like to have love reciprocated.
“You think you know me so well.” She accuses.
“I do.” I’m standing so close to her now my chest is flush against hers. Her hair is wet, and her skin smells clean. It’s taking everything I have not to touch her. Really touch her. To show her how much I love her, with my hands and my mouth and my tongue.
I don’t try to understand it. Why I feel the way I do. I just go with it, accepting that whatever this is, it’s real.
Now all I need is for Alana to believe it, too.
“Alana?” I breathe her name.
“Ryan, please don’t,” she whispers painfully.
“Don’t what? Tell you how I feel? Tell you that I know what you’re afraid of?”
She squeezes her eyes shut like my words are unbearable. “I know you think you don’t understand love or emotion, but I also know you’re wrong. You’re just scared to let anyone in. You don’t have to hide from me, Alana. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She blasts open her eyes. “I’m not afraid of you hurting me, Ryan, I’m afraid of being weak.” The strain in her voice is beyond heart-wrenching. It’s as if she’s been brainwashed. No sentiment, no feeling, no existence.
“I thought I told you already, showing emotion isn’t weakness. It’s strength.” Alana doesn’t respond. She just stands there silently, her chest rising and falling as her breathing becomes more labored with every passing moment.
“Why are you doing this?” she finally asks.
“Because I want every single part of you. Not just a small piece.”