The Romantics

She didn't want to be comfortable yet. No matter how her heart still kept trying to convince her to let her guards down, just a little bit. To open the door a peek. Her mind kept trying to bring her back to reality. To pull her back and root her to earth so that she doesn't fly away too far and too quickly, before it became too late.

She liked his brand of cheesiness. How he'd turn up at her doorstep and tell her that he liked her "berry much", handing over a box full of her favourite berries and a single rose, and then proceeding to kiss her chastely on her cheek. She could never grow tired of his boyish charm.

But these things, these familiarity scared her. She didn't want either of them to come off hurt in the end. She wanted this to be her "end game", but she was too afraid to even dip her toe into water, let alone go in all the way. They were alike in so many ways, and were like perfect strangers in many others, and this bothered her.

She found herself sitting at the edge of the bed, holding her phone in one hand and the rose and the berries in the other. She looked away into the distance, thinking about what she was going to say to him.

Maybe this was an indicator of things to come.