Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5)

I think you’re standing on my heart, Bridgette.

Her hands meet my cheeks and she sighs. “I can’t believe I’m falling in love with such a stupid, stupid asshole.”

I take her face in my hands, and I kiss her.
I don’t kiss her fast.
I don’t kiss her rough.
I don’t kiss her hard.
I press my lips to hers with such delicacy; I want her to feel everything she’s ever deserved to feel at the hands of someone else. She deserves to feel beautiful. She deserves to feel important. She deserves to feel cared for. She deserves to feel respected. She deserves to feel like there’s at least one other person in this world who accepts her for exactly who she is.
She deserves to know how I feel, because I feel all of those things. And maybe a little more.

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right asshole yet.”

. “It’s hard to fall in love with assholes, Warren.”

Have you ever loved anyone, Bridgette?”

“Have you ever loved anyone, Bridgette?”
Silence. Complete silence until her voice shatters it like glass. “It’s hard to fall in love with assholes, Warren.”
That’s a comment from a girl who’s been jaded way too many times. I stand up and slide the shower curtain open. She’s standing beneath the stream of water. Mascara has streaked its way down her cheeks.
“Maybe you just haven’t met the right asshole yet.”

“I think it takes being loved in order to know how to love,” she says quietly

She’s so confusing. She’s so frustrating. She’s so damn unpredictable.
She’s nothing I’ve ever wanted in a girl. And absolutely everything I need.

need her to admit that there’s an actual heart inside her chest. And that sometimes it beats for me.