Platonic warmth

"Lisa?"

And as if I was in a trance, I look behind me and see Lucas. "Hey,"

"Why are you crying?"

His question startles me because I didn't know when I was crying. "Am I?" It's hard to tell, my face is already wet from the rain.

"What happened?"

I shake my head, and look at him, "Why are you out here?" He is wearing a red basketball T with the name of the club he plays for.

"On my way from practice."

I nod and look down.

"What happened?" I glance up at him, but this time I start sniffing without warning, the start of an ugly cry. "Luc I—" And before I know it, I already drape my arms around his ridiculously gigantic body. At first, I felt for a second he would jerk me off, cause he doesn't like hugging people, but he doesn't, thankfully. I really needed a hug.

He brings his arms around me, and just his one arm is enough to hug all of me. "What happened?" He repeats.

"I think just got rejected."

"What?"

"He likes Olivia."

This time he doesn't ask me to repeat, maybe because he knows now, who I mean.

"Does he know you like him?" He asks.

"No," I say, with my mouth on his T-shirt. Normally I would have never hugged Lucas Greyson when he just came back from his basketball practice. And it's not like he would even let me. Not that his sweat stinks, it doesn't, which I wonder how. It really doesn't stink at all, just a sweet smell of freshness and fruits fills your nostrils.

More reasons why girls lose their shit when they see him. But yeah, you wouldn't be able to tell he just came from practice. Maybe the rain is the reason?

Drawing me closer, he starts walking, pulling me with him, as he says.

"You'll catch a cold."

And then he drags me with him to his car, which I hadn't noticed before.

"You know your car's pretty cool," I say, as I get in. He grins, closing the door.

Coming to the other side, he shoves me a towel saying, "Here, dry yourself."

"Especially your hair," he emphasises.

I look at him, as I do precisely what he said. "I know." The towel he just passed me smells so good. It was possibly submerged in vanilla essences when it was cleaned which gives it this sweet soothing smell.

"This towel almost smells like you," I say looking at it.

"It does?" He asks, fastening his seat belt.

"Perhaps even enchanting," The towel really smells good, just like every other thing this guy uses.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is," Giggling, I take a deep breath.

My feelings are a mess right now and I just don't know what the best course of action would be right now. I don't even know why I did that in the first place. . .meeting him and saying all that, I don't know if it was right of me to do that.

"Why are you sighing?"

I groan, looking at the windowsill. "As if you don't know."

He doesn't say anything after that, and he doesn't start the car either. I turn to look at him and see him looking at the cloudy windshield in front.

His eyes are fixated on it, unfocused, but intensely pondering something.

"Don't you wanna go?" This time, he glances at me, as his overcast blue eyes lock on mine, blurred.

Instead of answering me, he says "Are you hungry?"

"What?" It was a bit funny, but so familiarly comforting. "You know I am always hungry." And this makes us both smile.

"KFC?" This makes me smile even bigger.

"Sure sire." I look at him, as he starts the car and pulls away. "You want some music?"

"You know me too well. It's scary"

He smirks, glancing at me as he says "This I am afraid I am unable to give a definite answer. For you sure are truly fortunate to have a friend like me, who cares about you so much."

He says this in an over-dramatic fashion, and frankly, I couldn't have ever wanted anything better. "And please fix your vocabulary. It's not scary, it's sweet."

"It's not but sometimes I feel so glad to know a crackhead like you." Planting a big smile on my face, I look ahead. Sniffing the towel again, as I rub my hair with it.

"Excuse me? You mean an extremely dashing young man." And before I can confront he says, "And it's not sometimes, it's supposed to be always."

"You know it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Luc, it's not."

"Lisa, it is."

"No, it isn't."

"It is." and before I could say more the song starts playing.

I didn't even realize when the previous song ended. Looking at the dash stereo I pause. The song, the rain, the emotions in me. It is all so beautifully stinging.

'I could say I never dare

To think about you in that way, but-'

When I close my eyes, the image of Alas unfolds. Since when do I like him this much? Do I?

Does this happen because he is the only boy I have ever romantically thought of? Now that I think about it, for me, it has always been Alas. Since the start, it's always been him. Any other guy I've come across was never that attractive to leave the thought of him.

'In my rose-tinted dreams

Wrinkled silk on my sheets

I don't see nobody but you'

And it is perfectly fine of him to be liking someone else, I should be supportive of it, shouldn't I? What am I doing?

Lucas' voice breaks my train of thoughts, "Why don't you just tell him?"

Opening my eyes, I glance at him," I–". I pause as I stare at him. His hair is a little dry, but it is still wet. How did I not notice he was drenched from the rain? "Lucas, you are wet."

"Huh?" He glances at me, before focusing on the road. "Don't worry about that."

"Dude this isn't fine. You are sensitive to cold. Remember?" Taking the towel from my lap I leap myself a little, but the belt wasn't helping.

I loosen the belt a little, before buckling it tight again, then I extend myself towards him and slowly rub his hair between the towel's ends.

"Lisa—stop." He abruptly says, glancing between me and the road again.

I pause, looking at him for a second.

My gaze lands on his lashes, which by the way are way longer than mine, or even the most beautiful girl you'll ever see.

I envy this bastard and his awesome genes so much. "You wanna fall sick and miss classes?" Hearing this he doesn't say anything.