😂😂 Enjoy!

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As Donovan walked back into his room, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the bed. After hunting up a pair of running shorts, he changed into them and laced up his shoes. Grabbing his phone and headphones, he headed for the door. Music blared in his ears. His mind was a riot of thoughts that James's words had stirred up.

Fighting against the paths his brain was leading him down, he stepped into the spring evening. Even though he knew it would be too cold to run, he made the choice to do it anyways. He needed the chill to numb him, take him out his own head.

The sidewalks were crowded with people heading home. As he cut through the mass, he didn't register the admiring eyes following him, too focused on the rhythm of his movements, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath, anything that would distract him. Overhead the sky was a painter's palette, lavender, peach, rose gold and dusty pink swirling together.

Whether it was natural or a result of where his mind was, he found himself at the Lincoln Memorial, making his way around the Reflecting Pool.

Despite himself, he searched each passing face for hers.

When he realized what he was doing, he gritted his teeth and pushed his body harder. He sprinted up the steps and dropped to the stone at the top, falling into a quick set up pushups before he jumped back up and descended the steps again.

The breeze had a bite to it and it chilled him. As he was rounding the other side of the pool, his phone rang. Slowing to an easy jog, he glanced at the screen and answered. 

"What's up, Brock?" he asked, shifting to a cool down.

"I don't know, that's why I'm calling," his oldest brother said.

Donovan frowned, sifting through what Brock might be digging for. When Donovan wasn't quick to respond, Brock went on.

"I just got a text from James saying, 'Oh how the mighty have fallen'."

Resting his hands on his head, Donovan leaned his head back, inwardly cursing his brother. He left out a breath of frustration.

"It's nothing, James is being dramatic," Donovan said.

The trees around the Mall were glowing in the fading light, the tips stealing pieces of the sun's rays and wearing them like ornaments. Tourists cast Donovan simple running clothes  appearance surprised glances, their necks wrapped in scarves and their jackets tucking them in a cocoon of warmth.

"Sounds like him," Brock admitted.

The two brothers said nothing for a second.

"You want to talk about it?" Brock asked.

Sighing, Donovan ran a hand through his hair. As if sensing his bother's hesitation, Brock went on.

"I will be able to keep my mouth shut, unlike James who gossips like an old lady."

Donovan laughed and cut across to the lawn, where he began to stretch.

"How about this," Brock said, "I will do some guesswork."

"Okay."

There was something about coming straight out with it all that Donovan felt everything in him resisting, but a part of him needed to let some of his thoughts go, James just wasn't the one to trust them with.

"Since you've been dealing with high schoolers for the last four years, I'm going to say it has nothing to do with that."

Donovan's lack of response acted as confirmation.

"You keep a low profile so you haven't hit any trouble in school either."

Again Donovan remained silent, almost hating how easily his brother would hit the heart of his problem.

"Okay, what's her name?" he asked.

Donovan held in a laugh, walking back to the Lincoln Memorial and sinking onto the steps. He laced his fingers together and leaned over his knees, staring out on the stretch of water that mirrored the tip of the Washington memorial.

"It's Carter," he breathed out.

"Ah, she must be something special to merit your attention."

Donovan ran a hand down his face, images racing through his mind. 

"You have no idea." He gazed out to the landscape of D.C. but saw none of it. "She's smart, observant, caring though she's slow to show it. She's strong and determined." The edge of Donovan's mouth turned upwards in a smile he didn't know he was wearing. "She handles a gun like a Marine. She's argumentative, frustrating, baffling and...so beautiful, but isn't aware that she is." 

Donovan trailed off, his mind a storm of Carter.

"What the hell are you doing talking to me and not her then?" Brock said, breaking into Donovan's mind.

"It's not that easy," Donovan said, balling his hands into tight fists. "My job is Link. Carter doesn't factor into that. In five months time, I'll be in college with Link and Carter will be somewhere else. There's no point getting into something that will end and only be a distraction."

There was a pause where Donovan stored away the moment of self-indulgence he had given himself.

"Yeah, I call bullshit on this one," Brock said. "You're scared and you're letting that keep you from being with a clearly amazing girl. If I were you I wouldn't wait, I would go tell this girl how you feel. What do you have to lose?"

Images of Carter swam through Donovan's mind. The sideways look she gave him when she knew they were thinking the same thing. The soft smile that belonged to Link when he was struggling. The dark blue shade of her eyes. The upward lift of her lips as she tried not to smile. The little line that formed between her eyebrows when she was concentrating. The way she held his gaze as if she were challenging him to make a move.

Before Donovan realized what he was doing he was on his feet and running. He didn't register Brock's voice in his ears, all he knew was that he needed to do something, say something.

The streets of D.C. shifted to ones of Georgetown. In a daze, Donovan found himself turning down the alleyway to Carter's house as if his feet were always trying to get him to this one spot.

As he sprinted up the stairs to her house, his heart hammered in his chest. Every nerve was humming with an excited energy. He paid no thought to his sweaty state, all he knew was that he needed to see her. Steeling himself, he knocked, the thudding in his chest growing with each second he waited.

The door opened, revealing Carter dressed in a black v-neck t-shirt and a pair of Navy SEAL sweatpants. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders, looking a bit wild. Donovan swallowed, not sure he had ever seen anything as sexy as her in that moment. What she said next only intensified the thought.

"Hey, Donovan," she said. "I was in the middle of assembling my gun, what's up?"

Like a tidal wave that couldn't be held back, it all came out.

"You're driving me insane," he said.

Carter raised an eyebrow but didn't look all that shocked.

"You're constantly in my head, distracting me. I can't sleep half the time for want of being with you, talking to you, seeing you. I've been fine being on my own for the last six years until I met you. You fight me. Argue with me. Annoy me and each time I find myself wanting you more and more."

Donovan dragged his fingers through his hair, his chest working harder than it had while he was running, desire, fear and need colliding inside him.

"I can't picture a life where I don't see you every day. I'm losing my mind because I'm trying so hard to keep you out of my head, but it never works. You always find a way back in, always."

On some level, he was aware he was falling to pieces and it was all due to this girl in front of him.

"I think I'm in..."

Words ceased to be sufficient anymore. Hooking his arm around her waist, he kissed her.

He kissed as if he could convince her of how much he admired her. Of how beautiful she was. Of how thinking about losing her ate away at him. Of how he wanted to be everything for her.

Carter reacted, pulling him closer, her arms trapping him against her. Donovan felt alive with the feel of her. As he-

"Donovan!"

The sound of Brock's voice snapped Donovan into reality. He rubbed his eyes, clearing away the vision. The sun had disappeared from the sky and Donovan felt his muscles tensing with cold.

"Where did you go, man?" Brock asked. "You stopped talking all of a sudden."

Donovan pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to erase the delusion.

"Nowhere. My mind...." He shook his head. "Nowhere."

Brock laughed. "You said she would be a distraction but it seems to me, she already is."

Letting out a slow breath, Donovan buried his face in his hands, shoving away the dream.

"You have no idea."

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I'm coming for you!
(Cause obviously we need to eat ice cream together, duh! 💁‍♀️)

Hahaha okay this has to be one of the most fun chapter's I've written! It was so dramatic! Gosh, Donovan would never do that in a million years.

Be honest, did you think it was real?

Well, this was me amusing myself, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also I like the dynamic between Brock and Donovan, it's a lot more chill than his relationship with James, though I do love me some James!

Random thing, have you noticed how its usually evening or nighttime in all the specials I've written?

I mean seriously, I don't know if it's cause I'm a night owl and just prefer the night time or what but go read them and you'll see, it's constantly evening or night. I might have a problem. *shrugs* I guess I'll just add it to the list.

If you want to share your thoughts about the chapter I would love to hear them!

As always thanks for being amazing and reading! Vote, comment, follow but only if you want!

Proof that a 16 year old can look like he's 12.