"Hey, this one's really good. I think it's my favourite."

"Oh," I said, looking over to him behind me hiding my notebook from embarrassment. I felt my cheeks warm and I suddenly had the urge to keep myself from smiling like an idiot. I shyly tugged a piece of hair behind my ear, turning around and leaned against my closed locker with my notebook tightly tucked in between my arms and chest.

"Really?" I squinted my eyes at him, a doubtful smirk on my lips, as if testing him. I looked over at it again and scanned my eyes over what I drew. "I don't think it's all that great--"

"What?" He yelped, snatching the notebook from my chest, a frustrated look on his face, albeit distressed, which looked rather funny as if he was seriously invested in his strong opinion about my art. It made my heart flutter at the sudden care and unsaid "compliment", but I knew I couldn't let my feelings get in the way when having a conversation like this. (I might just give in and melt into a puddle of feelings. Oops.)

"No." He looked between me and my notebook with raised eyebrows as he shook his head frantically. Then he stared at the notebook with a different gleam; he was scrutinizing the page with his brown eyes, as if he really was genuinely deciding on how he felt about what I drew, and not just saying it looked nice to blindly compliment me or avoid offending me.

And I found myself doing almost the same. Instead of the notebook, I was studying him.

He was charming, especially about the way he strongly feels about things completely unimportant or insignificant (like this artwork of mine), but it showed a sense of genuinity and care that I often did not see in people who would compliment me or something I did.

I felt a tug at the corner of my lips, and I knew it was time to look away. I crossed my arms over my chest to replace the notebook now in his hands, and shook my head in defeat. From my peripheral, I saw him look at me and let out a chuckle, once sensing I accepted defeat. I rolled my eyes playfully before looking back at him with raised eyebrows and sticking an empty hand out for my notebook.

"Did anyone ever tell you that taking things without saying 'please' isn't very polite?"

"What are you, my grandmother?" He teased me, a boyish smirk and complete victory covering his face. He teased me! I let out a breathy gasp and placed a hand to my chest. My mouth was open agape and I tilted my head to the side in complete surprise. The nerve of this boy!

"Wow," I said rather longly while slowly backing away. "You are like--not nice to me!"

"Wha--no! No! I am completely nice to you--hey, don't walk away, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He said behind me as I squinted my eyes and bit my lips, which formed a cheeky grin, in a lame attempt to keep myself from not bursting in laughter. I felt his frantic footsteps nearing and his hand tugging my shoulder.

"Hey, c'mon, I'm sorry--I didn't mean it. The opportunity--the opportunity!--was perfect and I--" He suddenly stopped talking, and from big and pleading, his eyes transformed to slits with strong suspicion. Oh no, this is making it even harder!

"What?" I asked, in the most nonchalant way as possible, with a quick lift of my right shoulder, arms crossed over my chest, and my brows furrowed at him. Although I knew the corner of my lip was not going to stay down and keep my cover, I still went along with it.

But his suspicious, squinting eyes travelled to my lips and it was suddenly harder to keep myself from laughing like an idiot. He stared into my eyes, the squinting getting smaller and smaller, and my ability to not laugh getting harder and harder. . .

I bit my lip for good measure, but just at that moment, he stepped back with a pointer finger in my direction. "Aha!" He said, victory once again engulfed in his eyes as a smirk was slowly starting to form on his lips. From shock and surprise, I backed up into the lockers with wide eyes, still desperately trying to keep myself from smiling and letting out a chuckle.

"Aha. . . ?" I asked him with wide eyes and a small voice.

He let out a chuckle and let his pointing hand fall down as he walked closer towards me. He stared at the notebook before handing it over to me. "You can do a lot of things, like making great art and be completely humble about it," He flipped through the pages, stopping ever so often to look at something that caught his eye. I felt that fluttering in my heart again, but before I could even register it or at least, ignore it, he began talking again. "And you can also be a lot of things, like nice, and funny, and also really cute when someone compliments you," His eyes quickly darted from the notebook to my wide and surprised eyes. I felt my cheeks warm and a lack of breath in my throat.

"But," He said, nodding his head. "Hate to break it to you, but you can't really stop yourself from trying to not laugh. Sorry, but that was incredibly obvious," He shrugged, extending his hand to me with my notebook as he bit his lips and laughed.

"Okay," I said, after composing myself (not really) and got my notebook back and tugged it between my arms and chest. "Defeat accepted," I said nonchalantly. "But," I looked over at him with squinted eyes. "That does not mean I accept myself as a grandmother, or at least yours."

"I was just joking! Promise! You're nothing like a grandmother--not that I have anything against them." He said reassuringly and I found myself immediately believing him. Hmm, probably not good.

"Plus, if I thought you were my grandmother, don't you think it would be weird if I did this?"

Suddenly, I felt the cold locker against my warm skin. He was moving closer towards me, or rather, my lips, and I suddenly felt the world closing in around me. I was surprised, and I'm sure it was evident enough in my eyes. I was slowly losing my breath and although I felt like I was being suffocated, I still felt the familiar fluttering in my heart and somehow, this time, I didn't want it to stop.

But stupidly, before our lips could make up even a fraction of a kiss, I suddenly turned my head away to the opposite direction, allowing myself to breathe easier. I closed my eyes in shock and I felt my very own sweat on my forehead and the claminess of my very own hands.

But before I could move away, I heard the loud sound of something hitting the locker, and when I noticed, I saw him head to head with the locker, closed eyes as his fist supported his forehead on the locked. We were in the same position, him towering over me, but his head leaned against the locker and my head to the side. I squinted my eyes in guilt and attempted to bite my lips hard enough to try and convince myself this was a dream.

Moments have passed. It was appropriate to talk now, wasn't it?

"Luke?"

"Yes." He picked himself up suddenly, providing an awkward distance between us. I tilted my head at him but he was avoiding my eyes. "Yes?"

"Oh," I said, and I felt my cheeks warm once again, but I knew what I had to say. "Oh, um, really sorry about that--"

"Hey," He assured me, looking into my eyes once again and shaking his head as if completely forgetting what happened and ignored the awkward aura surrounding us. "Hey, don't apologize, okay? I should be the one apologizing. Hell, I--I didn't ask and just went for it and listened to my instinct before even--like--asking you--and," He let out a groan and massaged his head. "I am so sorry I didn't even ask you, and we aren't even in the right point yet, and," He let out a lengthy sigh before staring deep into my eyes. "--bottom line, Olivia, I'm really sorry if I made it awkward or invaded your personal space."

I stood there, as shocked as ever, from well, almost everything that happened today. All of this was unexpected, but what really wasn't was the way he apologized to me--so genuine and extremely sorry, and so full of care and sympathy, just how an apology should always sound like--that really made me have a higher appreciation for the boy in front of me.

I smiled at his embarrassed yet apologetic eyes-which was incredibly cute, mind you-and began to laugh. I noticed the confusion slowly forming on his face, but somehow, I couldn't stop.

"Wha-why are you laughing?" He asked, his head tilted to the side and his eyebrows raised.

"Sorry," I let out another giggle. "Sorry, you're just really, really cute when you apologize," I sweetly said, every ounce of genuinity flowing through my words and I think he noticed it too from the sudden reddening of his cheeks, which albeit, made my cheeks warm as well. It's from all the laughing, Olivia, nothing else.

I didn't know what was happening to me, maybe it was the sudden overflow of large amounts of serotonin flowing through my body, which was making itself evident in my actions, because I started to walk away, but I tugged him along with my arm linked in his. There was a big grin on my face.

From my peripheral, I saw him looking at me intensely, as if figuring out or at least trying to figure out what was happening to me. Honestly, I was doing exactly the same.

"See!" He suddenly shrieked, unlinking his arm from me and putting his hands out in front of me. "This-this!-is what is making it hard for me to not go and just kiss you-"

The smile was wiped off my face and I stopped, staring at him in front of me in all his red-cheeked glory. I'm sure I looked exactly the same, if not, maybe even one hundred times worse.

"-so next time, Olivia, when I'm going in to kiss you, it's because I can't seem to handle the things you say or do-which is almost everyday when I think about it. A-And you can't expect to do those things to a guy-especially a guy who really likes you-because they will lose control and like you even more-"

At this point, the flutters have done everything but subsided and I knew there was nothing I could do at this point. It was interesting to hear what he had to say, because I was feeling the exact same way and I thought I was being the one incredibly obvious about it.

"-bottom line is, is that I am not a guy who would lose focus or my self-control. B-But when you do or say those things I'm like a different person, because I can't seem to control myself from your-you!-because it's-"

It was incredibly stupid, what I did, but I knew I had to make time for what was lost.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and put my face especially close to his face. He suddenly stopped talking when he noticed our proximity. He was much cuter from this distance, as I noticed the little freckles that covered his face and his brown irises that almost made me lose my self control.

I poked his nose with my pointer finger. "You talk too much, Lucas."

And before I knew it, my lips were on his, every ounce of reality floating away and every sense of giddiness and surprise surrounding the two of us.