"You didn't have to scare the waiter like that!" Amanda said incredulously, trying to look angry but cracking a grin when she looked up at me.

        I followed her off the list and down the hallway. "I wasn't going to let you pay," I said plainly, snaking an arm around her waist and dragging her closer to me. She only gigled in response.

        She rolled her eyes. "Chivalry isn't dead," she pointed out, "it's just in a coma and were thinking of switching off the life support."

      It was my turn to roll my eyes, "Whatever." I stopped in front of our rooms and both of us got quiet.

        She turned to me, key card in hand. "I had a really great time tonight..." she trailed, looking at her feet and blushing.

        There was a look that passed between us, and suddenly my hands were on her hips and I was closing the gap between us. One arm wrapped itself around her small waist and the other threaded it's fingers through her brown curls. I brought her closer, making her lean back and bringing her face closer to mine.

        Instinctively, she had grabbed my shoulder in efforts not to fall, but after a second of hesitation her hand came up to wrap around my neck, the other crushed between us and still holding the key card. There was something clouding in her eyes, it wasn't love or even lust. I couldn't place the strange emotion but for some reason I ignored it, too wrapped up in the moment to think cognitively. Her eyes flickered down to my lips and I leaned in, our eyes closing simultaneously.

        Seconds stretched to hours. The entire week had been building up to this point and my heart raced with anticipation. My sense were heightened; everywhere her body touched mine lit tiny fires under my skin and sent bolts of energy coursing through me. I was enveloped in her smell, the same thing I had experienced earlier only magnified a million times. Her breath was hot and sweet on my lips, and I desperately wanted to close those last few inches and complete the task I had been aching to do since I met her.

        This had only happened in  seconds, but I feel like it was a lifetime of waiting for it, feeling the sigh of her lips as she breathed my name, "Smith..."

        And then there was only a cold gap where her warmth had been. My arms fell limply to my sides, and I was still bent over in the same prepped position. I opened my eyes and saw that she was a few steps away from me, the emotion I had noticed earlier spilling out into the rest of her features. It was clear as day.

        Regret.

        "This...this was a mistake..." she said quietly, not looking me in the eye and choosing a place on the carpet instead. You could hear the tightness in her throat, and I didn't know whether she regretted this date or these past few days or it was simply regret for breaking the kiss that hadn't happened. She held up a hand in defense, as if I were about to attack her like a wild animal.

        "I...I'm sorry," I stuttered, blood draining from my face and the contents of my stomach turning to water. "Did I do something wrong?" I said, barely above a whisper.

        "No..." she said, "No, I..." she choked out, eyes shinning with tears. I hated seeing girls cry, and this girl was worse than a kicked puppy. I wanted to pull her into my arms and do whatever I could to fix what was wrong, but obviously I was the problem. "I already like you way too much," she said, voice shaking. "You'll be gone in a two days, I can't..." she sighed, "I don't want to be hurt..."

        "But..." I started, not knowing where I was going with the statement. What can you said? I berated myself, You knew this would happen. Yet I still was desperate to say something, to rekindle what we had just felt.

        I opened my mouth but she stopped me. "I'm sorry Smith," she said, tears finally spilling over her lashes and down her cheeks. She seemed like she wanted to say something else, but suddenly she turned and thrust the key card into the door, slamming it behind her.

        I stood there lamely in the hallway, shocked. The emotions seemed to come crashing onto me like waves at a beach. First confusion. Then realization. Anger. Listlessness. And then an empty, hollow feeling in my entire body, like I was only a shell and nothing else existed inside of me. Blindly I knocked on the door, hoping Ross and Trott were in.

        Trott opened the door and leaned against the frame with a smirk on his face. "Hey lover-boy, how was your..." I pushed passed him, ignoring his japes. I walked into the bathroom, slamming the double doors behind me. I wasn't ready to deal with their jokes and mockery.

        Finally the gut-wrenching sadness reached me. I leaned against an empty wall, feeling tears springing in my eyes. I hadn't cried in years, yet the tears ran lines down my cheeks and into my beard. Stupid, I told myself, So stupid. Trott said it. Ross said it. You knew you'd get hurt. Even Amanda saw it! I felt so naive; I should have never let it get as far as it did. I shouldn't have even accepted her offer a few months ago. Stupid, stupid, STUPID. I kept telling myself.

        How could I have ever imagined us together, as a couple. There was no way we could have ever been together, being so far apart in miles and ages. She was still at uni for Christ's sake, and working at Mojang and being amazing and going so far, while I sat in my call center drinking myself to death. I leaned over the sink, hating my own reflection. I wiped my eyes, angry for being so emotional and weak, and even angrier because I still couldn't stop thinking about her. I couldn't stop imagining me walking over to her room and fixing everything and being the hero. I couldn't stop imagining going on dates, celebrating holidays, going on vacation, introducing her to my family, meeting her brother...

        I scolded myself, Forget about it. Forget about her! Brush her off like every other girl you've met or dated or had drunken one night stands with or broken up with or...

        I turned on the sink, splashing ice cold water onto my face. I relished in the sensation, convincing myself I could still feel something. I grabbed a towel as I heard Ross' voice come through the slits of the door. "Smith?" he called, concern choking his voice.

        I wiped my face, hoping that the cold water had washed away my tears and masked my swollen eyes and nose. "I'm fine," I said, my voice cracking and croaking, "I'm just tired."

        The door opened just a crack and he hesitated. When I didn't yell at him to get out or that I wasn't decent he poked his head in. He didn't say anything, just pierced me with his blue eyed gaze. I knew what I was feeling was written across my face, so I ducked my head and pushed past him, sitting down of the bed and taking off my shoes. I tried to hide it, but her face popped back into my head, and I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes, and they threatened to spill forth yet again.

        I sighed, defeated, and leaned my face against the back of my hand, realizing it was futile to hide anthing from them. I peaked at them out of the corner of my eye, and they seemed as if they were staring at a wounded, feral animal. They looked at each other and Ross moved, sitting down beside me and putting an arm on my shoulder. My eyes turned up to look at him fully; his eyes were full of question, but he didn't push it.

        Trott sat on my other side, none of us talking. None of us needing to. I buried my face in my hands, wishing I could just go and see her, to talk to her about what we were both feeling. I needed closure, yet I knew she couldn't give it to me. I didn't care how hurt I was going to feel in two days time, I just wish she could take away the pain I was feeling now.

        It wasn't her fault. As much as I wanted to blame her and give my emotions the outlet they needed, I couldn't hate her. I realized that Trott and Ross, after seeing me like this, might blame her for the state I was in. I was extremely grateful to have such supportive and caring friends, but I didn't want to see their friendship with her diminish. She seemed to like they both a lot. "You were right," I said when I was ready. "She didn't want to get hurt...I...I shouldn't have let it happen..." I stuttered, the pain of longing in my chest making me stop.

        "Were sorry mate," Trott said after a minute. "She'll be gone in a few days and..." Trott looked towards Ross, "and we'll all go back to our own lives and you'll forget about her."

        But I didn't want to forget. I wanted her. My brain was a jumble of thoughts and feelings, and I had a head ache from crying. All I wanted was to crawl into bed and get lost in my self loathing, but like Trott said, I had a duty to our channel.

        I wiped at my nose. "Let's just get today's diary over with."

A/N I'm sorry.