For the past month, August and I have been meeting up at the viewpoint of the Vesuvius-hill. Sporadically at first but more frequently throughout the weeks. Somewhere in between the second and fourth meet-up, August told my sister and Lucie we were hanging out, as friends, of course. She sold it as us bumping into each other a couple of times in the supermarket, during a jog, and on the Vesuvius-hill, and that we started talking, as friends, of course. They thought nothing of it because after all, friends can meet up.

As a friend, she's been telling me about the athletics team and her obsession with trying to perfect the recipes of her self-invented desserts. I can now call myself the proud critic of August's desserts. It's a lovely, and most of all, delicious job. Except for the part where she tries to convert me into a caramel-lover by secretly serving me desserts with caramel in them.

It's safe to say her attempts have been unsuccessful so far.

I've been listening to her horrible jokes that somehow always make me smile and she's been listening to me babble about soccer competitions she knows nothing about. And at the end of every get-together, not date, she recommends to me a movie she loves.

I watch every single one of them. I enjoy it but even if I wouldn't, I would watch the living hell out of them just to see the smile on her face when I share my opinion on them.

It's obvious. I'm an absolute sucker for her because, with every grin, every eye roll, and every playful punch she gives me when I tease her, I fall deeper into this bottomless hole called love. It's ridiculously scary, ridiculously dangerous but ridiculously exciting. And that's why I have this ridiculous idea to come clean.

"I don't want to be your friend." I blurt as she walks up to the railing of the lookout point.

Her hands grip the metal on the edge of the cliff, her head's hung low and she doesn't turn around.

It doesn't look good, but I can't back out now.

"Ari, please, look at me." Hesitantly she turns around as she tucks a strand of her wavy auburn hair behind her ear. Her eyes are filled with uncertainty and the left side of her lip is clamped between her teeth. Her face is pleading with me to stop but I don't want to pretend anymore.

"What I mean is that I want to be your friend, August. I do. I want to be the friend you call when you feel sad, the one you go to with the smallest of problems. I want to be the friend you think of when something funny happens and I want to be the friend you can shamelessly tell all your jokes to. But I also want to be the friend you fall hopelessly in love with because fucking hell, August, you've been making it pretty fucking hard for me not to with you. And I think I'm losing that battle, so fuck it. I want this and I want you to, just for a moment, forget everything. Just for a moment, think about what you want. Think about yourself."

In a split second, she fires back, "I am thinking about myself."

"Fine," I snap. "Then is this really what you want? Because if you tell me now it is, then that's fine by me. If you tell me now that being friends is all you want, then that's all we'll ever be. Just say the word; Colin, you've been imagining everything. Colin, you're the only one that's been feeling like an eight-year-old high on candy when I'm with you. The only one that can't stop thinking about how it'd feel to kiss you or hold your hand. So, Colin, I want to be friends and there isn't a single hair on my body that even thinks about being more. There isn't even a little part of me that is going crazy pretending to feel nothing. Just say it and we'll never talk about this again. But don't you dare lie to me or yourself."

The sound of my pounding heart is ear-deafening in the nerve-racking silence lingering between us. The fear that I fucked this up creeps around the corner but I cling to the moment of impulsive bravery as I stare down at her.

Her eyes are big, her nostrils flared and her jaws are clenched. "You're an asshole."

It's not exactly the answer I was expecting but at least it's not a no.

"You're not wrong but I'm sick of pretending." I take a step closer and her gaze drops to the ground. "Tell me you don't want this, August." My voice is humble but it's filled with fear because I'm afraid she'll oblige. And I don't want her to.

I caress her soft cheeks and rest my forehead on hers as I whisper another daring command. "Tell me to walk away." Her hands strangle my shirt in their grip and I wait for her to push me back. To break her silence and tell me that whatever this is, is over. "Just tell me to-"

"Stop." Her voice cracks. "Stop talking."

"I can't."

"Well, I can't either." She barks, stepping away. Her head snaps up and her glossy eyes meet mine. "I can't say it." Tears roll down her face and every single one of them showers my heart with regret.

"I can't tell you to walk away, because I don't want you to," she cries out. "And I can't tell you that I don't want this because I do. God, I do." She sighs as if admitting it for only one second lifts a thousand pounds off of her shoulders.

Even though her confession breathes life into a buried hope inside of me, I can't help but wait for the other shoe to drop. The 'but' to fall off of her lips. I wait for her to crush my hope because I can feel it hanging in the thick air as I observe the emotions roaming her face.

"But I cannot want this." She spreads her arms as if it's obvious. As if her answer to this situation is the only possible outcome. And I hate it.

"And who told you that?" I snarl, letting my desperation fuel the frustration in my voice.

"I did," she fires back.

My blood is boiling. "And are you happy with that choice?"

"No!" Her bellow of rage is a slap in my face, a punch in my heart, gasoline on the fire burning inside of me, and I do the only thing that comes to mind.

I take her face between my hands, snatch her closer and smash my lips on hers as if it's the only reasonable answer. Her palms rest flat on my chest, and I wait for her to push me away, for her to kick my heart off the cliff it's standing on.

However, her hands slowly fold into fists, crushing my shirt between her fingers before she pulls me closer. I devour her soft lips, stealing her breaths and trying to give back the warmth inside my chest, hoping she'd give in to the thought that this isn't wrong.

Fuck, this doesn't feel wrong at all.

My fingers are tangled in her hair, slightly pulling it. Her hands slide over my chest into my neck to pull me closer and I swing my arms around her waist, curving her body against mine. Her hands slide back down and the caress sends shivers down my spine and electricity through my veins. I can feel the pressure of her fingers against my chest and I relish in the feeling of her touch until the meaning of the force punches me in the gut as she abruptly pushes me away.

Her eyes are wide, her lips swollen and red. "Shit." She mutters as her chest heavily rises and falls. She sprints past me mumbling the curse word over and over again. I spin around immediately running after her.

"August," I call but she ignores it as she hurries her way down the stairs of the hill.

"August, wait." I try again. 

She doesn't respond, she doesn't even move her head at the sound of her name. The moment my feet touch the last step, I sprint after her to stop her before she reaches another staircase.

"Ari," I whisper as I step in front of her grabbing her arms to stop her from running.

Her gaze is locked on her feet. "I shouldn't have done that."

"I kissed you back so we're both at fault." She glances up and the guilt in her eyes shreds me to pieces.

"I don't want this to be a mistake. I don't want to feel guilty about doing that. God, August, I want to unapologetically kiss you, knowing you want me to." I cup her face and tilt her head so she'd look into my eyes. "I want-"

"Col." She grabs my hands and leans into them, closing her eyes before slowly removing them from her skin.

"What?" My question is barely audible.

She shakes her head nibbling on her lip. "Please don't say things like that."

"Why?" I don't know why I ask her. Maybe it's out of hope she'll change her mind about this being wrong or maybe I need her to crush my heart one more time to carve it into my mind that I can't have her.

"If you say things like that I-," she runs her hands through her hair trying to find the right words, "it messes with my head."

"What do you mean?"

She drops her head in her hands as she sighs. "You mess with my head, Col. Just when you are you and when you say those things it-." a growl of frustration leaves her lips only making me want to slam mine on hers again even more. "It's just. I have this list of all the reasons why this is wrong."

Of course, she has a list, and the fact that she has, almost makes me smile.

Almost.

Because the list contains the reasons why I can't have her. Why she thinks the kiss is wrong and why it can never happen again.

"I'm finally in a place where I can build friendships that go further than homework problems or the latest school drama. I can finally build a true connection with someone and I don't know about you but I don't think that kissing my friend's ex is a good way to start a friendship. Because I'm pretty sure that friend's exes belong to the big fat no-go category in the friendship rulebook. I think Lucie even shot me a weird look when I told her we were meeting up again and I don't know what to do. I don't want to screw this up, I really don't but If you say things like that, it makes me want to rip the stupid list and the stupid rulebook apart. I want to rip it apart, shred it in pieces, but I can't, okay?"

It's hard to even look at her because, with every part of her heart she reveals, I want to do all the things she is forbidding me to do at this exact moment.

"We can't."

I can.

I can do it for you.

I want to say it but decide to hold it in. To stay quiet and ignore the urging feeling to tell her 'no'. To tell her that I want to try it even when Lucie might get hurt. But I know that it would be pointless if she doesn't want to. She has to be the one to tell me she wants to do it. That she wants to risk it all.

God, I wish I could climb in her head and change it all.

Burn her list, burn all the reasons why we shouldn't. Burn it down. But I can't. And it may be slowly burning me.

"Friends, friends it is." I blurt as the fear of losing her fully overthrows me.

She stares me in the eyes and closes the distance by crawling under my arms and nestling her head against my chest. I rest my chin on her head and close my eyes. "What are you doing?" I whisper into the darkness of the night.

"Friends hug, right?" Her voice is so quiet I can barely hear her.

"They do." I hope they fucking do.