Summary: the Shelby's thoughts during Wherefore Thou Art
Disclaimer: If I owned them, HG would be still on air.
I Willn't ask feedback, but since it's my first HG fic, I would appreciate it greatly .
Falling
How I feel about him ?
I don't know, honestly.
At the beginning it was just a pull. I felt strongly attracted to him, and there's no abnormality about it.He 's so hot and any girl blind or dead can see it. Even his too evident badmouthing me and disliking me couldn't keep me away. I hated it when he called '' used car'' or ''skank'', but maybe if I let him continue, it was because I knew it was true. Like if he could see right though me all that I have done.
Now instead, nothing would hurt me more than hearing again those words from him and see he means them. I try and try, but can't imagine my reaction to them.
I already took in his hate, but then it looked impossible that I felt this destructive attraction for him, if he really felt nothing back. I knew that, in a way, he was both repulsed by and interested in me. I couldn't stop thinking about him, about what it would feel like having a kiss like he kissed Juliette, talking me like he talked to her, with gentless, with respect.
Now I know how it feels and this began the problem. When he brushes my hair out my face, or trusts of me with his thoughts, his secrets, when he takes my hand or plays with my hair, it's totally different from what other guys did the same , or more intimate, things to me .
No sensation of power or contempt shoots through me.
Perhaps the best part of what I feel about him is that it's always fully unexpected. I can't control it, and it scares me thinking that IT could control me a day.
I thought I could play it cool but...
When he's with me, and laughs at my sarcasm, I don't feel like an adolescent profoundly dysfunctional, or the slut after what I was called in the streets, but almost like if all my shattered pieces were again in place.
The better way to describe it is to compare it to the nights I used to walk in the dark alleys. I didn't know where, or when, or how I could fall, but I strode in quickly, excited from the danger and the freedom.
He says I'm beautiful, and I can see that he believes it.
I know he sees me like this only because I understand him, and what happened with Elaine, but it doesn't make him feel less important.
So, I refuse to tell him the truth he seeks. He would understand it never, anyway.
Yet I want him to see me.... the real me.
I try and try to imagine how would he react if I would tell him.
Would he be cold to me?
Would he treat me like the whore I was?
Would he touch me in a different way? Like if I was an object, a body to be used?
Would he so repulsed that he could not look me at all?
And me? Would I accept any thing he is willing offer?
Would I take in his anger, his repulsion?
Would I think I deserve it?
Would I be angry? Would be I disappointed?
The only matter which confuses me more than him, is the way I feel about him.
It's beautiful looking at someone and being able to read him so well than you can see exactly what he's feeling, and respect him for who he is. For me it's a first.
Normally, the more I know a boy, more I lose my respect and good intentions toward him.
But Scott is special. He cares about who I'm.
I'm not yet ready to give it up.
Of two evils you choose the lesser.
Daisy is right, but I will keep my secret if it kills me.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, HG would be still on air.
I Willn't ask feedback, but since it's my first HG fic, I would appreciate it greatly .
Falling
How I feel about him ?
I don't know, honestly.
At the beginning it was just a pull. I felt strongly attracted to him, and there's no abnormality about it.He 's so hot and any girl blind or dead can see it. Even his too evident badmouthing me and disliking me couldn't keep me away. I hated it when he called '' used car'' or ''skank'', but maybe if I let him continue, it was because I knew it was true. Like if he could see right though me all that I have done.
Now instead, nothing would hurt me more than hearing again those words from him and see he means them. I try and try, but can't imagine my reaction to them.
I already took in his hate, but then it looked impossible that I felt this destructive attraction for him, if he really felt nothing back. I knew that, in a way, he was both repulsed by and interested in me. I couldn't stop thinking about him, about what it would feel like having a kiss like he kissed Juliette, talking me like he talked to her, with gentless, with respect.
Now I know how it feels and this began the problem. When he brushes my hair out my face, or trusts of me with his thoughts, his secrets, when he takes my hand or plays with my hair, it's totally different from what other guys did the same , or more intimate, things to me .
No sensation of power or contempt shoots through me.
Perhaps the best part of what I feel about him is that it's always fully unexpected. I can't control it, and it scares me thinking that IT could control me a day.
I thought I could play it cool but...
When he's with me, and laughs at my sarcasm, I don't feel like an adolescent profoundly dysfunctional, or the slut after what I was called in the streets, but almost like if all my shattered pieces were again in place.
The better way to describe it is to compare it to the nights I used to walk in the dark alleys. I didn't know where, or when, or how I could fall, but I strode in quickly, excited from the danger and the freedom.
He says I'm beautiful, and I can see that he believes it.
I know he sees me like this only because I understand him, and what happened with Elaine, but it doesn't make him feel less important.
So, I refuse to tell him the truth he seeks. He would understand it never, anyway.
Yet I want him to see me.... the real me.
I try and try to imagine how would he react if I would tell him.
Would he be cold to me?
Would he treat me like the whore I was?
Would he touch me in a different way? Like if I was an object, a body to be used?
Would he so repulsed that he could not look me at all?
And me? Would I accept any thing he is willing offer?
Would I take in his anger, his repulsion?
Would I think I deserve it?
Would I be angry? Would be I disappointed?
The only matter which confuses me more than him, is the way I feel about him.
It's beautiful looking at someone and being able to read him so well than you can see exactly what he's feeling, and respect him for who he is. For me it's a first.
Normally, the more I know a boy, more I lose my respect and good intentions toward him.
But Scott is special. He cares about who I'm.
I'm not yet ready to give it up.
Of two evils you choose the lesser.
Daisy is right, but I will keep my secret if it kills me.