11 | knight in reality-3

I suppose Mom and Dad and Ean all saw this, because they gently left Miles and I alone whenever he came over to teach me. Even Marcel was observant enough to know that I didn't like to be disturbed, and she effortlessly handled the queue at Wavelength with Ean, waving off my thanks with a knowing laugh. So, when the shack was shut for lunch the next day, and Greg had entered the shack through the back door, demanding that I grab my surfboard to catch some waves with him, I scowled at him for disturbing the peace and quiet that Miles and I were having. "I'm trying to do well for my SATs, mister," I explained, when he asked me why in the kind of plaintive voice that suited a child. "And since you've already done well enough for yours, you can take your surfboard out to celebrate and leave me alone." "Alright, miss bossy," he grumbled, "if you wanted to have some alone time with Miles all you had to do was say so. It's not like I'm cruel enough to sink the Marcy ship." It was all I could do not to smack him. But Miles was looking utterly confused. "What's Marcy?" he asked, with interest. I narrowed my eyes at Greg, wondering if he'd have the courage to actually reveal what it meant, especially after seeing the hidden daggers behind my innocent expression. Surely, he didn't dare to. Winking briefly at me, he smiled a wicked smile and said, "Miles and Darcy, of course." Oh, but he did. The nerve of him! Surging to my feet, I was more than ready to smack him just like I promised Marcel I would the previous day, when I caught sight of Miles's expression. It was an odd mixture of surprise and horror, like Greg had discovered something he'd kept hidden all this while. Clearly, Greg had noticed this too, because he began to back away. "You know, I'll just be - uh, going - " My glare deepened. It was just like him to up and leave when he'd turned everything topsy-turvy. I loved Greg, but he was so trying sometimes. "Yes. Leave, before I smack you." "Kinky," he noted, with a grin, but left all the same. Then the place was silent once again, but the damage had been done. I didn't know what to make of it, or how to fix it. Greg had spoken the unspoken. Neither Miles nor I had ever made to confront our feelings for each other before, but here it was, laid bare on the table. Could anything be more glaringly obvious? Not that I didn't like the fact that my feelings for Miles were reciprocated, of course. Nor did I hate the fact that I liked Miles. It was just a lot simpler when we didn't have to face our feelings so soon. Desperately wanting to break the silence, I pushed my chair back and cleared my throat. "I should, uh, probably - " "Darcy." His voice was soft, but careful, "there's something you should know." "Alright." This was painfully awkward. Sitting down again, I tried to meet his gaze but it was difficult, and I hastily averted my eyes. In this aspect, he was far more courageous than I ever was and ever would be. Then again, confronting my feelings, especially the strong feelings, had never quite been my forte. "I-I've been wanting to tell you this for a long time now," he began, but the words tumbled out of my lips before I could even stop myself. "I know." His eyes widened. "What?" "I've known for awhile now," I admitted, tracing the lines on the table with my eyes. "Which explains all the teasing I've been getting and Greg's slip earlier." He flushed and lowered his eyes. But then he looked up again, and his eyes held nothing but sincerity in them. "It doesn't have to be reciprocal, you know? You don't have to feel pressured into, um, liking me or - " "Miles," I cut him off. The amused smile that played on my lips was difficult to diffuse. "Is this the first time you're confessing your feelings to a girl?" He looked even more embarrassed than he did before, which I hadn't thought possible. "Uh - yeah." "Piece of advice - don't tell a girl how to feel when you don't know what page she's on yet." A frown slipped between his eyebrows as he considered what I'd said, and then it was there - the glimmer of hope as my words registered in his head. He stared at me carefully, like he half expected me to snap at him or leave altogether. "And what," he shut his eyes briefly, before opening them again, "what page are you on?" And then I couldn't fight it. A nagging voice at the back of my head told me that this was stupid, this was going to have disastrous consequences, what would he do if he found out, stop, stop, stop but I ignored it. "I believe," my voice was barely a murmur, but I had never believed in anything harder than I did then, "I'm on the same page as you." His eyes widened like he could hardly believe his ears. It took a moment or two, but when a tentative smile glossed his lips, I allowed myself to close the gap between us. His lips were warm as I kissed him gently, leaving soft nips on his bottom lip, letting him fall into the kiss just as I had fallen headfirst into all of this. It was easy to lose my head with him. His scent was intoxicating, his uncertainty reassuring. I pulled back before the kiss could get heated and smiled, loving the dazed look in his eyes and the flush on his cheeks. With a gentle laugh, I reached down and laced my fingers with his. "And now, I believe I'm three pages ahead of you."