Best Friend Ch. 01

As soon as I was about to kiss something else entirely, Ilya suddenly gripped at my shoulder and said, "Fuck, we can't do this. I'm sorry. We're friends, Pete."

I immediately paused and slowly moved my head back up--right to her face, just a few inches away--but didn't change my position over her. We looked at each other in silence.

"And friends can't do it..?" I quietly asked as I brushed the corners of her eyes with my thumb.

I continued, "It's just sex, baby. Pure fun. Who said intimacy was just for romance?"

"I do."

A minute pause visited while music played in the background. I didn't move and neither did she

"I see," I nodded so as to indicate I understood. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you for unders--"

"So, what if we try dating?" I suddenly asked.

Ilya was dumbfounded. She stuttered, "You don't mean that."

I chuckled, trying to hide my anxiety. I was treading very unknown waters, and the risk involved was something I couldn't imagine losing. As I gazed at her expression though, I knew this wasn't going to end up as I hoped.

"Would that be so bad?"

Ilya said, her eyebrows furrowing, "Peter, we'll get so tangled up with each other and it'll ruin our friendship. I just know it. I don't want to risk everything that we have--"

Pain seeped to my bones. I put my thumb gently over her lips, my other hand patting the back of her head as I whispered, "Shh. Don't be a coward, Ilya. Tell it to me straight. You don't love me romantically, is that right?"

Ilya's face showed her inner turmoil; she wanted to tell him that it wasn't like that, but she stopped herself from saying anything. What was the point of saying how she really felt? The only thing it would do is complicate things further.

I didn't notice the fluctuations of her expression as I waited for her reply.

She steeled herself inwardly and said, "You're right. I don't."

I hid the sound of my heart breaking by mildly grunting disappointedly--as if this was just a shallow game of sex to me. I knew she was anxious too. She might even be scared. To reassure her, I smiled as if nothing was wrong. I slowly eased the wrinkles from her clothes.

She watched me undo the mess I made out of her as I gently kept my gaze directly fixed onto hers the whole ordeal. I broke the eye-contact and got up from her.

I told her, keeping my eyes on the floor, "It's cool, Ilya. I understand. Nothing has to change. If anything, I'm glad you smoked under my supervision. I'd rather you do dangerous stuff with me. You were right not to trust your dopey little friends. Keep doing that. I'm going to sober up outside, alright?" I dragged my heavy, glued feet one step at a time and got out of my apartment. God, it fucking hurt to know for sure she didn't love me that way, despite me already knowing that.

I listened to the bustling street below me. People walked busily, going along with their own lives.

I needed a breather, but I knew I wasn't allowed plenty of it. I needed to go back there, to reassure her nothing's actually wrong and that our friendship was more than intact. I needed to hang out with Ilya and have our usual conversations and inside jokes. Dread seeped into my eyes.

For the first time, I didn't want to.