It's pretty rough and I don't really know where to go from here but I was just looking for some feedback.
His love was that of a different kind; not selfish or limited, but overflowing and constant. Never questioning the depth of her love, he just sent his her way, happily with care. He remained completely unafraid of showing his fears, or of receiving her rejection, his relaxed confidence in love made all her doubts wither away. It was an innocent love that made her forgive his age and hers. She was 15 and he was 19 and their relationship began with every intention of innocence.
It all started with the pair's insomnia and a few sleepy friends. It was 2:00 in the morning and around that hour, the night made her feel bold. As the rest of the girls dropped off to sleep she was left alone, and wide-awake. She considered waiting upstairs for the inevitable sunrise, but knew she could find comfort downstairs, in the plush musty cushions, a warm blanket wrapped around her knees and a thick novel in her hands. As she tip-toed down the stairs and the carpet muffled her light steps, she couldn't help but appreciate the silence of a sleeping house and the freedom it provided her mind. So often it was filled with the noise of her chaotic life that the quiet made her calm and happy.
She was shocked her happiness was still in tact as she entered the spacious foyer to find a young man in pajamas, wrapped up in a blanket, comfortable on the cushions she had imagined were arranged just for herself. That same confidence kicked in and she started openly at him. He looked mature, older that her, yet welcoming and a little unpolished. He was quite handsome, yet in an unobtrusive way that you noticed after really looking and there was a small something familiar about the way his mouth seemed permanently arranged into a mischievous smirk. She stepped right into the doorway, making herself known and noticed a reaction as she entered the room.
"Sorry to startle you, I just couldn't sleep. The sound of 4 girls snoring, well it isn't exactly a lullaby." She mumbled more to herself, taking a seat across from him. She was surprised to find he seemed happy to have her company and more surprised that the calm she had felt was still hanging around. "Oh, it's fine.†He said sounding amused. “Honestly, the wall wasn't being too responsive anyway...†She giggled, then stopped. She hated giggling. "So, what are you doing in the Sullivan house at this hour? I don't think I've ever seen you here before." she said trying to recapture her cool. At least she was in her comfort zone; for the past year the Sullivans' had been like family, there she had a toothbrush, spare undies and occasionally a spot on the dish calendar. "Uh, well… I'm Cooper Sullivan." He said with a smirked. And at that moment she placed the familiar grin with the cheerful boy from the family photos. She flushed a deep red and her confident smile wiped away. "Oh." She muttered. And there went her cool. She could see the slight similarities, now that she was looking for them, but the differences were astounding. Gone was the round face and oily skin, his gangly build was now replaced with a sturdy one, even his green eyes had somehow been enhanced over time. This man claiming to be Cooper was tall with a big frame, his skin was warm gold stretched over long wiry muscles. His eyes were green but tinted with the same golden color and he had curly brown hair that sat tousled atop his head and strong broad features. As her eyes roved over the man sitting across from her, her flush faded and she attempted a smile.
After the minor embarrassment he explained how he’d been studying abroad in Athens and caught a flight home two weeks earlier to surprise his family. They fell into an easy conversation, to their surprise the dialog flowed unassisted, and propelled by their exhaustion, the subject matter deepened. The hours passed and slowly they began to unearth pieces of the others identity. He learned about her irrational fear of butterflies, and took note of the way she bit her lip before cutting him off and launching into a most random tangent. She was fascinated by his love for languages and couldn’t help but notice the subtle beauty in his soft low voice, like each word he spoke had been dipped in honey. She dully noted that she was probably flirting, but knowing he was completely unavailable she didn't harp on this too much, and was sure it went unnoticed.
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