"and sometimes i have kept my feelings to myself, because i could find no language to describe them in."

recap of ch. six: xandria suggests they look in the library for the envelopes, and end up stranded when the old librarian accidentally locks them shut.

c h . s e v e n :

t r u t h
o r
d a r e

"ALEXANDRIA?" JULIAN ASKS STEADILY, TANGLING HIS FINGERS THROUGH MINE.

"Y-yeah?" I stutter. 

"There's something I've always wanted to tell you --" he begins. I hear nothing but the constant thrumming of my heart that seemed to mix with his voice, promising sweet nothings again and again.

"What?" 

He looks me in the eye for a lengthy second, and takes me away by surprise.

I am pressed against him, as his lips find a way to my own. I almost stumble to the ground, but his hands are sewn tightly around my waist, giving me support. As a result, a swarm of butterflies find their way to my stomach. My eyes widen in shock, taken aback by the sudden move. 

The kiss is passionate, sweet, soft, and everything I want it to be. Gentle and caring.

I should be closing my eyes and pulling him by the hair and bringing him close until there's no such distance between us, but I stop. 

I stare at him, dumbfounded, when we finally break apart. 

"Julian --" 

"Does that complete my sentence?" 

I gape at him in a lovestruck daze, memorizing the blue and violet flowers that ran through the vividly green bushes and how blue the sky was -- for it was a devilishly romantic spot, almost too good to be true. And his messy hair, the way violet beams in his eyes lit up with every smile, and the triumphant fire burning inside me, how I could never seem to extinguish it.

"Shorty. Ria. Shorty. Ria." I feel a hand shake me back and fourth. I touch my lips in bewilderment, avoiding any awkward eye contact. 

"Yeah. . . I just don't think I'm ready yet," I say shakily, because I'm still with Tyler.

And then realization hits me like a lightbulb. I give myself an idiotic face palm, and pinch myself hard. It was a dream -- unreal as can be.

"You -- you -- you!" 

"Last time I checked, you didn't speak in the 'one word' language. Like how Groot only says 'I am Groot.'" 

"Why are you here?" I query. 

"Because I'm not over there." he responds nastilly. "Have you forgotten that we're locked inside a library, all thanks to your brilliant idea of searching here. You ran away from me to read. I didn't know reading involved the closing of one's eyes." 

"And besides, what's better than annoying a short, stubborn girl such as yourself?" he teases, mimicking me by poking my cheek with his pen.

"Punching Julian Foster with my bare hands." I mutter aimlessly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," I reply with a hollow ache.

"Well. . . what did you dream of?" he asks.

"Stupid, fictional stuff." I say. 

"About?" 

I look into his eyes, and wonder if I can trust him. I narrow my options to a big, fat no and decide that keeping my mouth shut is the next best thing.

"A dumb couple who got theirselves blown up." he quirks an eyebrow in interest.

"Well that doesn't mean it's stupid, fictional stuff," he whispers, snaking his fingers on my thighs for a hot, unbearable second, but instantaneously detaches them before I can react -- before my dumb self asks if he knew about the events in my head.

He plops down to the bean bag next to me, as we lay there in silence, caged in four bare walls of misery. 

"20 questions?" he asks. 

"What about truth or dare?" I say. 

"Whatever. Let's just play," he responds, crossing his arms. 

"Truth or dare?" 

"Truth." 

"Do you have a girlfriend?"