most of aaron's friends had started to complain about love and how complicated it apparently was at the age of fifteen, talking about how they didn't know what to feel and for who and how deeply they felt. aaron couldn't understand that. he had been in love since the first grade, with the same person; you

maybe it hadn't been love back then, he was six, which, by his definition, was a bit too young to feel love, but when the two of you had grown up alongside each other, he had noticed how you didn't outgrow him, and rather grew onto to him, he had fallen hopelessly in love. you were the embodiment of everything he ever wanted, with not a single flaw

he would always hear you complain about your insecurities that he either didn't notice or found way too beautiful to understand your dislike towards them, and he would make sure you grew to like them yourself

and the love hadn't gone away, he didn't want it to, but now that so much time had passed, he had decided that it was time for him to confess to you

now the two of you were walking through the streets of your city, elbows occasionally brushing against each other. aaron had thought he'd grown accustomed to your proximity, but his skin still grew all hot wherever you touched him

"so," he sighed, realizing this moment of silence would have to be the moment of revelation and he prayed that it wouldn't ruin the friendship. you had given him signs, too, right? right? or was that just misinterpretation. suddenly, aaron was anxious

"I gotta make a confession," the words tasted scary on his tongue and he heard his blood rushing in his ears, suddenly hyper-aware of his own body, "those dvd's you lost? I stole them"

he gave a lopsided grin. what the fuck aaron. why did he chicken out? he hadn't thought before spitting out the next best thing that wasn't his confession

"actually," he slapped himself mentally, feeling adrenaline rush through him, "I'm in love with you," he blurted out and was stunned that he had really done it, "have been. for... ever"