It's the day after the party and my encounter with Mason still hasn't left my mind.

I was partly right about saying how I was dreading a sleepless night to come when Haider dropped me home yesterday. Because that was how it had ended up being for hours on end- no matter how hard I tried, I just kept tossing and turning, unable to get those chocolate brown eyes out of my head. Eventually I managed to distract myself for a bit with the help of some Netflix and afterwards I had become so tired, I could no longer keep my eyes open.

I've thought a lot about what happened between Mason and I yesterday and am still unable to explain why he didn't go through with kissing me. Even after explaining the whole situation to Piper and Asha, I still can't  fathom how everything ended up the way it did.

I just want to spend the weekend in bed but unfortunately that's not going to happen because a certain annoying someone is insistent on dragging me along to the movies tomorrow. I had woken up today to a message from the devil himself saying that he had searched up some movie timings and that he had decided we're going to the 10pm screening.

Having that thought in my head all day and the anticipation of what will most likely consist of a good few hours of bickering with Eli, I've been content that I'll at least be left alone to my own devices today to effectively spend the whole day moping around my house.

At least that is until late afternoon when I get a knock on the door.

I'm in the kitchen, grabbing some stuff from the fridge when the noise of the doorbell breaks the peaceful silence that had settled. I furrow my brows, looking over my shoulder towards the hallway as I'm not really expecting anyone. My Mum's got a work thing on and I've been chatting to Asha and Piper on and off all day, both of whom are majorly hungover and struggling to get even more than 10 feet away from their beds right now.

Putting down my snacks on the kitchen counter, I wrap my dressing gown tighter around my waist as I go to investigate the unexpected visitor.

Only when I do eventually get to the door and open it to reveal the person on the other side, I'm instantly wishing I had just hid in silence until the unknown person had given up and gone away.

'Hey, Willow.' Mason greets me with an small smile.

I have to do a double take to make sure the boy I'm seeing on my doorstep is in fact Mason. And it is, even when I force myself to blink a couple times, the unrelenting image of him standing right in front of me still remains as clear as ever. It seems I spend a moment too long just staring at him in shock though when he raises an eyebrow at my shocked figure a second later.

'... Hi.' I reply quietly, biting my lip as I look away from him for a second to try and calm myself down.

I can't help but scream inside my head at him why he is even here. I don't think I've even fully processed just how truly awful and embarrassing yesterday night was let alone have I tried to prepare myself for how exactly I'll be able to face him after it. And yet here he is is.

I can feel his eyes on me, almost scrutinising me and yet I can't even muster up the courage to meet his gaze. After going back and fourth for a tedious amount of time last night, I still hadn't been able to decide how I would act towards him when I eventually saw him. Would I show just how angry I was and bring it up in a straightforward fashion or would I act all quiet and unsure around him and wait until he bought it up? Those were the options that had been swirling around my head all night long but now it seems crystal clear the second one was always going to be the only option for someone timid like me.

'You okay?' He mumbles in concern at my seemingly off demeanour as he steps a little closer to me.

I swallow in nervousness at his sudden action that means he's now standing a little too close for comfort for me. I have to force myself not to take an unconscious step back as I clear my throat and look up to calmly meet his eyes.

'I'm fine.' I say in a neutral tone, trying to seem as nonchalant as ever despite how fast my heart is currently racing inside my chest. 'Why are you here?'

Again, he seems a little taken aback at my not as friendly as usual approach and I can't help but wonder what else he would be expecting after the cowardly way he had bailed on me yesterday.

'Erm, I just wanted to make sure you got home safe yesterday. You haven't been answering my texts and I can't lie... I don't remember much of last night.' He explains with a shrug, sounding a tad embarrassed.

I'm not really paying attention to his words, half fiddling with the pockets of my robe and not in the mood to hear whatever poor excuse he has to say. That is, until I hear the latter part of his confession when my head snaps up.

Did I hear him properly? Did he just say he couldn't remember a lot of of last night?

There's a long moment of silence as he awaits my response. My eyes are desperately darting to his face in an urgent attempt to meet his gaze but he seems hellbent on avoiding making eye contact for some reason, brown eyes staring hard at anywhere in the moment that isn't me.

'You- you don't remember last night?' I urge in a state of disbelief, eyes wide in surprise at the possibility that he might not be able to recall the uncomfortable moment we had shared hours ago.

When he seems to hesitate in his reply, I find myself unconsciously taking a step towards him, not even realising myself just how much I need to hear confirmation that he can't remember what went down last night if that really is the case. A small frown takes over my face when he instantly leans back a little at my movement as if apprehensive of being too close to me. Deciding not too ponder for too long on his odd behaviour, I'm about to step back to my original place when he seems to quickly grow comfortable and bends nearer to me once again.

'Yeah. Uh... Most of it is a blur to be honest. Erm the last thing I actually remember was meeting up with you.' He explains as he bites his lip, head bowed down and eyes focused on his shoes.

'Oh.' I mumble in what would probably sound like almost defeat to another person and yet internally, I'm actually not quite sure how to feel.

'Hmm. We met up in the dining room, right?' He suddenly quips in a much louder tone, eyes suddenly flying up to finally meet mine for the first time in our conversation.

I find myself startled for a second at the intensity of his abrupt eye contact, my own gaze faltering at the intensity of his strong stare. Shaking my head to myself to refocus on what he had said, I begin setting him right, now with the knowledge that he seemingly really couldn't remember the events of our late night talk in the garden after all.

'No. No, we actually met up in the kitchen.' I quietly continue, cocking my head at him in confusion.

Was he really that drunk that he couldn't even remember seeing me? I mean that's what he's saying so who am I to say otherwise. But still, I mean yes, he had seemed drunk last night. That was for sure, but so out of it that he couldn't even recall the night's events? I know he had been drinking heavily on and off throughout the night and there's probably no doubt that he likely proceeded to get a absolutely smashed in the later hours of the party. Had he ended up drinking so much that the whole of yesterday evening and onwards had just warped into some kind of foggy blur?

'Oh. Damn, I guess I got more shit faced drunk than I originally thought then.' He chuckles in a strained manner, hand coming up to rub at his chin in thought. 'We're okay though, right? I didn't do anything to upset you or anything, did I?'

I stiffen at this, hands beginning to nervously fiddle with my dressing gown as my breath catches in my throat at his unexpected question.

This is it. Whether or not he remembers what happened doesn't matter anyway, what does is whether or not I now take the opportunity to confide in him about my feelings. A million things are racing through my mind as we both patiently wait for me to speak up. But the way I see it, I have 3 options.

Option 1, I could just outright honestly tell him him what had happened. That we had been this close to kissing until he had pulled away at the last second. For some reason though as I now stand here staring into his eyes, I can't bring myself to say these actual words, my stomach turning at the thought of having to speak about the painful way I had been rejected all over again.

Option 2, I could just leave out the part about me having leaned into and mutually welcomed the embrace and tell him he had been about to kiss me. This way, he wouldn't have to necessarily know that I like him back until he possibly questions me and so the ball would be in his court.

Or option 3, I could just keep quiet about the whole thing and act like it never happened in the first place.

Logically speaking, I know I should just tell him what had happened. Because I know in the back of my mind that what had almost occurred between us is something that I won't be able to forget about just like that. It'll be there in my head every single time we interact in what ever way.

And yet I can't, just can't.

I don't know what it is. Is it the self consciousness of having to tell a boy of my feelings for him for the first time? Is it the fear of the unknown of him possibly not liking me back in the way I want?

Regardless of what it is, I know that I had already decided what I was going to say the second he had stopped speaking. And that's nothing, I'm going to say silent and that's honestly nothing less than what I would expect from myself. Running away from my feelings and acting indifferent to stressful situations that really should be addressed is something I've kind of become a pro at. It's actually something I excel in which makes sense considering how awkward and non confrontational I am.

'Willow?'

Taking a deep breath in and looking up to meet Mason's eyes, it suddenly feels a little easier to breathe now I know the word 'kiss' won't have to be mentioned between us anytime soon.

Call me a coward all you want but suddenly the possibility of continuing to crush on Mason in secret rather than having to straightforwardly confess to him is looking incredibly appealing to me.

'Erm, after we met up yesterday. We went out to the garden and-'

'And what? I didn't do or say anything to make you annoyed at me, did I?' Mason panickedly interrupts with wild eyes. 'Because you're acting weird and you know how much I value us being friends, you mean a a lot to me and-'

'No, Mason.' I breathe in shakily as I interrupt his hurried rambling, trying to ignore the painful sting that had arose in my heart at the mention of his labelling of our friendship. 'Nothing happened. We just got a bit drunk, is all. I guess... that's why I've been acting weird. I've got a bit of a headache.'

I watch in an almost sadness as Mason proceeds to let out an exaggerated sigh of relief at my words, eyes finally losing that almost crazed look they had been wearing since the second I had set eyes on him.  

'Oh, okay. That's a big relief, not that you don't feel well, mind. But that we're okay. Do you want me to get you anything, maybe some chocolate sounds good? Or would you rather be left alone until you feel better then?' He probes in a now hushed and caring manner, gaze washing over my tired figure in concern.

Despite the numbness in my chest, I can't help but smile slightly at the appearance of his usual and kind self and way he knows me so well as to instantly suggest chocolate as a way to cheer me up.

'Thanks but no thanks, Mason. I think I'm just going to try and sleep it off, you know?' I assure with a shrug and a fake yawn in the hopes he'll get the message and leave.

'Yeah, course. Okay, well call me if you need anything, yeah?' He sternly instructs with a gentle smile.

'I will.' I nod in agreement, knowing fully well that I need my own space for the rest of the day and that there's no way in hell I will be contacting him anytime soon

'You better. Anyway, I guess I'll be seeing you on Monday then. Bye, Willow.' He announces with a grin before walking towards his parked car and sending me a brief wave before getting in.

I'd be lying if I said I don't instantly note the way he doesn't make any effort to hug me goodbye the way he always does. And yet right now with the headspace I'm in, I find myself feeling almost grateful he doesn't try to embrace me in the usual way as I'm not sure I could handle it right now.

I don't brother to stay to watch him pull out of my street like I usually do, instead choosing to send him one final tight lipped smile before ducking back into the comfort of my home and slamming the front door shut.

Leaning with my back flat against the door, I take a few seconds to think about our conversation. Oddly enough, I'm not not as relieved and happy as much as I thought I would be when I had just been wishing for this whole thing to go away yesterday. Because that's essentially what's happened, right? Mason can't remember and I'm acting as if nothing even happened, so why do I still feel so empty inside?

I'm still caught up in my head about all of it  when I finally walk back towards my bedroom because despite taking that brief moment to try and understand my feelings, I still feel as numb  and conflicted as I did when Mason first turned up on my doorstep.