She said it. Finally, she did.

It came to a point that it turned out to be a now or never moment. To say it or she will never will. 

She should not say it. She knew in every fiber of her being, she should not. Not now. Not ever. She made that decision the moment when she fell in love with him. 

The more that she fell in love with him, the more she felt scared. She felt butterflies in her stomach and felt sick at the same time because of the fear of him finding out, noticing something about her. Something that had changed. That she was in love with him and scared to find out if he felt the same way. Because there was a possibility that he was not. 

She tried her very best to act the way she used to when he was around. That was the best solution that she could think of at that time. 

Turned out she should have done the opposite. Let him notice about what she felt about him even at least once. At least she could say she tried even if she knew she would fail. Miserably. She was sure, at any direction she looked at it. To confess or not. In the end, she still would lose him either way. 

This is Henry we are talking about. Henry who is friendly to everyone. Henry who flirts to every girl he knows. Henry who might already have a girlfriend but he would not tell her because I disapprove to every girl he introduces to her because of a really obvious reason. (And she could sense they were using him for fame, so she let them have their five minutes of fame before telling them to off.) 

-x-

(“Why do you always say that to every girl?”

“Because every time you flirt back to them, they multiply, and leech onto you and the fame out of you and other things.” She reasoned back. 

His eyes widened the best that he could. They still looked small. 

“Oh please. Do not act all innocent on me. She was not kissing you. was too low.” 

“Stop ruining my chances with every girl.”

“I cannot promise you that.”

“Is it because you love me?” 

She was shocked momentarily. Her mind went blank. How not to appear obvious.

“Of course. I love you.” 

He smirked.

“Not romantically. I am doing this out of concern.”

“And love.”

“Do not make say it again.”

“Because you love me~” He teasingly sang. “I love you too, Amber.”)

-x-

Courageously, she said it. Loud and clear. She did not even stutter. She kept it simple, and straight to the point. It was easier than she thought it would be. 

Took her back where they were at the cinemas. Row 9. When she looked at him and she knew it was love. That she loves Henry with every fibre of her being. Cheesy as it might have sounded. That is what she feel. She thought she was stronger than this. To fight the feelings. To not be in love with him. But she is. 

Did he felt the same way too? He did not answer at first. He had no reaction. Just standing there. It felt like years though had passed. 

The fear of confessing and of him noticing, him knowing, could not even compare to what he might answer to that question. Does he love her back?

He did reply. He said it even louder, even clearer, than she ever did. 

She felt an even tighter grip around her heart. She rarely cries especially in front of him, so she just sat there beside him quietly, awkwardly. Yet, her tears did not decide to cooperate with her though. 

She could not even look at him though she knew he was looking at her, wanting to hug her, as that comforting gesture could pick up the pieces of her broken heart, and savaged the friendship that they had finally and undoubtedly ended earlier that night. 

He could not find any words to follow what he just said that broke her heart, that had hurt her badly. He wished he could lie about it, about his feeling. But he could not lie to Amber. 

So she just left him there as the tears continue to fall. The tears was not only because of him and what he just said, but also for herself, for thinking he could also fell in love with her. All this time, she was the one who was stupid. She was the one who has that crazy idea of him loving her back.

She avoided him. He did not though. He just did not bother to talk to her about it afterwards. He had nothing left to say. A sad reminder that their friendship was over. 

They were friends. Just friends. Though she hoped they were more than that. Because of a simple and truthful, yet hurtful reply, it was over. 

What if it was the reply she wanted to hear. She would not still be crying. She would not be avoiding him. What if. 

Bonus: 

Six-words stories

(A/N: I hope I understood what six-words stories are)

Perfect for each other. Of course.

Perfect for him. Yes, she is.

“I love you”. It’s true, Love.

“I don’t love you.” A joke.

 
Shows her a ring. She apologizes.

 
She walks away. Didn't stop her.

 
“Forever” and “never”. Those were lies.

Not worth it. She ended it.

(A/N: and if you have noticed it, it turned to be a drabble using six words stories.)