A/N: A reader and a friend of mine, riskawn, gave me this fic request: Make a fic about Ne-yo's song, "Let Me Love You (Until You Learn to Love Yourself)"

I have read the lyrics and listened to the song a few times and finally I have come up with a fic to post. I hope I understood the meaning of the song. Enjoy! 

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Amber was busy browsing pictures and reading comments under each post over the internet while Henry was looking at the blank paper in front of him, and tried to take a peek of Amber’s assignment in placed above her big binder notebook. She saw the paper with her name on it, covered by her old exams, lifting those said papers using his pencil.

Amber closed her binder as she was still looking at the screen of her mobile phone. “Mind your own work, Mister.”

“Come on, a little help here.” Henry pleaded for Amber’s help on their assignment for Language and Literature due tomorrow.

“Henry, the assignment is to write about personal experience about first love. Per.so.nal.” Amber was still not looking at him. “Do you want me to define that to you?” She then saved the photo she saw on her phone.

So Henry attempted again to get the binder and that plan resulted to Amber hitting his hand. “Aww! But Amber the thing is I can’t put that experience in writing.”

“You can’t or you won’t because you know you are scared to show your emotions and your soft side – Henry who fell in and out of love.”

“It is more like Henry who fell in love.” He spoke softly.

“Are you telling me you are still in love with your first love?” She finally put down her phone, stood up and sat beside Henry. And he responded with a nod.

“Then why is it hard for you to write about, I assume her?”

“Of course I am in love with a girl.”

“Just checking. See, if it is that easy for you to admit that, why can’t you finish the assignment?"

Henry couldn’t find the right reply to her.

“Does she even know you are in love with her?”

Henry was about to give the answer.

“Don’t answer, because I already know.”

“You do?” Henry’s eyes widened.

“Yeah. You haven’t confessed to this girl.”

“I haven’t yet.”

“So do I know this girl?”

Henry was again about to give the answer.

“Stop! I don’t want to know her. Love is so complicated for me to actually understand your dilemma.”

“How would you know that love is so complicated? Now I want to read your assignment.” Henry reached for her binder again.

“Hey.” She grabbed her binder. “There is this thing called privacy. And I like to protect mine. You can’t just read it just because we are close.”

“I would just copy the format of how you wrote it, the details you included and left out.”

“Ms. Hwang didn’t give out any format needed to be used.” She placed her binder inside her bag.

“At least tell me the story, I will tell you mine.” He smiled at her.

“Why are you so curious?”

“I don’t know. Because we are best friends and this, whatever, this is,” his hand hovering over Amber, “whoever I am with now, this side of you is something that I just knew about. And I thought I know you well.”

“You know me. I am still the Amber you grew up with.  We have been through a lot but there are still things I don’t share to you, for instance, first love.”

“Why? Because you think I will just laugh at you. I know I joke about serious things sometimes but I just do that to lighten up the mood. For goodness sake, we are still young to that serious about things happening around us.”

“Okay. I will tell the story.”

“Really?” Henry pulled his chair, moving closer to Amber.

“Really. It will be our little secret. Pinky promise?”

“Are we too old for this?”

Amber moved away from Henry, “You said a while ago, we are still young. Now, we are too old. Make up your mind.”

“Pinky promise.” Henry pulled Amber’s chair closer to him, and intertwined his pinky with hers. “There.”

“I will tell my story if you tell yours first.”

“But…”

“Tell me yours first.”

“I thought of a better way to settle this. Rock, paper, scissors.”

“Game”

“Rock, paper, scissors”

“Rock beats scissors. I win.” Henry told Amber.

“Best of three?”

“Fine.”

“Rock, paper, scissors”

“Yes. 1-1”

“Rock, paper, scissors”

“Scissors beats papers. 2-1. I win.”

“Damn it!”

“Stop shouting at my ear, Josephine. So who is this luckiest guy in the world?”

“Remember what I said earlier about love.”

“That love is complicated.” Henry recalled; his arm over her shoulder.

“Correct. So I decided not to fall in love. I will just submit a paper with name and date on it. No story to share.”

“How would you say that love’s complicated when you haven’t fallen in love?”

“What makes it complicated is the process of knowing whatever you feel is love or not.”

“So you are saying that you might have fallen in love before but you didn’t know.”

“Yes, exactly. And maybe I am in love right now. I am not sure.”

“Is it okay for you to be not sure?”

“I guess so.”

“Is there a part of you that want to be sure?”

“I don’t think about this too much because it scares me.”

“Falling in love scares you.”

“The whole process scares me – falling in and out of love so I chose to be unaware of whatever I am in love or not. It is better that way.”

“Love is complicated. I guess it is my turn now. There is this certain moment that I realize that I am in love with her. I have always been. When I am with her, I feel that time slows down and speeds up at the time. I feel like I have been with her for a whole day since she and I talks about anything that comes to mind yet only,” he quickly took a glimpse of the time shown by his digital watch without Amber noticing, “it just have been an hour or two. That makes me even want to spend more time with her more than anyone else. I enjoy every minute of it.”

“There, all you need is to write that down and submit it tomorrow. That girl is one lucky girl. No, luckiest, to have someone like you who loves her so much.”

“How nice of you not to be jealous.”

“Why would I be? Clearly, she doesn’t love you as much as I do. No one will.”

“See, you do have your first love. Me.” He pointed at himself.

“I will write about you then. There, we both have assignments.”

“Don’t worry about me, okay? She does love me. I hope she realizes that.”

“It is only a matter of time.”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? Tomorrow? But why do I feel that this girl already realize that she already head over heels in love with you?”

“Oh. Now.”

“Nah. Ten minutes ago”