It was when James tore himself away did she realize exactly what she had done and what repercussions it would have. And for a moment, she was faced with sheer horror as it dawned on her just how stupid that had been. It was made worse by the fact that she couldn’t write it off as meaningless, as much as she wanted to. She had half hoped that she would have felt nothing, that she would have been able to write it all off as some jealousy induced delusion. But that hadn’t been the case, and it had been hard to ignore the unfamiliar sensation in her stomach.
And James was staring at her angrily, freely scowling with his hands in fists. She didn’t know what she had expected- she hadn’t really had time to expect anything- but she hadn’t thought that he’d be so openly furious at her. She opened her mouth to explain herself but no words came, so instead, she tore her eyes from his face to stare guiltily down at her hands, embarrassed by her foolishness. She was suddenly aware of the fact that she was still sitting next to him, far too close to comfort, and she hurried to her feet, opting to lean against the wall by the door. She was half tempted to just leave, even that humiliation was better than this, but he deserved some sort of explanation.
Katherine had never lacked any confidence, but all of that self-assurance seemed to be drained from her now. She had never felt so self-conscious and vulnerable, and this was read plainly in her posture, with her arms crossed around her stomach and her shoulders hunched forward as she nervously bit her lip. She was at an utter loss, and she couldn’t even begin to think of what to tell him.
The first thought that came to mind was to lie, to just say anything but the truth. She could claim that she was only teasing, that it was some sort of, she didn’t know, some kind of fucking prize for putting up with her for so long, that it meant nothing. She could admit that it was stupid and unfair, he’d readily acknowledge that, yell at her maybe and sulk for a while. But it’d just be a normal fight; they’d get over it, and maybe even laugh about it later. More importantly, they could still be friends.
But she couldn’t do that, she wouldn’t just lie to him. She couldn’t help but marvel bitterly at her former naivety; how could she have thought that telling him would be easy, something she could just say casually then move on? But she was just as aware of the fact that she had to do it. She’d be willingly destroying their relationship, actively ruining their friendship. And she was terrified.
“James…” She exhaled and straightened, willing herself to look at him, trying her best to reclaim any of her lost confidence. “I like you.” There. But she couldn’t stop there, and the words were spilling out of her mouth before she even had a chance to think about them. “A lot. I have for a while now. I know I shouldn’t, and I’m not idealistic enough to think that I st-” she faltered for a moment, swallowed, and forged on, “to think that you feel the same way, but I can’t change how I feel. I just thought you deserved to know.” She fell silent, her face a mask of grim determination. But she couldn’t hide the flicker of hope in her eyes, despite knowing just how juvenile and misplaced that hope was.