Butterflies in My Stomach - Story

[Unknown1892]

really in need of the next parts of this story

 

[fmbttm]

Part 6 3/3


His hand stayed on mine. Not moving, not pressing, just there—warm, steady, real. I wanted so badly to turn and look at him, to see if his face gave away even the smallest clue of what this meant. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. We were still surrounded by the others, their laughter floating around us, their voices mixing with the night air.





It almost felt like the world had split in two—them, on one side, living their normal night out, and us, on this tiny bench, our hands touching like it was the most fragile secret in the world.





I shifted slightly, just enough so that my little finger brushed against his. The tiniest touch, but it sent a shock through me. I swear, I forgot how to breathe for a second.





“Cold?” Lukas whispered suddenly, leaning his head closer, his voice low enough so only I could hear.





I shook my head quickly, whispering back, “No. Not really.”





But he smiled—just barely, the corner of his mouth lifting—and his thumb moved. A soft, almost invisible stroke across the back of my hand. I froze. He didn’t pull away, though. He just left it there, like it was the most casual thing in the world, but my chest was burning, my stomach twisting in the best way.





The others kept talking, arguing about which way we’d head next, but I couldn’t even process their words. Every ounce of me was tuned to the warmth of his skin on mine, the closeness of his voice, the way the glow of the city lights painted his jawline when he turned his head.



I leaned a little closer—just enough so my shoulder brushed against his. “You’re… different tonight,” I whispered, almost without thinking.



He tilted his head, his eyes flicking to me for a fraction of a second, then back to the skyline. “Different how?”




I swallowed. “I don’t know. Just… good different.”



He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gently pressed his knee against mine, as if to test me. When I didn’t move away, he left it there, solid against me, like we had drawn an invisible line no one else could cross.



“Maybe it’s just the night,” he whispered back finally, his voice lower this time, almost soft enough to get lost in the wind.


Maybe it was the night. Or maybe it was him.


We sat like that for what felt like forever—hands secretly joined, knees touching, shoulders brushing just enough to make my whole body tense and melt at the same time. I kept stealing tiny glances at him, the glow from the lampposts catching in his light blue eyes, his lips forming the smallest smiles whenever the others laughed.


And every single time, I thought: If only he’d look at me the same way I look at him.

when the others finally waved their goodbyes and drifted off into the night, I thought Lukas would leave too. But he didn’t. He stayed where he was, hands shoved into his pockets, staring at the glow of the city like it was keeping him there.



“You heading home?” I asked quietly, trying to sound casual.



He glanced at me, then back to the skyline. “Not yet. Don’t really feel like it.”



The silence stretched, not uncomfortable, but charged. I swallowed hard, my heart drumming. “Want me to walk a bit more with you?”



He gave the smallest smile, one I almost missed in the shadows. “Yeah. I’d like that.”


So we walked. Just the two of us now, the noise of the others gone. The park felt different suddenly—emptier, quieter, like the world had shrunk down to only us. The air was cool, the streetlights throwing long golden shadows on the path. Every time our steps lined up, my arm brushed his. Each time, I felt my chest tighten.



We ended up by a small playground, the kind that looked abandoned at night. Lukas nodded toward the swings. “Sit?”



I nodded, and we each took a swing, the chains creaking softly. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was so thick I could hear my own heartbeat, feel it in my throat.



“You know,” Lukas said finally, pushing gently at the ground with his sneakers, “it’s weird. Being here feels… good. Like I don’t have to think too much.”



I looked at him. He wasn’t facing me, just staring down at his shoes, but the words felt heavier than they sounded. I wanted to say something back, something that matched it, but all I managed was a whisper: “Yeah. Me too.”



He glanced at me then—just for a second, but long enough for our eyes to lock. My stomach flipped so hard I had to grip the swing chain tighter.



The silence returned, but this time it was different. Warmer. Closer. I leaned back on the swing, letting it rock slightly, and when I looked over, he was watching me. Not smiling, not laughing—just watching.



“What?” I asked, my voice softer than I meant it to be.



“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head quickly, but there was that little smile again, the one that made me feel like he was hiding something.



I didn’t push. I couldn’t. Instead, I dragged the toe of my shoe across the dirt and whispered, “You’re impossible sometimes.”



He laughed quietly at that, the sound low and warm. Then, slowly, almost like it wasn’t even a decision, his knee brushed mine again—this time on purpose. He left it there.



My chest tightened. My stomach flipped again. The entire world seemed to collapse into that single point of contact.



We stayed like that—knees pressed, swings creaking softly, the night holding us in its quiet—for what felt like forever. No one around. Just him. Just me.




And when eventually he leaned in, so close his shoulder brushed mine, so close I could feel his breath against my cheek, he whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”





I froze. Not because of fear, but because the way he said it—so soft, so fragile—made my entire body ache.





“I won’t,” I whispered back, my voice breaking just slightly.





And then neither of us moved. Just the two of us, sitting too close on those old swings, pretending we were just friends, while every inch of me screamed that this moment was anything but ordinary.





(Sorry that you now have to wait for the next part I still hope you liked these parts)

Really took me back to highscool, had the biggest crush on this boy. Ryan. Was down BAD!!!

This story is so damn cute!! Love the character development and how innocent they are. Really good! Can’t wait to keep reading!