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MidReal Story
My Best Friend's Secret Crush
Scenario:I was friends with this guy, he was hot, and I liked him, but he didn't know I liked him. he was my best friend, and one day he invited me over to his house
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Maggie
first_person_protagonist, female. She is a young woman navigating complex feelings of friendship and infatuation. She is imaginative, selfconscious, and hopeful. Maggie has been best friends with her childhood friend, Atticus, since they were kids. As they grew older, her feelings for Atticus become more intense, yet she struggles to express them without jeopardizing their friendship. After a night filled with anticipation, Maggie finally confronts Atticus and reveals her feelings, facing potential rejection and emotional vulnerability.
Atticus
side_character, male. He is Maggie's childhood friend and confididante. He is protective, kind, and reserved. Atticus takes care of Maggie after she crashes at his house following a car accident. Their friendship deepens over the years, but he remains unaware of Maggie's romantic feelings for him. Atticus hosts Maggie at his home for a night, leading to a moment of potential revelation about his feelings and their relationship's direction. He is charming and caring, earning Maggie's admiration and longing.
I was friends with this guy.
He was super hot, and I liked him.
A lot.
Like, way more than a friend should, and way more than I ever had a right to.
But he didn't know that.
He just knew me as his best friend, and that was all I ever was going to be to him if I didn't told him how I felt.
It sucked.
It really did.
But it was something I was never going to do.
I wasn't going to take that chance and risk what we had had for so long.
It started in kindergarten when he held me on my first day because I was crying, and it went all the way up until the present day when he still looked over me even though we were both twenty-one now.
It was a deep friendship, one I cherished, and one I never wanted to lose.
Even if it killed me inside that I could never be with him.
That’s where it started, but it didn’t stay there.
As the years went by, I began to notice all the little things about him.
Like how he always held the door open for me.
How he picked me up every morning to take me to school.
How he always put me first, and made sure I was happy before he worried about himself.
How he looked at me when he didn’t think I was watching.
It was a look that said he wanted more than just friendship.
A look that said he wanted me, and it would be okay if I told him that I wanted him too.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
And then one day, after we graduated and were getting ready to move on to the next phase of our lives, he did something that changed everything.
He asked me out on a date.
My phone vibrated in my hand, and I fumbled for it in my purse on the floorboard of my car.
I pulled it out and unlocked it, my heart already racing because I knew what I would see when I opened our text thread.
The text from Atticus that I had read over and over again since it came through an hour ago. It was still there, waiting for me to respond, and I stared at the words like they might change if I read them enough times.
"Hey Mags. You free tonight? Want to come over and hang out?"
My thumbs hovered over the keyboard as I thought about it for a few seconds, but then before I could talk myself out of it, I typed "Sure" and hit send.
I didn't have time to second guess myself or worry about what he meant by his invite because I had to go back to work.
It was my last day working at my dad's law firm, and even though he would probably never admit it, he was sad to see me go.
I was going to miss working with him every day, but this was what I had been working toward for the last three years in college.
I had gotten a job offer with a big law firm in New Orleans, and tomorrow morning I would be driving down there to start training for the next month. After training, they would place me in one of their satellite offices around Louisiana, and hopefully one of those offices would be near Baton Rouge where Atticus lived so we could stay close like we had always been.
I wasn't going to tell him about the job yet though because it would make things weird between us if he knew how long we were going to be apart.
Better to just keep it to myself for now until things settled into place a little more.
Later that evening, as I sat on Atticus's couch, he turned to me with a serious expression.
"Mags, there's something I need to tell you before you leave for New Orleans," he said, his voice steady but his eyes searching mine.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my own nerves in check. "What is it, Atticus?"
Atticus sat on the worn leather couch next to me, his eyes locked on mine.
The living room seemed smaller than usual, the scent of his cologne filling the air and the sound of rain pattering against the windows.
He fidgeted with his watch, a nervous habit I had noticed since high school.
When our eyes met, I saw uncertainty in his expression.
He shifted closer, our knees almost touching.
My fingers gripped the edge of the couch as he reached toward my face.
Time seemed to slow down as his fingertips brushed against my cheek.
"Mags, I've been thinking about this for a long time," he began, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't want to just be your friend anymore; I want us to be more than that."
My heart skipped a beat as I searched his face for any hint of hesitation, but all I found was sincerity.
My breath caught in my throat as I leaned forward, the worn leather creaking beneath me.
The dim light in the living room cast shadows on Atticus's face, his eyes widening as I shifted closer.
Outside, a low rumble of thunder echoed through the air, mingling with the sound of raindrops hitting the windows.
His hand trembled slightly against my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin.
The familiar scent of his cologne grew stronger, filling my senses.
My fingers released their death grip on the couch, moving hesitantly to rest on his forearm.
The steady drum of raindrops created a soothing background noise, and I tilted my head upward, watching as Atticus's gaze dropped to my lips.
"Mags, I know you're leaving for New Orleans, but I can't let you go without telling you how I feel," he confessed, his voice steady despite the storm outside.
"Atticus, I... I didn't know," I stammered, my mind racing with the implications of his words.
He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. "I love you, Mags. I've loved you for years."
My heart pounded in my chest, the words echoing through my mind like a mantra.
I leaned forward, drawn to him like a magnet.
The leather couch creaked beneath us as I shifted closer, my fingers sliding up his arm to rest on his shoulder.
Atticus's eyes widened slightly, watching my every move.
The rain continued to drum steadily against the windows, but all I heard was the sound of our breathing.
His cologne grew stronger as I moved into his space, and my lips parted as I searched for the words I had held back for so long.
They escaped in a whisper against his skin, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
"I love you too, Atticus."
His face drew closer, his hand tightening on my shoulder.
The leather couch creaked beneath us as he shifted his weight, his breath fanning across my cheek.
Thunder rumbled outside, but I barely heard it over the pounding of my heart.
Atticus's hand slid from my face to cradle the back of my neck, pulling me gently toward him.
I closed my eyes, feeling the slight tremor in his fingers.
His cologne enveloped me, and the gap between us disappeared.
"Mags, are you sure about this?" he murmured, his breath warm against my skin.
"More sure than I've ever been," I replied, my voice steady despite the storm within me.
He smiled softly, relief washing over his features. "Then let's not waste any more time."
I held my breath as his fingers traced along my jaw, tilting my face up to his.
The leather couch creaked beneath us as he shifted closer, his other hand sliding around my waist.
Lightning flashed outside, illuminating Atticus's face for a split second - his eyes were dark with desire, focused entirely on me.
When his lips finally met mine, they were soft but insistent.
I gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as years of longing poured into that first kiss.
The leather couch creaked beneath us as I pressed myself against him, my fingers gripping his shirt tighter.
Atticus shifted, both hands now firmly on my waist.
Thunder crashed outside, but I barely heard it over the sound of our ragged breathing.
His cologne filled my lungs with each breath between kisses, and when I parted my lips, he responded immediately, deepening our connection.
The storm's flashes illuminated his face in bursts as we lost ourselves in years of pent-up desire.
I pulled back slightly, my chest heaving as I caught my breath.
Atticus's hands stayed firm on my waist as the rain drummed against the windows.
The leather couch creaked beneath us, and I could feel his heart pounding beneath his shirt.
His dark eyes searched mine in the dim light, and when he reached up to brush my hair back, his fingers lingered on my cheek.
I shifted closer, my fingers tracing patterns on his chest through the fabric of his shirt.
His hands tightened on my waist as another flash of lightning illuminated the room, and the steady drum of rain against the windows matched the pounding of my pulse.