“I don’t want anything serious.”
She’d said it over and over. She didn’t want anything serious. She didn’t want to commit. She didn’t want love. She just wanted a bit of fun.
Every time she said it, Basil would just roll his eyes. “You know I’m not like that, Darling.” It always happened the same way.
And every time, Sarah would respond, “I know.” She would tell herself that it was silly and stupid that she would ever have to tell him that, but somewhere in the pit of her stomach, Sarah knew that he was trouble. Sarah knew that if she wanted to, she could start something really serious – only to realize when it was too late.
~
He pinned her against the wall, trapping her so that she couldn’t even think about moving. If Basil had his way, he would keep her there forever, kissing her like he’d never be able to kiss her again. It would be a lie to say that he wouldn’t mind her staying forever, but neither of them wanted to commit.
Lips pressed together, they were a clash of teeth and tongues. There was always a brief moment where neither of them knew which part belonged to whom – they were one, just for a few solid seconds, and neither of them wanted to admit it.
Neither of them was allowed to admit it.
Sarah broke apart with a soft moan, whispering, “Nothing serious.” It was a constant reminder, and it wasn’t just for Basil.
~
On Valentine’s Day, Basil surprised Sarah with tickets to a Holyhead Harpies-Wimbourne Wasps match. She wasn’t a flowers-and-candy type of girl, after all. Basil knew that about her. Basil knew a lot of things about Sarah. And sometimes, that pulled at Sarah’s heartstrings.
Sarah forbid herself to think about how he could tug at her heart in the most ridiculous of ways – after all, they were nothing serious, and she didn’t want anything more than a casual shag every so often. Valentine’s Day was just a nice perk.
When they went to the match that night, Sarah watched excitedly, squeezing Basil’s hand every time the Harpies scored. It was just a celebratory gesture. She swore, she meant absolutely nothing by it.
She meant absolutely nothing by it, even as he backed her into a classroom door after the match, kissing each other like it was absurd to even think of kissing anyone else.
It was nothing serious.
Sarah fumbled with the doorknob, stumbling backward when it finally opened, never letting him break the kiss. She tugged on his collar until her thighs hit the teachers’ desk. Leaning back until she was laying on her back, Basil followed quietly, both of them pushing off any of the teaching supplies in their midst.
Tugging her shirt up and off, Sarah convinced herself that this was nothing serious in the slightest. Not even when she breathed heavily, murmuring his name when she felt his teeth at her collarbone.
Once they had finished, Sarah sucked in a deep breath, keeping his head tucked against her chest.
He could feel her heart beating under his ear, and Basil tried to convince himself – it was nothing serious. He wondered if she was thinking the same thing, and if it broke her heart as much as it broke his.
~
After stealing the entire supply of cookies from the kitchens and stowing it away in the perfect hiding spot, Sarah decided that she wasn’t tired enough to go to bed. She was never tired enough to go to bed – most of the time, Basil would have to force her to go sleep so that she wouldn’t die in her classes the next day.
This time, though, Basil wanted to stay with her. They sat against a wall in the third floor corridor, the sun starting to rise over the horizon.
They talked about nothing and everything for an hour. Basil sighed as he looked over at her, the morning sunlight hitting her pale skin. He bit his lip as she looked at the floor and pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
“Sarah?” he asked quietly, a serious look suddenly appearing on his face.
Sarah caught his eye and couldn’t look away. Her cheeks colored the slightest bit when she realized that they were both staring at each other without any shame at all. She convinced herself over and over that he wasn’t anything serious, that
this wasn’t serious.
They watched each other silently, knowing exactly what the other was thinking – this was a new addiction. This was their whole life.
This was too serious to stop.
