I glance beind me to the front door as it knocks. With my eyebrows furrowed, I push myself up from the couch. Mum wasn't supposed to be back for a couple of hours, and didn't know if Xander was expecting anyone. Then again, my friends and his friends just tended to turn up at our door whenever they wanted to. 
Grabbing Sookie by the collar as she follows behind me to the front door, I steer her away and upstairs to where Xander is in his room. Pulling the door open, my face drops immediately as I take in the sight in front of me. 
In a white shirt, completely soaked and see through from the rain, with hair sticking to his forehead and black jeans entirely drenched, Axel stands at the door. I saw his plane leave, so he shouldn't be here right now. But he's standing right here. His shirt almost completely see through from the rain, skin tight against his skin to show off the biceps I loved. His blue eyes were brighter as he stands there panting slightly. 
"Axel?" I question, still coming to the terms he's here in front of me. At my doorstep. "I saw your plane leave."
Axel's panting like he ran here from somewhere. His eyebrows are furrowed, the rain dripping down his face. He doesn't even have a bag with him, only the outline of a phone and his passport in the front pocket of his jeans. 
"It did leave. And I left with it," he says, regaining his breath. "I needed to tell you something."
"You flew sixteen hours back here just to tell me something?" I ask him, a slight smile on my face. Tingles burst through me as he nods. He's standing under the shelter of our roof right now, meaning the rain isn't reaching him yet. 
"Back in Barcelona, you wanted to ask me a question, but you never got the chance to. You've been wanting to ask me since," he continues, his chest rising and falling due to his increased building. "Ask me."
"Axel, I don't know if you're..."
He reaches forward, gently grabbing my hands with his large ones. I trace his knuckles, watching as he closes his eyes, exhaling at the smallest bit of touch. He melts into me, despite the touch being only my fingertips. When he opens them again, my lips part slightly. Never in my life have I seen a boy with so much love in my life. His eyes are so blue, so bright, and full of silent pleading and want. He leans down slightly, so he's looking at me. His cupids bow is tilted upwards slightly as he breathes in and out. 
"Ask me," he repeats, nodding gently, raindrops rolling down his forehead and landing at his feet. "I've got an answer."
I don't reply for a solid moment, just looking back at him. While I'm standing here in my blue pajama shorts and white tank, he took a sixteen flight back to California after being home for barely even a day, just so I could ask him the lingering question. With not even a suitcase, he stands in front of me, dripping wet from running here in the rain. He'd give me the joy of asking him in person, despite the effort it would have taken him. 
Never in my entire life, would I have ever imagined a teenage boy to do anything like that for me. The most I got was asking to hide out in the toilets, or go to the movies just for the boy to try and get inside my pants. That was what I thought love was, temporary. 
But this, this wasn't temporary. This was real, standing right in front of me, and permanent. He was real, and not just a boyfriend I had conjured in my head to cope with the fact I'd been alone for almost my entire life. While all my friends were having their teenage romance, I was just dreaming about it. 
But now I'm thankful I'd never found love at sixteen, or I might have missed the truest form of love at eighteen. 
Just looking at him, I wanted him so badly. I wanted all of him to be mine. His lips, his good days, his bad days. I wanted all of them to be just for me.