Defying Gravity

"Night!" He shrieked, twisting awkwardly in his swing to look back at me.

"Push me higher, Night!"

Naturally, I gave him his way and shoved the swing as hard as I could in to the air. I watched as his brown locks flew behind him, tangling slightly, and then lifting about his softly sculpted face as he reached the point where he simply floated, defying gravity, before his small body came swinging back to earth, a lively giggle emenating from his lungs.

I smiled at the teenager, pushing him once more before taking a seat on the swing next to him. Only he could find so much pleasure in something so simple and childish.

"Night, watch me!" He yelled, waiting until the swing had reached its highest point before shoving his body from the seat and in to the air.

I stood up, my guard immediately flaring along with my paranoia. I helplessly watched as his body came crashing down on to the hard layer of sand coating the earth.

"Riley!" I yelped, running to his shaking form, but as I neared, I realized that he wasn't shaking due to fear or pain, but from laughter. He was laughing!

"Idiot!" I growled, slapping the back of his head as he stood to brush the sand from his clothing, laughter continuing all the while.

"Don't do that!"

"Aw, I'm sorry, Night. Did I scare you?"

"Pshh. As if. I just didn't want to have to explain to your mom that her stupid son broke his leg via swing set."

"Hey, I'm not stupid!" He pouted, sticking out his bottom lip and looking up at me with big, dark-brown eyes.

I sighed, "Whatever you say, Riley."

"I'm not!"

"Uh huh."

"I am highly intelligent!"

"Sure you are."

"I am..." He mumbled, looking down at his feet as he walked next to me.

I smiled softly at his childish pouting, before giving in to him like I always do.

"Maybe a little bit."

* * *

When we reached Riley's house, no one was home, as predicted. His father was a professor and worked long, unusual hours, while his mother spent 99% of her time shopping. It was safe to say that she was a shopaholic. It was no matter though. They had plenty of money to support her expensive hobby, and I kept Riley entertained while she was out and his father was at work.

"So, pizza or chinese?" Riley asked, sitting on the floor and untying his lime-green converse, completely ignoring the perfectly good chair to his left, but that was just Riley. He was weird like that.

"How about something healthy for a change?" I asked, kicking off my own slip-ons lazily and plopping down on the posh, white sofa.

"Like what O' wise one?" He giggled, laying across me and snuggling his head in to my lap, practically begging with his eyes for me to play with his hair. I obliged.

"How about Subway?"

"But they don't deliver!" He whined, dragging out the 'R'.

"Well, then we'll make our own. I'm sure you have enough food in this house to start your own Subway anyways."

"True." He laughed, standing up from his spot on my lap and pointing towards a set of mahogany doors.

"To the kitchen!"

* * *

By the time we were done filling our stomaches, there was a major mess in the kitchen. I raised my eyebrows at Riley, and he groaned audibly under my commanding gaze.

"But I don't want to clean it!!" He whined, hanging his head and dragging his feet as he walked towards the mess.

He looked up at me with big, whimpering eyes, and I simply nodded at him to continue. With a frown deeply set on his face, he began picking up the stray pieces of lettuce and cheese that scattered across the counters. Eventually, I pitched in and helped him, but not until after I had my fill of watching him do it. Simply put, Riley never cleans. He was never forced to as a child, because, after all, they did have a buttler and a maid. In fact, they still did. I just found enjoyment in forcing him to do something he found grotesque. I guess that says something about me.

"Are you happy now?" Riley asked once we had finished.

"Very." I replied, taking a seat on the newly cleaned counter.

"You're so difficult." He sighed, standing between my open legs and leaning against my chest, snuggling his head in to the fabric of my shirt.

"You're so--" I began, but was cut off by the sudden realization of what time it was.

"Shit! I have to go, Riles. It's past curfew." I swore, pushing him back slightly and jumping from the counter.

He looked at the clock on the wall that read 6:37 and groaned in dissatisfaction.

"Why are your parents so weird? You're seventeen and still you have to be home before the streetlights come on."

"I know. I'm sorry, but I'll see you tomorrow at school, okay?"

"Want me to walk you home?"

"No, I'll be fine." I sighed, pulling him in for a tight hug and a light kiss on the cheek.

"See you tomorrow, Riley."

As I exited the mansionesque house I heard a soft call of "goodbye".