Quiet Boys.

Friend.

When I got home, I took another shower.
I shower often, actually.
When I’m stressed, when I’m confused, when I’m cold.
I guess this time it was a combination of all three. I was stressed and confused because Parker was making me talk to her, making me spend time with her, and making me really enjoy it. I was also cold, but then again I was always cold.
And she was right.
I wanted to hold her hand and dance in the rain with her and drink expensive wine with her.
Because honestly, she wasn’t normal.
Normal wasn’t in her vocabulary.
She said everything she thought of, and though some people would have found her clinically insane, I found her demanding and refreshing. She was someone who knew how to make me tick.
She made talk and spill my guts.
She was probably the closest thing I had to a friend.
And so, as I got out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around myself and sat down on my bed to think.
I had never met anyone so bold, quirky, so fucking interesting.
And I don’t cuss. I don’t get flustered. I just exist. I was a robot, until now.
Nobody noticed me, nobody started out of the ordinary conversations with me or complimented my artwork or asked me to spend time with them, or kept on questioning me until I told them how I really felt.
Nobody talked to me, period.
Why’d she see me when no one else did?
Why was I so different to her?
She had asked me that question today, and so now maybe I would ask her. If only I could gather up the courage. I could barely reply to her normal questions without stuttering, let alone ask my own very important ones.
My chest was heavy right now, thinking about how we weren’t talking.
But this was new, and different.
I wasn’t confusing this with feelings of lust. I wasn’t sure we wanted to kiss each other. I wasn’t sure I wanted to touch her bare skin. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to brush her hair behind her ear.
All I was sure of was I wanted to speak to her. I wanted her to continue to fascinate me and make me have real feelings.

________

I decided it was best to leave Awkward Ivan alone for a little while. I would talk to him in the morning. If he needed me, I’d be laying in my twin size bed, dreaming in black and white.
I really, really adored that I scared him in that dry mouthed, stomach dropping way. Because I knew what that feeling was. I’d had it once before. That was the feeling of a crush.
It was a good feeling. An anxious feeling.
He was already so anxious, I couldn’t imagine him getting much worse. But maybe I’d find that quite adorable too.
He had been like a lost puppy this evening, following me around. It made me chuckle to myself.
I always liked puppies. With wet noses, and soft fur, just waiting for you to touch them.

________

Good morning, sunshine.

Parker Reynolds. I’ll reply quicker this time.

Good morning. I am not weak.

I wondered if she would remember.

You better believe that, babe.

She remembered.

My mouth is dry.

I waited in anticipation. I was being bold.

Good. I’ll get the wine glasses.

Of course she remembered.
Today would be a good day.
I was wondering though, I’d known of her for nine days.
Is this really how it worked?
Then again, it’s Parker Reynolds. It doesn’t matter how it works, does it?
She breaks rules and changes everything up and doesn’t care what destruction she leaves behind.
It isn’t her job to pick it up.
It’s only her job to risk everything for happiness.
♠ ♠ ♠
Two updates within twenty-four hours, oh yes.
I'm just on a fucking roll, and so I was like, yep. Let's update again.
Feedback makes me better. Isn't that what we want?