Every Word
ten.
I've had quite a few firsts with you. Like the first time I've cleaned a room with a girl. I honestly never thought I'd do that until I was married. But with you, I'd rather not dwell on that thought too long.
"I'm kind of busy." You said scratching your head. You stood in the door way of your home in a baggy t-shirt and gym shorts. A comforting sight.
"With what?" This was probably the third time I'd come to your house now to see if you'd wanted to do something, anything. I hadn't asked for your number yet, so I had no other choice. You didn't seem to be bothered by it, so I continued to stop by. "Can I help?"
"You could help." You stopped talking to think for a moment. "But you probably wouldn't want to help." You gave a smile mixed with a frown. It was cute, I hadn't seen you do it before.
"Believe me, I'd love to help you." I said this with my hands on my chest. I said it a bit sarcastically, but I hoped you took it seriously.
"I really don't know." You didn't want me around, and I was dying to know why.
"I was born a helpful person Samantha. It's just something you'll have to get use to." I shrug and give you a childish smile.
"Come inside." You say laughing and shaking your head. Finally I beat you. I smiled triumphantly as you turned around to lead me through your house "I'm cleaning my room by the way." You opened your bedroom door and all I could see was a laundry covered floor and over flown drawers.
One cabinet caught most of my attention. It was full of photographs, with film and old cameras seeping their way through the doors and drawers. "Photographer?" I questioned stepping over pants and shoes. I turn to look at you and am greeted with a flash.
"Nope, just a girl with an obsession." You smile and set the camera down.
Then we cleaned. I never imagined you a very messy person. That is until the day i saw your bedroom.
"You know why I really didn't want you over. Not just this time, but when I was sick?" You ask this while we go through your pictures, it would take years to look at every one.
"So it wasn't just because you were sick?" I set the pictures down and stare straight into your eyes.
"I mean, I really didn't want to make you sick but also because," you were nervous. It didn't take long to notice your speech habits. You only stumbled for words when you were nervous.
"You can tell me." I say this while reaching for your hands. I hoped you wouldn't mind this friendly gesture, you didn't. You had soft hands. I wondered how mine felt on yours.
"Well, my family, my mom and i that is, we don't have much money you know?" She looks down at our hands. "I thought, I mean you'd see this sad excuse of a home," You stopped talking again, "Now I realize how ridiculous this sounds." You laugh and look up at me.
"I don't care if you're not, well..." I didn't know how to say this.
"I know. I was just embarrassed I guess." You laugh a little more. Great. "And you are a really great guy, so I don't know why I would have thought you'd be like that." You thought I was a great guy.
"Well I think your great too." I think your perfect.
"I'm kind of busy." You said scratching your head. You stood in the door way of your home in a baggy t-shirt and gym shorts. A comforting sight.
"With what?" This was probably the third time I'd come to your house now to see if you'd wanted to do something, anything. I hadn't asked for your number yet, so I had no other choice. You didn't seem to be bothered by it, so I continued to stop by. "Can I help?"
"You could help." You stopped talking to think for a moment. "But you probably wouldn't want to help." You gave a smile mixed with a frown. It was cute, I hadn't seen you do it before.
"Believe me, I'd love to help you." I said this with my hands on my chest. I said it a bit sarcastically, but I hoped you took it seriously.
"I really don't know." You didn't want me around, and I was dying to know why.
"I was born a helpful person Samantha. It's just something you'll have to get use to." I shrug and give you a childish smile.
"Come inside." You say laughing and shaking your head. Finally I beat you. I smiled triumphantly as you turned around to lead me through your house "I'm cleaning my room by the way." You opened your bedroom door and all I could see was a laundry covered floor and over flown drawers.
One cabinet caught most of my attention. It was full of photographs, with film and old cameras seeping their way through the doors and drawers. "Photographer?" I questioned stepping over pants and shoes. I turn to look at you and am greeted with a flash.
"Nope, just a girl with an obsession." You smile and set the camera down.
Then we cleaned. I never imagined you a very messy person. That is until the day i saw your bedroom.
"You know why I really didn't want you over. Not just this time, but when I was sick?" You ask this while we go through your pictures, it would take years to look at every one.
"So it wasn't just because you were sick?" I set the pictures down and stare straight into your eyes.
"I mean, I really didn't want to make you sick but also because," you were nervous. It didn't take long to notice your speech habits. You only stumbled for words when you were nervous.
"You can tell me." I say this while reaching for your hands. I hoped you wouldn't mind this friendly gesture, you didn't. You had soft hands. I wondered how mine felt on yours.
"Well, my family, my mom and i that is, we don't have much money you know?" She looks down at our hands. "I thought, I mean you'd see this sad excuse of a home," You stopped talking again, "Now I realize how ridiculous this sounds." You laugh and look up at me.
"I don't care if you're not, well..." I didn't know how to say this.
"I know. I was just embarrassed I guess." You laugh a little more. Great. "And you are a really great guy, so I don't know why I would have thought you'd be like that." You thought I was a great guy.
"Well I think your great too." I think your perfect.