Speak Slow, Tell Me More

I may have been the harshest of cynics, but some things, some boys, could still get my blood racing. And he was one of them.

It was classic really. Black hair, a standard side fringe. Black skinny jeans that almost matched mine, with identical rips on the knees. Pale, almost icy skin that somehow still looked warm and inviting. Glittering, hypnotic, soulful sapphire-chip eyes outlined in black looked hopefully into mine as he worried at his soft-looking bottom lip. For a second, I couldn't help wondering what it would be like to kiss that lip.

Hey! I was cynical, not dead. I wasn't what you'd call a slut, but I still knew, and haven't forgotten now, how it feels to kiss someone new. That spine tingling rush that makes the world spin so much you think it'll trip you up. I didn't fall in love with boys or girls, but that never meant I wouldn't kiss them.

A purple sweatshirt all-too similar to my own caught by eye as I took a look at the beaten up, slightly too big for him, leather jacket covered in band names he was was wearing. I smile and pull the headphones out of my ears. Maybe someone human was joining the "god squad". (One of the many nicknames the students of my school've earned.)

Well, human and hot. ^^

"Umm, yeah, I was just wondering, are you at St James too?" He asked, still smiling shyly. "It's just, I think I'm meant to be walking this way, but I'm kinda lost, and didn't really know my way around here. And you're one of the only people who it looks like actually has my uniform, and like, looks human, and um, yeah, do you know the way?"

I don't know why, but even though this boy was easily a head taller than me, and looked like he could easily break a thousand teenage hearts with a single glance, or at least get them beating faster, that tiny shy little stuttering speech was enough to make me want go give him a big hug, take his hand and tell him it'll all be ok. As much as I'm sure that'd would have scared him. I settled for assuring him that I was indeed from St James, and was happy to show him the way.

As we walked the conversation flowed more than I thought was possible for someone I'd just met. You have to understand, I've never been the best with new people. Awkward silences, ironically the thing I hate the most, tend to reign supreme. But somehow we, for what of a better word, clicked. I found out his timetable matched mine almost to the letter, and manage to give him the heads up on which teachers would confiscate your spike, which ones would let you get away without coursework for a few weeks, and who was mostly likely to give him shit for the eyeliner (nearly everyone). We started onto bands, and I gave him a quick run down of the local music scene. We glossed briefly over past "love-lifes", pencil sketching the briefest of historys possible, throwing the current moment into a glorious technicolour.

Until he made one comment that threw the entire meeting into a scary, shadowy light.

We'd been walking for nearly 10 minutes, and were nearly at the school when he stopped and turned to me. He lifted a hand to rest on my shoulder, and stared straight into my eyes with those killer sapphires. I stood frozen like a deer caught in his headlights.

"I should warn you now. I fall easily. And when I fall, I fall fast and hard."