Lost

“Oh the joys of the fetal position.” He thought sarcastically as he sat in it. Once again there had been in a fight, and once again he had ended up huddled into a ball in his room. He hated it, Oh, how he despised it. These fights seemed to never end once they broke out. He could still hear the yelling, the loud crashes of things being thrown. He had to escape it. He opened his window and climbed out. Then turned and used the window ledge as a foothold to grab a hold of his roof. At that point he pulled himself up and sat there, staring at the beautiful stars. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the drawing of the girl. He studied it, seeing the intricate detail that was put into the forest. He could almost see the vines around the trees growing as he stared at them. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the beautiful piece of art.

But then he heard something. At first he thought it was his imagination, but then as he focused on it he realized it sounded like faint music, and, yes, he could recognize the song. He took his eyes from the girl and her forest to see the artist herself walking down his road, with her headphones keeping out the silence of the night. She was staring up into the sky, admiring the stars, and he sat there, admiring her. When her walking brought her to the front of his house he jumped down, without thinking, off his roof onto the solid ground.
The sudden movement had drawn her eyes, and there was an unspoken moment of surprise, relief, then to his astonishment, what looked like happiness. She smiled, and the affect was potent. She had never smiled before, at least not that he had seen. Her smile was breath taking, and her eyes locked into his almost brought him to his knees. Her hand moved, and switched off her mp3 player, but he didn’t notice until the deafening silence was restored.

She cocked her head in wonder, as if just realizing that it was strange that he had suddenly appeared like a creature of the night. She bit her lip and looked at the ground, not sure if she should talk or not; or even if she could, she wasn’t completely sure.
He opened his mouth, but nothing close to the English language came out. So they both just stood there. There wasn’t so much an awkward air as there was a nervous vibe. Then he felt his legs move underneath him. He couldn’t resist, just like everyday when he saw her at school, he had to be near her.

Soon they were standing inches apart. And he realized that he was still holding her drawing. She saw it and let out a quick breath of air in astonishment. This was the last place she had expected to find it, or him for that matter.
He offered the drawing to her, but she shook her head “You keep it” she said in a soft voice, barely above a whisper. It was the fist time he had heard her speak. Her voice was beautiful and wispy; it was soft and reminded him of down feathers for some reason, but he liked it and unwittingly smiled at her. She returned the smile, and he put the drawing back into his pocket.

He didn’t know where to start, so he began the only way he knew how, “Hey”. It sounded more nervous than he wanted.

“Hello” came the downy voice. It seemed to float through the air towards him; his ears then caught the beautiful sound.

She half turned at the sound of a nearby owl, and then, figuring out what was asking ‘who’, she turned back to him. Then she sat, right there, on the edge of the road, obviously exhausted from her long trek. He sat too. They both sat, cross-legged, staring at each other. She began to twirl the grass around her fingers, a common nervous habit. He watched her smooth hand draw circles in the greenery in front of his house. “It was a beautiful sight,” he thought.

He couldn’t resist, he reached out and cupped her hand in his. At this she looked up, a bit startled, but she didn’t pull away. She moved her hand within his, somewhat mindlessly, then laced her fingers around his. They fit perfectly. It felt like a dream, too good to be true; and maybe it was a dream, but it was one that neither wanted to wake from.
Soon enough they were both laying down in his driveway, just staring at the stars and listening to each other’s breathing. “Its a music of its own” she thought.