Three weeks and six days had been lost in a haze.
Curtis lay on the grass scribbling.
Mike leant on the tree stump, he wrote so hard the pen looked like it would puncture the paper.
Our paper was due in twelve hours and none of us had managed to even glance at a pen and paper to write with or on. I stood up, brushing strands of grass that had gripped on my skin creating an odd array of indents on my thighs.
I sat on the trye swing; Curtis joined me a few minutes later. Mike was to intent on his paper to notice if either of us had moved.
“So, what’s your vast opinion of life Eve?” He asked, gripping on the rope with one hand.
“It’s tolerable” I shrugged, gripping onto the rope with both hands. The rope burnt in the soft skin of my palms as I shifted.
He laughed.
“To some”
“Not to you?” I asked.
“It has been, lately” He paused.
“You are changing my opinion” He smiled down at me, almond eyes gleaming.
I nodded, humming slightly.
“So life to you isn’t shit?”
“Oh no” He chuckled “It still is, but it’s better”
“Because of me?”
“Yes” He inclined his head, letting it brushing against the rope as it neared mine.
“But I’m just me?” I said.
“Exactly”
Than he kissed me, his lips brushing my cheek.
I blushed.
“Who knew my girlfriend would be so cute when she blushed”
I didn’t object I just smiled.
“Thank fucking god, now both of you will stop smiling at each other all the goddamn time and actually talk something other than shit” Mike rolled his eyes, winking at Curtis.
I shook my head jumping of the tyre swing and back to were my abandoned pen and paper lay, Curtis sat looking at the sky and I wrote the thoughts rushing in.
YOU ARE READING
Toxic Us.
SpiritualTwo toxic people in a world of thousands that aren't willing to admit it. He tried to die and failed. Meanwhile she lives, but feels as if she's dying. He's Curtis but is refered to as screw up most of the time. She's Eve but he calls her Mcfly. Spi...
