Spring Break: Jake (On Hold)

Chapter Five

~Day Four~

I was half-awake when Vanessa woke up, so we she turned to her back to me, the first reaction was to pull her closer. By that time, I was fully awake.

It was still raining, making the room very dark. Maybe a day inside would be perfect to get to know Vanessa better.

I decided it was time to let her know I was awake so I moved around and buried my nose into her neck, more of just to smell the raspberry smell of her shampoo. She giggled.

"Thanks for comforting me last night." She said as she pulled away. I frowned inwardly, but smiled when she looked at me.

"Yeah." I said. "No problem."

"It's still raining. My 'fun things to do indoors' involves my writing...so..."

"It's fine." I smiled, getting up. "I'll just play solitaire and watch you." She blushed.

"Something wrong with that?"

"N-no!" She blushed again. It was cute when she blushed. "No one's ever watched me write before...it kind of makes me nervous."

I grinned and pulled her out of bed into the living room. I sat her down at the dining table and searched the kitchen drawers for a candle. When I found one, I lit it and set it in the center of the dining table, letting the light spread across the table.

I gave Vanessa her messenger bag and she sighed. She knew she was defeated.  I grabbed the deck of cards and sat down across from her as she got everything ready.

She picked up a piece of paper with her handwriting on it. Her nose scrunched up and she pouted in confusion. I chuckled and started to deal out my hand of solitaire.

During the hour that she wrote, I noticed small quirks. She never pushed back her hair, even though she probably found it annoying and in her way. The way her hair hung over her face as she concentrated deeply made her even more beautiful, if that was even possible.

When she stopped writing to think, or look at something she just wrote, just before she started writing again, she'd twirl her pencil, making the lead marks stay dark the entire time she wrote.

When she stopped to erase something with her separate eraser, she never let go of the position of her blue pencil. She'd use her left hand to erase, probably to keep her right hand from cramping too badly.

When her hand did cramp up, she'd switch the way she held her pencil, but soon was back to the way she was writing before.

The more she wrote, the more her pencil would rub against her skin, making it shiny. I wondered if it hurt as it kept rubbing. Although, she probably never noticed.

The look of concentration on her face made me smile.

The position of her lips was neither a smile, nor a frown. It was just line. Every now and then it'd change position when she thought of something great, or when she got stuck.

"Do you want something to eat?" I asked her after the hour had gone by. I don't know if she was paying attention or not, but she nodded. So instead of asking again, I made her food anyway.

I made her one of my grilled cheeses, where I toasted the bread on both sides instead of just one.

When I finished making it, I pulled the paper out from under her pencil and set the grilled cheese in it's place.

"Hey!" She exclaimed.

"Eat." I commanded, smiling. She pouted.

"If I eat, do I get my paper back?"