Chapter Sixteen

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Silently Falling; Chapter Sixteen

"Ready for the ultimate revealing?" He jokes, smirking down at me.

I chuckle at him and nod, "Just open the door so I can see how much of a pig you are."

He turns the knob and swings the white, splotchy door open.

West walks into his room and switches on the light, and out of everything, the first thing I notice is his color of choice that fills his walls; dark blue.

One would think dark walls would make the room itself dark, but with the white comforter that covers his bed, and the white pillows and white blinds to go along with it, his room is nowhere close to dark. The two colors contrast beautifully.

It's bigger than his brother's room, but is still only half the size of my room. His bed is pressed against the wall and takes up the far corner, and across from it rests his dresser. He doesn't have a desk in his room for homework, there's no room for one, but he does have a small bedside table. His room is barely able to occupy what he has in it now. The walls of his room are only partially covered up by a few posters. Two of The Eagles, one of Queen, and one of Green Day, the rest of his dark walls open for more.

What I find the most interesting is how clean his room is. There's not a single stray sock on the floor nor a wrinkle on his bed. Not one of his posters are hanging off the wall, and even his bedside table is neat.

I was more than expecting his room to look like a tornado had run through it.

"So, what do you think?" He asks, sitting down on his pristine bed.

I turn to him with a smile, it's honestly not what I expected, but in a good way. It's a nice room; his house is, in a way, nice.

Sure it's a little beat up and not in the best area, but it has a comfortable feel inside, it makes me feel welcome.

"I like it," I sign, leaning against the wall.

West lays down on his bed, one arm behind his head as he looks over at me and smirks. "You can sit, you know. Just take a seat on the bed, I promise it's clean."

"I don't know about that one." I sign, glancing at his sheets with mock worry.

He chuckles, "Suit yourself. But I'm damn comfortable." He shuts his eyes with a smug smile.

I roll my eyes and sit down on the corner of his bed. He cracks one eye open and smirks. "That's what I thought."

I get out my phone and pick on the voice memo icon.

"Onto the questions." I sign, switching to my notes to pull them up.

"You literally interviewed me the last time I saw you." He says, sitting up slightly.

I deflate slightly, he's right. There isn't much more I can ask him, I just don't want to start actually writing my story. Procrastinating is fun until the day the project is due.

He chuckles, "How about an actual lesson? I have some stuff I want to learn." He says, sitting up all the way to free up his hands.


"No." I sign, "That is definitely not how you sign it."

West huffs, "Then why don't you show me again?"

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