mystery boy

RYAN POV

Grass is cold when it's wet.

My clothes are probably really gross now, I think to myself. I can feel the dampness moving up my legs, across my hips and my back. The tips of the grass scratch against my arms, which I folded behind my head like a soft pillow made of human skin. I stare up at the night sky. I was hoping there would be more stars, but it's a perfectly clear night. No clouds, no stars, nothing but complete, blinding darkness, hovering above the city like a cloud of death.

I close my eyes, hoping that if I fall asleep I'd have some distraction from the cold, or the dark, but there's still nothing but darkness. It's almost the same as before.

I sit up, feeling bits and pieces of grass crawling down my back. I shiver. It's fucking freezing.        "I should have brought a jacket..." I whisper to myself. I look around to see if I can find somewhere to go, anywhere that I could be that was better than this. It's too dark. The city lights are all either too far or burned out.

"damn it..." I say, looking up at the sky as if it was to blame. Out of nowhere, I hear the soft sound of wet grass being stepped on. I turn around to a pair of torn jeans about two inches away from my face. I jump back. "Who-"

"Mind if I sit here?" The jeans bend at the knees and suddenly there's a face staring at me, and even with the black nothingness surrounding us, I can make out his features. His lips are pink and full, stretched out into a smile, and above it a perfectly shaped nose. Two deep, coffee-coloured eyes stare into mine, and before I can judge his hair I notice the biggest forehead I had ever seen. I look down at my shoes. "N-no," I mumble. I run my fingers through my own brown hair. The boy grins and plops down next to me, close enough for me to smell the scent what seemed like peach or lime, something fruity, coming off of his hair. He turns to me, stretching his legs out in front of him. "So what's your name?" He tilts his head sideways, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

"Uh...Call me Ryan." I say. My middle name. "Cool," he says. "I'm Joey." 

He stretches his hand out to me. I slowly inch mine towards it and shake it. His hand is warm like an oven, and his fingers feel like cotton. I want to cover myself in his skin, his warmth. He lets go of my hand, and suddenly I am reminded of the cold air surrounding me. I shiver and bring my knees up to my chest in a vain attempt to keep myself warm. Joey turns, looking at me, sizing me up.

"Are you cold?" He seems genuinely concerned, surprisingly. He starts taking off his jacket. Nobody's ever cared about me like this before. Should I trust him? My mind wanders, thinking about everything that could happen. He could chloroform me, kidnap me, kill me...I don't know him at all. But for some reason, despite the thoughts haunting me, I respond with-

"Kind of..." I was an idiot, deciding to wear ripped jeans and a thin t-shirt in the middle of October. Even my shoes, black tennis shoes, were torn at the edges. I look down and picked at the grass. Suddenly, I felt something warm put over my shoulders. I turn and look back. Joey had put his jacket on me. He smiles. "Is that better?" He was wearing only a tank top underneath.

"Y-you should probably take this back...you're wearing even less than me..." the words came out like a whisper. Joey shook his head and leaned on me. I jump a little bit. "I don't even know you." 

"That's what makes it better." He sighs. 

"Why?"

"You don't need to know right now."

"Wow. Mysterious." I smile.

He laughs. "I'm a man of mystery." 

"Mystery boy," I say, smiling. 

And together we stare at the night sky, without any knowledge about each other but our names. Falling in love, without even knowing it.