Problem with Wanting You

chapter three

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"Problem with small towns."

_____

"Are those sirens for you?"

I stare outwards at the street in shock, the only sign of color in the predominantly dark sky being the reflections of red and blue lights bouncing off my neighbours windows.

Will looks at me with an agitated look as he heaves in annoyance, his cheeks flushed pink from the cold air as he continues to balance himself on a branch. "Can we maybe talk about this after I'm out of this tree?"

"Are you crazy?!" I whisper to him, my tone harsh. "If my mom found you in here, she'd kill me."

"Please." He pleads with me, "I really can't get caught.."

Sighing, I take a step back giving him a clear view of my bedroom. He swings his leg through the window before falling into a heap on my floor with a loud thud. I watch as he collects himself from the fall, quickly flicking my lamp switch off, my room falling into darkness.

I scowl at him. "Hey! Turn that—"

I feel him appear in front of me, pressing his hand to my mouth the rest of my sentence muffled against his hand. We stand there silently in close proximity, the coldness of his body conflicting with the heat of mine.

Once the sound of sirens drown out, he finally steps back from me, letting out a sigh of relief as he turns the lamp back on and closes the window he had just brazenly entered from. I instinctively take him in. He was dressed head to toe in black. A black hood layering over the beanie he already had on his head. Whatever he was doing, it definitely wasn't legal and he definitely didn't wanna be caught.

The blue eyed boy inspects me and I stop myself from
squirming under his gaze, suddenly feeling self conscious. I was at my most natural self; makeup free with the freckles I had gained throughout summer still having not faded yet, hair tied in a messy bun, overly worn-out avocado pyjamas that I probably should've gotten ridden of.

"Cute pjs." He scoffs, a mocking tone in his voice as he hones in on my nighttime attire.

I roll my eyes at him, any sign of discomfort I had vanishing, annoyance taking it's place. "It's not really a good look insulting the girl who just saved your ass."

"Sorry." He chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He eventually looks up, his eyes locking with mine as silence falls over us once again. You couldn't mistake the mischievous glint in his eyes as they held captive on me. His lips etch up into somewhat of a smile, the indent of his dimples faintly on show. He finally breaks eye contact, clearing his throat and slowly reaching his arm up, outstretching his hand towards me. "I'm Will Ashford."

I fold my arms, looking between him and his awaiting hand, eyeing it in perplexity. "I know who you are Will." I tell him.

When he realises I wasn't going to accept his handshake, he swiftly places his hand in his cargo pants pocket and nods. "Well, that's good I guess."

If my rejection of a handshake affected him somehow, he didn't show it. Now that I come to think of it, he didn't show much of anything. His demeanour was calm, as if he hadn't just been running from the cops. He was like that in school too, he was definitely far from the shy type but didn't engage in mindless chatter. He always spoke with a purpose.