Jen
"How'd it go?" He asked.
Shawn was currently sprawled across my bed. He stuck out like a sore thumb, but at the same time looked like he belonged. It was kind of like one of those photos taken in London where it is black and white except the red telephone booth. He just fit perfectly.
"They were very inquisitive," I say, remembering the moment I had entered Dylan's living room. Jay poked and prodded at my ribs, testing my tolerance with the pain. They were getting progressively better, but not that well. Then it was ordinary, the same repeated questions asked again, this time from familiar voices that still sounded unfamiliar. I felt like I was disconnected somehow. Jay and Dylan sat on one sofa and I on the other, when we would all sit on the same couch with Dylan in the middle. Something had changed.
"I'm sure they were just worried." Shawn says, his arm tossed on top of his eyes to block out any sort of light.
I sigh, "Maybe."
Silence enveloped the room.
I made my way to the bay window, my current novel clutched to my chest. Of course, I had to read several chapters back due to my memory lapse, but I didn't mind.
It was dark out, but my lamp held a dim glow that was almost ominous. It was kind of creepy, really. Shawn was just laying there, the shadows on him sharp.
If I didn't hear him slightly humming, I would've assumed he was asleep.
I try to focus on my book, but my mind kept drifting back to my visit at Dylan's. I couldn't help it. The whole situation seemed odd. Stolen glances, restless movements, awkward pauses were all the clues I needed to know something was wrong or at least different. They were my friends, I expected them to tell me what was going on.
"Nothing," Jay had said. The sympathetic look he had given me told me otherwise though. There had been something different in the way he moved, and looked. He wore a maroon sweater and dark jeans whenever I was there, but he never wore sweaters before. Only hoodies or some type of athletic jacket. His movements seemed a bit more cautious than normal, like he was avoiding something. It bugged me that they were obviously trying to hide something. What could it be?
"Stop thinking." I hear Shawn say. I raise my right brow at him.
"You've been staring at that same page for a few minutes now."
"Oh." I respond. I am not sure what else to say. I didn't even know he was watching me, his eyes still hidden beneath his arm. Or at least that's what I could see.
Shawn
I'm not sure what the matter was, everything is going great in my opinion. Apparently that wasn't the case in Jen's mind. Her posture was so stiff, I could see it from where I lay on her bed.
I shift my position, now laying back against the wall on her bed. Her bed was unbelievably comfortable, and it smelled of her- of honey and brown sugar. It was intoxicating, but I love it all the same.
"You should've seen how awkward it was." Jen says. She ran a hand through her long hair before that same hand ran along her arm. It was a motion that spelled out stress and uncertainty. It was also a motion I was getting used to.
Now that I thought about it, if I payed close enough attention, I could read Jen. Her body, the way she moved, communicated everything I needed to know. The way she was curled on the bay window seat told me that she felt small. And the book cluthed to her chest? I guarantee that is her drug- it tranfers her from this world into that one, a special place where everything went right and you were left wanting more.
"I still think you're over thinking it." I reply. It's the only way I could have, or at least it's the only response that I could think of fast enough.
She hums in acknowledgement, her lips forming a straight line. She heaves a heavy sigh before rubbing her temples. Does she have a headache? Did she take her medicine?
"Come here, I got an idea." I call, a spontaneous idea coming to mind. She may think it's silly but its worth a try. I hope it impedes the travel or at least alleviates her migraine just a little.
Her bare feet pad over to the bed before she climbs on top to face me indian style. Her brows raise in silent question. I take this moment to study her features, aware that she knows I am doing so, but I can't help it. There is something about her that it different. Not the cliché different though, but the type of different that makes you want to appreciate it more. It's the kind that when you notice it, you're afraid it will disappear when you blink. It's the ineffable kind of different.
I blink and say, "Just a sec."
I pull out my phone to play soothing music on YouTube.
"Do you like classical?" I ask, meeting her eyes. I get a shrug in response and continue to type in a certain song I think she'll like. Moonlight sonata.
The music starts to play softly, the piano altering the atmosphere from a deafening silence to a gentle, mellifluous sway.
"We are going to meditate." I smile.
She tries to hold back a grin, but fails as I see her lips stretch to reveal her pearly whites. Sitting this close to her allows me to observe the fact that she has a small dimple on the smooth of her chin, only visible when she smiles. This simple finding makes me glad I thought of this activity.
"You're serious," she laughs, a small giggle escaping her parted lips. It's beautiful, reminding me of the tune that plays when my sister opens her jewelry box.
"Deadly serious," I say. "Now close your eyes."
She still wears her contagious smile, but does as I say. Her eyes drift close and her hands are displayed on her knees.
"Now take deep breaths and think about how the music would look in waves."
She nods, just a slight movement, but I catch it.
I watch as her breathing becomes controlled and calm. I swear she is about to fall asleep when the song finally ends, fading away into the oblivion.
Again I see the light of her eyes and am graced with a lazy smile. She moves toward me. I think she is going to join me in leaning against the wall, but instead she lays on my lap, her back to me. Her arms serve her as a makeshift pillow and her hair falls in heaps around her, framing her figure.
I twirl several locks of her hair around my index finger and even try braiding it when she speaks.
"You'll have to text me the name of that song," She tells me so softly I almost don't hear her.
"Okay." Is all I say.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
(A/N): Ahhhh! I sincerely apologize for another long disappearance. Several factors go into the amount of time it took me to upload this chapter, the main one being procrastination haha, but alas! It is here (not to mention kinda crappy but oh well)!!
Either way, holy guacamole! Two thousand reads?!?! Are you serious?! Or am I just seeing things? I must be seeing things. Thank you for all the reads, they are greatly appreciated and very much loved! <3
I noticed I need to work on my vocabulary since I know I can do so much better with certain phrases or words or even how I describe things. I'll work on that lol. I won't be giving a dedication to anyone this chapter mainly because I just need to get back into the hang of things. I didn't even know I was going to write this chapter tonight soooo yeah... I should really look into making a schedule for myself 😅
I hope you all enjoy this chapter, til next time (hopefully soon if I get a chance)! xx.