𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓 ✞𝑡𝑜𝑚 𝑘𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑧✞

part two

Creasing the edges of the worn paper, Robyn got to work writing out the essay, eyes flicking from line to like as the ink rolled out of her pen into words and then sentences and then paragraphs. It was her second of the night and her eyes were growing heavier in the dim night. Words flowing from her mind onto the paper, her thoughts escaped from her control switching over to how the house grew silent and lifeless. All that could be heard was the soft scratching sound as the inked pages filled with words.

By this point in the early night, the sun had just set causing her room to be filled with shadows and silhouettes that reflected the various shapes from outside her window. Noticing this, she cracked her neck and knuckles before switching on the small sting of fairy lights that wound around her bedposts and making her way over to the window seat with the notepad and pen.

Typically at this time, she would smoke outside the window for a minute or two and watch as all of the houses surrounding hers flick out their yellow lights and settle for sleep. Once they were all out, this was the time she would toss the end of her cigarette into the small collection on the garage roof and climb into bed, leaving the window slightly ajar for the soft sound of birds to remind her she wasn't the only one awake.

But tonight, she had way too much to do. Grabbing her black coffee from her bedside table and throwing her braids into a bun, she continued writing, hoping the caffeine would stimulate her motivation and keep her writing.

Robyn had always been smart. But not in a cocky or self-overestimating way, simply she knew she did well in school and that was enough to keep her stable and confident. Plus, it definitely had its benefits; she had been writing papers for guys in her class for the past year or two always leaving them in the mail box for them to collect and hand in as their own. They would usually pay her back at the parties she hosted, in school or sometimes in weed, leaving hand- rolled joints in her mail box in replacement of the papers. It was a simple exchange: grades for cash.

Unlike most of the kids at her school, she was entirely financially independent and relying on her scholarship and good grades to push her through the school years. At the small gas station in town, she worked most Mondays to Wednesdays which was moderate pay but still meant she had to write the papers to make up the extra cash. As for spending money, she barely had much to spare with most of it being used for her groceries, gas and to visit her mom.

So at 12:45 at night, she remained the only one awake in the small circle of houses, writing away at her window as even the birds settled down into silence. All but one window.

Across the roof of the garage, Tom finished dismantling a couple of boxes and threw the black sheets down into the bed. His room was much smaller than his old one with a simple wardrobe, desk and bed, all of which was barely recognisable under all of his boxes. Kicking off his white sneakers, he fell exhausted into bed, lying there for a few moments as his muscles stretched out and relaxed from the day of moving. Unlike Leipzig, this place was hotter and more humid, making his dreads plaster themselves to his neck and his skin grow flushed with heat.

Reaching deep into his jean pockets, he pulled out a cheap pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter, sitting up from his position on the bed and leaning into the window. When they had first gotten here, Tom insisted on getting this room as it had a huge window besides the bed for him to smoke. Bill didn't argue as it meant he got a larger closet.

For some reason, the window was stiff and old, groaning and creaking as the hinges swung open out into the night. Feeling the breeze, he slumped down against the frame allowing the coldness to wash over him before pulling his brown jersey over his head and tossing it on the floor. Within moments, the cigarette was lit and between his lips as he rolled it back and forth between them out of boredom.

Bored and exhausted, his eyes moved over to the window opposite his, the two being almost connected by the neighbouring garage roof. The girl looked about his age with olive skin and sleek black braids that were wound on the top of her head. The first thing he noticed were her cheek bones and jawline as they protruded proudly from her face shape making her look both fierce and almost like a cat. Following her long legs, he scanned over her almost bare body, noticing how smooth and toned her figure was. Girls didn't look like that back home.

Gazing for several more more moments, he watched as she twisted her neck upward, raising her jaw slightly and adjusting her neck position. Her eyes tightened as if she was stretching before she returned to fix her concentration on the notepad she was carefully writing on. He smiled to himself finding his view to be more appealing than his intended plans to just smoke and listen to music, so he remained this way just simply watching in between long drags of his cigarette.

Stopping briefly in between a sentence, Robyn eyes flicked up from the paper smelling a faint scent of cigarette smoke, she looked around now noticing that the window opposite hers was now inhabited by a boy, his arms resting comfortably over the edge with the orange glow of a cigarette in one hand. He must have already been watching her because when she caught his eyes he simply didn't react and remained looking at her as he took a drag and blew out a white cloud of smoke.

What people often told Robyn was that she had a very emotionless face and wasn't one to smile, react or engage in conversation with her expression but instead her words just proceeded without her expression changing. Some interpreted it as intimidating while others thought she wasn't listening. But she was just simply not caring to make the effort of engaging back.

However, this boy across the window was looking back at her and not afraid to make the effort of speaking or even indicating an interaction. They just looked at each other.

At first, she thought it was strange, a silent exchange of looks without reason or introduction. But after several moments of examining the features of the stranger, she relaxed into it, noticing how he too felt comfortable enough to remain there.

He was the boy with the dreads she had noticed before, yet this time, he looked much more attractive under the darkness. His hair was misshapen and messy, falling from his left side and spreading out onto his bare shoulders. His face was pointed and angular with just his dark brows and blushed lips exposed in the shadows. In between drags of his cigarette, she noticed he often ran his tongue over his bottom lip and it catching on a small silver piercing that slightly reflected the moons light.

Unsure as to what to do next, Robyn grew unbothered by his presence and continued writing, making sure to not furrow her brows or bite her cheek as she wrote.

The girl resumed with her writing, pulling her knees up to her chest and moving the white paper into the light. Still watching, Tom chuckled before stubbing then end of his cigarette out on the window ledge and discarding it onto the roof with a small flick. At this moment, the girl moved only her eyes, following it as it rolled to the rooftop, before raising her glance upwards towards Tom. Smiling slightly, he shifted his piercing in his mouth and pushing the window further open.

Pulling his grey sweats upwards to his hips, he pushed up onto the window ledge and carefully stepped out, feeling the cool shingles of the roof beneath his feet. Outside his hot room, the air was cooling on his bare torso and submerged around him further encouraging him to do what he was about to do. Confused, the girl watched as he moved casting her eyes up and down his tall frame.

"What you writing?" he asked smugly approaching her window and toying with the lighter in his hands.