Take Me To Church

Chapter Three

Louis has returned home from his afternoon run every day at five-thirty since two years ago. Today, I'm studying at my desk, which is next to my window. The cool autumn air from the open window brushing against my cheeks, making them a patchy red and white. 

A door slams in the distance and I furrow my eyebrows, turning towards the sharp sound. I stand from the chair and peer past the tree into Louis' bedroom window, which is starting to be more easily seen, as the red leaves are slowly falling into mosaics on the grass below. The sight before me of tanned back muscles makes me squeak and drop down to hide under my window. 

Slowly, I grip the window frame and pull myself upwards, green eyes cautiously eyeing the house across from mine. Louis turns sideways, sweaty hair un-styled and glistening, sweaty chest rippling with muscles. A noise escapes my mouth and I slap my hand over it. Louis smirks to himself and slips his fingers under the straps of his running shorts. A guilty feeling enters my stomach and I sink back down under the window.

I chew on my lip and close my eyes, forcing the images of what I'd just seen to disappear. Until something soft falls into my lap. A paper airplane. I dust pink and unfold it gently. 

Dear H,

I like to think you've listened through the three albums I gave you? Taylor really is a genius. I watched a movie last night about Ryan Gosling and a woman falling in love after years of not being allowed to be together. They kissed in the rain and someday I hope something of the sort will happen to people like you, kind people. You deserve a tragical romance. I also wanted to thank you for not telling anyone about how I use the old treehouse as a getaway.

I feel a soft smile tugging at my lips are his scratchy writing, ink bleeding through the lined paper. My breath hitches at the last lines.

Meet me tonight?

I'll be waiting below the trees behind our houses down by the river in the afterglow.

Love, L.

P.S, you're very bad at hiding, I hope you enjoyed the view ;)

I bite my lip to hold back a groan as the letter falls by my sock covered feet.

Oh my goodness, the view. At this point I'm not even worried that he caught me, I'm worried about the bulge in my pants. I roll my eyes in frustration and figure there's nothing wrong with having a cold shower before dinner, right?

It also has absolutely, definitely, 100% nothing to do with a certain boy next door. Or his leather jackets, or his laugh, or his eyes, or his voice, or his eyelashes, or my everlasting, irritating need to comb my finger through his soft as heck hair.

Nope. Totally, and absolutely nothing to do with him.

Right?

**

The river down the back behind our houses was long ago abandoned by children who were expected to grow up by the time I turned twelve. Now it's silently awaiting the children of the kids that live in our neighborhood. Even if that's in ten years.

The scent of cigarette smoke, fresh water, daisies, and childhood innocence still lingers amongst the fallen down stick made huts and memories. Pine needles and twigs crackle under foot as I jog down the river bank, blue and purple pink skies glowing as the last bit of sun slips behind the hills in the distance.

Goosebumps trail along my spine as daisies swings un the slight breeze and birds fly to there homes, black against the star splashed dusk. Tadpoles wiggle in the edges of moss covered riversides and the clear water shows two green eyes, staring back at me.