Being Shot

P h o t o #40 - Twinkling Lightly

P h o t o #40 - Twinkling Lightly

I stared down at my dark brown knock-off Ugg boots, ones that I had gotten at a thrift shop a year back, disturbingly conscious of the slight street salt stains they had accumulated over the past year adorning it.

My hand still enveloped in Elliot's, practically sweating in the mitten covering it, I was glad there was no skin on skin contact due to the clamminess of said hand. Even though I had boldly stated that keeping our hands intertwined was for the better of us both, what with me slipping on every single piece of ice coating the ground and Elliot's lack of gloves, I was feeling incredibly shy as we rounded the corner and finally made our way down the homey street my house sat on.

'This is too strange,' I thought, almost feeling a cold sweat coming on, 'I'm...holding hands with a guy, and I don't exactly...hate it.' I couldn't believe myself. Though my nerves were basically shot after this experience, I wasn't entirely sure I was ready for it to end as my little green house came into view.

'Just a few months ago Elliot didn't even know I existed,' I resumed, my eyes locking on our hands once again, 'Why did I even say we should hold hands. Though it has helped me the few times I've lost my footing since we left the school parking lot, my reasoning was practically illogical.' I paused, contemplating some more, 'Plus...he has two perfectly fine pants pockets. He even has his other hand in one!' My eyes popped as they peaked at his left hand currently resting in its corresponding pocket, then a small flutter in my chest took the reigns, 'Why...did he listen to my stupid request...'

Just as I was taking the time to reason my way through our predicament, Elliot stopped in his tracks. My delayed reaction caused me to yank on his arm, stopping a few steps in front of him.

I turned back, my mental dilemma forgotten, "What's wrong?"

The smallest part of my brain, the corner I had driven all of the negativity  within me into, whispered, 'He's finally realized that we're being seen in public like this, of course he'd be horrified.'

I surprised the urge by shaking my head, already shoving those thoughts back deeper, where they couldn't be heard.

I refused to degrade myself anymore. Though I had had this passing longing many times, it was during that moment of silence that it became a firm rule I would try my hardest to live by. There was no getting better if I didn't try loving myself.

Back to reality.

A long pause, and then he answered simply, almost causing me to throw myself onto the pavement for worrying at all, "Actually, there was a reason why I walked you home today."

I tilted my head to the side, wondering just what kind of reason it was to make Elliot unable to meet my eyes. A gust of wind blew against my back, pushing Elliot's hair out of his gaze. He continued to stare down at his shiny shoes.

"I, uh, wanted to tell you that...my dad and I started actually talking to each other again...instead of fighting." He spoke just above a whisper, his low voice fighting against the whipping of the winter air for my hearing capacity, "It's not much, but it's an effort."

A wave of utter relief spread through my body, even my toes were dancing within their fuzzy socks. I squeezed his hand, the one I still had quite the firm grip on, "That's wonderful!" I stepped foreword, wanting Elliot to understand how happy I was for him. I could almost feel my dull brown eyes sparkling.