Supernova | ✓

chapter eight

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chapter eight

Night welcomed me again like an old friend and I embraced it fully. And entering the field with my blanket I noticed that Blue was waiting on me. I was shocked at first, seeing that he was sitting facing my direction and when I sat my blanket down he peered at me. The stars were brighter tonight, the air didn't look so dark and as I sat down I studied him for a moment.

His eyes were glistening with interest and I knew that we were both studying each other, taking in the masterpiece of each other. I didn't consider myself a masterpiece, for I knew that I was flawed. I knew that there were splotches that shouldn't be there and I felt as though I was a painting the artist had a blindfold on them when they picked up their paint brush. But maybe I wasn't supposed to look pretty, I was supposed to look real, make emotions rise within someone, because I was like art. And even though I knew I wasn't pretty I knew that one person would look at me with a different angle and be spell bound by me.

I noticed how Blue had his head titled to the side, and his eyes scanned over me. They scanned over the big shirt that I was wearing along with the bright neon pink leggings I wore. For once I was bare foot and the grass was stuck to my feet. I still wore my glasses, having known that I was going to give up contacts. I didn't wear them except maybe one week a month and even then I felt as though I relied too much on the glasses that I wore.

Blue and I sat there, for who knows how long, looking at each other. I knew that we were looking at each other, as though we were making sure that we would trust each other when it came to sitting and star gazing. I knew that I was blushing, when his eyes softened and he opened his mouth as though he was going to say something before it clamped shut. I wondered what his voice would sound like, I wondered if it was silky smooth or rough and husky. I wondered if it held pain, or tiredness, and I wondered if he even spoke at all.

I turned my head away from the boy in front of me and looked up at the sky instead. I felt as though my heart was racing a million miles in my chest and that it would stop before long and I'd be caught between life and death all because this boy didn't know what he was doing to me. He didn't know how much he made me feel when he looked at me. I felt as though I was paint and he was the paintbrush and that whatever he did with me it would turn out the way it was supposed to be and I knew that anyone else would find that terrifying but I found that even more of an opportunity to try and see what he imagined me being.