What It's Like Loving an Idiot

Nine || Blue, Worried, Stress, Despair

His eyes. Blue and worried.

His eyes show stress and despair.

Almost conflicted with a decision.

He doesn't stop looking at me. "No," he says in subtle tone. "I can't. I have to go. Call me back later." He hangs up the phone and slides it into his pocket.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

He nods. "Perfect."

He holds out his hand for me to take, which I do without much hesitation.

Perfect. Of course, you can only expect such a bland response. What a way to let a person know how things are actually. Certainly, the word 'perfect' does not mean what it is meant to, but perhaps the opposite? To know where the person is coming from is certain. To have perfection does not channel the simplicity within the words. No, it is not simple. It is much more complicated. Perfection is the equivalent of being okay. It is like the sun has been burned down.

As we walk into these horrific halls, I feel James' grip on my hand tighten. I look a him, but his gaze is forward.

Although, as soon as we are in the big classroom, his mood rises slightly as his gaze meets our group of friends. He leads me up to the chairs and he sits down beside Grant.

I look at Grant's face. Not a smile is near. There's a frown on his lovely face. A smile belongs on face like that. It's not that I am attracted to him to the full extent, it's the principle. There are certain faces that you see and you know that they are ones that don't ever look right with a frown. Certain faces fit specific expressions and feelings.

A pretty face with a pretty feeling.

I look at James and I am pretty sure that he is just as worried about Grant as I am. "How are you?" I ask him.

He shrugs. "I'm okay." He gives me a small smile.

'Okay', also known as 'perfect'.

I lean back into my chair as the professor enters the room.

Well, here we go.

*

"Babe, are you listening to me?" James' voice breaks me from my thoughts.

I look at him. "Sorry, my mind is just busy."

He nods. "I know. Anyways, I was wondering what we are going to do this weekend because my mom wanted us to come out to the cabin at the lake." He looks straight ahead as he drives and talks to me.

I nod. "Yeah, that would be fine with me, but are you sure you're able to go?" I ask him.

He glances at me for a quick second, then back to the road. I look at his face and he looks quite confused. "Why wouldn't I?"

I chuckle. "That son of a bítch, Autumn. Y'know, she always seems to be on your back."

"I know, I know. I'm going to figure it out this week. Although, I do promise that it will not interfere with this weekend. I refuse to let it," he assures me.

I smile. "Good, now we'll just get something to eat here and then back to the college because I have a lecture."

He nods. "Alright."

He turns into the coffee shop parking lot and turns off the car. I go to open the door, but he grabs my hand.

"What?" I ask as I look at him.

He leans out of his seat and kisses my lips, gently putting his hand on the back of my head, holding me in place.

He pulls away and looks me straight in the eyes. "Fuçk, I love kissing you." He grins.