"And then what?" I laughed before taking another sip of water and looking at him.
"And then we just pray and go home." Finn stated before looking at me oddly and laughing.
We were currently seated in Finn's Jeep as he attempted to convince me to attend Church with him and his mother that following Sunday.
"Why are you laughing?" I couldn't help but laugh as well.
"I've just never met someone who's never been to church before...it's interesting." Finn smiled a little, his eyes shining.
July was almost done and as I looked at Finn I suddenly found myself wondering what would happen when his friends came back. When he went back to being normal and I remained the same. When I realized this I quickly closed my eyes and felt the sun on my face and tried to remember the feeling of my body on his jeep and the way I could feel him near em even when I couldn't see.
"Edith?" Finn laughed, my naming coming off like a questions.
I smiled just a bit, not because I found my closing my eyes funny but because I found the sound of Finn's voice to be lovely.
"Mm..yes." I don't quite remember what it was about my voice that was different that day, but I do remember that the sound of it caused Finn to place his hand upon mine forcing me to loose my new found blindness. I tried my very hardest not to stare at him...too keep my eyes closed and try to remember. But there was something so very convincing about his fingers that caused me to stare.
"What's wrong." I don't say anything for a moment as I search for a way to explain to him what I am doing without feeling clingy....without feeling dumb.
"I'm saving memories." Finn's eyes, despite the tired inside them, seemed to shine slightly as if he wasn't so tired...as if he were only joking about not sleeping.
"And how does one do that?" His eyes held mine and I tried to regain my composure again.
"You just...close your eyes I guess." Finn looked at me sadly before looking past me and out the window.
"Why are you saving memories?" I shut my eyes again and leaned my head against the headboard of the car seat.
"I just don't want to forget." I murmured quietly. "That's all."
YOU ARE READING
Zero O'Clock
Teen Fiction"We called it zero o’clock. Because to us time wasn’t about the number, it was about the feeling. And zero o’clock was the feeling of not being able to sleep but at the same time not caring. It brought this weird ataraxia and for some reason we like...
