One Shots

one

          Her eyes were fixed upon the book sitting in her lap and her toes played in the little fountain-pool kind of thing that her feet were perched in, while her fingers fiddled with a few loose strands of hair, that had managed to escape from her unruly bun. The baggy green sweatshirt that she'd pulled over herself sagged to the left, exposing her right shoulder, and the grey, faded sweatpants that she'd pulled on, rolled up so that they huddled right above her knees. It was a wonder really, how she still managed to look absolutely beautiful. 

        She was probably able to sense my gaze at her, as her head jerked up right about then; a smile etching itself onto her face, as she perceived my pyjama clad self. 

        She patted the platform beside her, signalling for me to take a seat next to her, before upturning her book and placing it by her left. Taking off my slippers, I dipped my feet into the same pool hers were perched in, but got them out almost immediately. 

        "It's freezing!" I exclaimed, as her head fell back in a laugh that had attempted to mock my sudden outburst. 

        "Keep your feet in the water, it'll feel fine after a bit," she said with a promising smile, giggling at the reluctant look on my face, as I set my feet back into the water, ignoring the way it's chilly temperature poked my skin. 

        She laughed at me some more, before commenting on the dinosaur print that dotted my pyjamas, and how my bed hair looked a lot like the head of a triceratops. To be honest, I had expected a comfortable silence to surround us after that, but I was wrong. 

        We talked. We talked about high school, and books, and movies, and David Bowie's last album, and sliding in socks upon wooden floors, and the marshmallows in lucky charms, and the smell of rain, and lemon flavoured detergents, and her eyes squeezed shut as a laugh escaped her lips, and as the bright and electrifying sound hit me, I think I forgot how to breathe. 

        "What's wrong?" she asked after a moment, her eyes laced with concern, as she examined my suddenly silent face. 

        And right then, the fact that my father beat me black and blue every time he came home drunk didn't matter. The fact that I worked two part time jobs after school to help my mother pay the bills didn't matter. The fact that I didn't have enough money saved up to pay for my college tuition didn't matter. 

          All that seemed to matter was the girl sitting beside me.

   "Nothing. Nothing at all." I replied to her question, while looking down at our feet as they played in the water. She smiled and nodded an 'okay' before going back to playing with her hair. 

   "How's the water feeling now?" she asked after a few minutes of silence, her eyes following mine to look at the ripples she was making in the water with her toes. 

   "Fine. Quite nice, actually," I answered honestly, before looking up at her face, to see the litter of freckles around her nose and cheeks, and the loose strands of hair that were dancing around her face. 

   "I told you, didn't I? Give it some time, and it will all get better." she said with a small, but genuine smile. I had a feeling that she wasn't just talking about the water, and as my eyes found hers, and her hand found mine, our fingers entwined, and I knew, that she wasn't lying.