Dark Blue | c h

3 |

She sat out on her balcony 20 minutes before their now usual time. 2 days. It took 2 days for one guy to wiggle into her life. Nothing about this situation was right though it felt that way.

She tried to look out for him in the day time but he didn't go out. She had finally given up and ran to the store to grab a new pack of cigarettes. When she returned, she saw no one. Little did she know, he was trying to see the same exact thing.

He had watched for her for hours. He saw the door open but his attention was diverted to one of his stupid bandmates and he turned back to only see the back of her head, her long dark hair held in a loose ponytail, a red flannel lazily over her petite frame, and a pair of black leggings clung to her just like the Converse tied to her feet.

There was only one word to describe their talks: insatiable. Neither of them could ever get enough.

After she had bailed on him the night before, she tossed and turned in bed for hours, guilt running through her veins.

He laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling, asking himself what went wrong over and over again until his eyes finally closed a long while later.

She breathed in the cool summer air, shutting her eyes and resting her head on the glass door behind her. Her hands felt at her sides until she could grab her pack of cigarettes and her little orange lighter. She grabbed one from the carton and brought it to her lips, opening her eyes momentarily so she could light it.

"Canadian," a voice whispered questionably from across the dewy lawn.

She took a puff and exhaled the smoke.

"Yes Kiwi," she grumbled back.

"You're out early," he remarked.

She tilted her head forward.

"I've just been thinking," she spoke, watching her smoke disappear into the dark air.

"About," he dragged out.

She sighed heavily.

"I was such an asshole last night. I shouldn't have shut you out. I'm-"

He held his hand out over the balcony.

"Don't apologize. It wasn't a big deal. I just thought I did something wrong."

Her heart began to race a little. Worry. She had given him a reason to worry over something as stupid as her.

"I'm-"

"I don't want to hear it Canadian. It's fine. We're out here together right now, aren't we?"

"Yes," she mumbled.

She couldn't help but smile, her dry lips cracking.

"So how are you doing," he asked.

Her smile turned to a large frown.

"Honestly, I'm not alright."

"And why is that?"

She rolled her eyes and tried to smile.

"God Kiwi, you hammer me with questions every time I'm out here."

He grinned even though he was upset that she wasn't alright.

"I care about you, even though I don't really know you."

Her heart suddenly fluttered. He cared. Nobody seemed to care about her anymore. They had all given up.

She was concerned that he'd stop caring if she let him in, but she was willing to take a chance on him. For some odd reason she knew he would never.

"You do know a few things about me Kiwi."

"You smoke," he stated.

"I'm Canadian."

"Duh."

She grinned from ear to ear.

"I don't know a lot though," he spoke dryly.

"Well then fruit, lets play fucking 20 Questions."

His smile grew back.

"Shoot, Canadian."

"Favorite color," she asked immediately.

"Blue. You?"

"Orange. Favorite movie?"

"Anchorman. You?"

She shook her head at his response.

"Anchorman? Fucking Anchorman?"

He held his arms up in defense though she could barely see.

"What do you have against Anchorman?"

She shrugged her shoulders, putting out her cigarette.

"Nothing, but I have something against you now."

She got up. He saw her shadow and became confused. Her hand moved toward the handle.

"Where are you going?"

She smirked incoherently.

"Enough 20 Q for tonight. We can finish it tomorrow."

He groaned loudly.

"Is it because of Anchorman?"

She slid her door open and stepped into the dark room.

"It might be because of Anchorman."

He pouted like a little child.

"I've never disliked a movie more in my life."

"Night Kiwi."

He stood on his balcony, arms around his chest.

"See you tomorrow Canadian."

She closed the door behind her, then remembered something she had forgotten. She opened it back up again.

"By the way, mine is a tie between The Silence of the Lambs and Psycho."

Her choice in movies almost shocked him, but then again, all she wanted to do was die so it was no surprise by the thrillers.

"Please tell me you're not a serial killer Canadian."

She winked even though she knew he couldn't see.

"I just might be Kiwi, and you're my next victim," she whispered, shutting the door again behind her.