Look at the stars, look how they shine for you and all the things that you do.
That sentence stopped her in her tracks.
Because why would he want to know her?
She was no one; nothing. There was nothing even remotely interesting about her.
"Why wou--what?" Her voice came out slightly shaky.
He smiled wide enough that she could see all of his teeth.
"What do you like to do?"
"I..." She was speechless. Here she was, moments before, going on a complete rampage because he wanted to tell the cops about her situation. And now he was asking her what she liked to do and she was actually thinking about telling him.
She couldn't figure him out. He was like sunshine poking through the pouring rain--beautifully unexpected. There was no way she would ever be able to predict the next words to come out of his mouth. And that completely intrigued her.
"I like to dance. Ballet."
"Really? You do all that twirly shit and wear a tutu?" His smile was contagious.
"No! I mean, yes. But there's more to it than that."
His blue eyes shined like the stars above as he spoke. "Show me."
She never danced in front of people. Dancing was her thing; her sole escape. But he smiled that beautiful smile again and her stomach burst into butterflies.
"I...I can't, I need music."
He smirked. "I can take care of that. You're not getting out of this that easy. C'mon."
She groaned. He wasn't going to give up.
Taking a deep breath, she got off of the wooden bench, took a few steps forward, and began to gracefully tip toe around the ancient playground. But she stopped as soon as he started supplying her with music.
He was singing.
His voice flooded the small park, encasing it in the soft notes falling from his mouth.
White lips, pale face
Breathing in snowflakes
Burnt lungs, sour taste
He hadn't even noticed her staring. He was just as caught up in his music as she was. His eyes were closed as he continued to slowly hum the song to himself.
She shook her head in an attempt to snap herself out of the trance she was in and continued dancing.
And they say she's in the class a team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since eighteen
What she didn't know, though, was that as soon as she began to dance again, he opened his eyes and watched her twirl her way around the rusted swingset.
He couldn't take his eyes off of her, and he didn't want to.
She was so elegant, so precise with her movements, so...her.
It was mesmerizing, watching her slowly make her way around the park to the sound of his voice.
And in a pipe she flies to the motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside for angels to fly
When she finally completed her circle of the playground, she sat down next to him on the bench.
"You're really good at singing."
"Thanks. You're really good at dancing."
"No, you're like, really good."
She wanted to tell him that the stars gleamed a little brighter when he sang, that he reminded her of the stars because he listened to her just like they do. But she didn't know how.
"The same with your dancing. You've got some sick feet."
Sick feet? What the hell, dude. Get it together. He mentally kicked himself for saying that to her, but not because he didn't mean it--he just meant it and more. If he knew how, he'd have told her how he wished time would freeze so he could watch her dance forever. But he didn't. So he was stuck sounding like an idiot.
But apparently, she liked idiots. Because she smiled after he said that. Pulling a piece of hair behind her ear, she asked "Are you in a band or somethig? You should be. I mean, you'd be really good at it."
"Some of my friends from school are in this band called 5 Seconds Of Summer and they keep asking me to join."
The smile slowly faded from his face as he paused.
"But my dad would never let me. It'd take too much time away from soccer."
He looked down at his hands and frowned slightly.
She didn't like it when he frowned. His eyebrows became furrowed and his entire body sank and his eyes became dull, almost lifeless. She realized then that she'd give anything to see him smile again.
With a yawn and a small smile, she looked him straight in the eye. She wasn't one to really cuss, but this was needed. "Fuck him."
***
fun fact: i wrote this chapter during a thunderstorm.
i'm sorry if this chapter sucks. it's hard for me to write out how i picture everything. please let me know if this sucks. i don't mind editing things if it helps you understand their thoughts better.
the song he sings is "the a team" by ed sheeran, in case you didn't already know. (i'm 83% sure there's a link to him--niall, not ed--singing it on the side.)
there's only two chapters left until this story ends.
