I'm into Insomniacs (discontinued)

Dipper's Fault

I was stunned. What a serious idiot. My window was at least twenty-one feet off the ground. Breaking a rib would have been the best senerio, had she fallen off of the window ledge. What a serious dope sometimes. I looked down at her hands, clasped tightly around her offering, a slight shake escaping as her hand muscles continued to tighten. Her eyes, her brow, everything about her face shouted, at one level or another, in excitement and anticipation. I suddenly felt slightly bad for her. The pencil between her clasped hands, a rose-eraser placed atop it, was strange. It was almost laughable how ridiculous her gesture was, considering how querky she was to begin with. However, for some unknown reason, this act of kindness was oddly touching. It almost hurt a little bit, seeing how much she strained herself. Everything in her body, every fiber in her bone and every single folical on her skin seemed to vibrate with joy, simply offering me this gift.

"...What the fuck Paz?!" I whispered with the most anger I could muster without catching any attention from downstairs. I could see it in her eyes. The spark had dulled a bit, but I could sense a shine of determination behind her buzzing blues. She wasn't getting upset. She was getting me a present. Her grin weakened for a moment, only to return to it's original position. I could see her hands, however, loosening from around the pencil which she gripped with her life. "I wanted to thank you... for everything. You're a good friend and I-" What the hell is up with her? Sometimes, I swear to God. "You could have died from that bullshit you just pullled! Do you get how easy it is to get hurt from hights like that?!" I was ready to strangle her. I mean, not like strangle-strangle. More like tightly squeeze her between my arms.... Yeah, I was a little scared she was gonna get hurt.

"Jesus Paz! Stop and think for a second next time!" I turned from her, refusing the eraser. I wasn't going to enternain her horrible excuse for a "good" idea. I sat on my bed, opposite to her, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. I questioned whether she would attempt leaving through the window (Which is a terrible idea) or exitting through my bedroom door (Which is a mortifyingly awful idea). Instead, I felt a shift in weight on the bed. I refused to look up, but I knew she was sitting next to me, and it was disturbingly comforting. She didn't put a hand on my shoulder or ask me any questions right away. And, for just a moment, I couldn't even read her mind. In that split second of confusion, I realized what she was trying to do: She was assessing the situation. She hadn't said a word because she was trying to figure me out.

And then, she spoke. "Why are you so protective of me?" I processed the question, refusing to look up and meet her eyes, because I didn't know either. Or maybe I did know... No. I really didn't. "I-... I don't know, bro." I let out jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. Just a little bit. She was silent for a moment and, once more, I couldn't pick up a bit of information from her brain waves. Maybe she wasn't thinking. Maybe that was her method. If it was, it was actually kind of a genius method. She'd been functioning this long without thinking. I could feel her eyes trailing over me, and it made me feel sick to my stomach, having so much attention directly trained on me. I mean, I had performed for the entire town, but had never had such a personal relationship with someone other than my sister before. This was different. The attention was personal. 

Another minute passed, and I took the chance of a life time: I looked at her. The second I did, I couldn't look away. Her eyes were large and round and soulful and hippnotizing. And she had tears in them. They looked so misplaced in her eyes. Her eyes were like God's, but her tears were human. Why? Why was she about to cry? Was it because I refused her pencil? (A/N: That's what she said.) "Why are you crying?" I can't believe I actually asked that. But, the look in her eyes was so painful. It tore my heart apart in places I hadn't even known existed. A single tear fell from her right eye, and it took every ounce of will power in my body not to wipe it away from her. I couldn't do this. I had made a mistake allowing her company to linger with me, and now she was in pain. I was in pain. It brought tears to my eyes, seeing her so hurt. And in that moment, even though I hated myself for it, I cared so intimitely for her that it frightened me.