Here's a concept.
*She checks her phone. The screen displays an unopened message delivered an hour ago. She throws her phone onto the the guest bed of his house. She walks into the room from the hallway of bedroom doors. She angrily passes him in the kitchen.*
Maxwell: Georgia.
*she doesn't turn around, but hears his footsteps approaching her.*
Maxwell: What's going on Gia? You've been locked up in that room ever since you got here.
*Still no answer so he inches closer. He reaches his hand out to touch her shoulder, but lets his hand fall before touching her with a sigh*
Maxwell: I've just been worried about you.
*This time his hand makes contact with her shoulder. She quickly swats it away and turns to him. She looks up at him. He's a tall, gentle college dropout with messy brown hair and painstakingly average brown eyes. She is an all around small individual with equally as messy brown hair from sleeping in too late and not sleeping enough at night. She puts her hand on his shoulders and brings him to his knees so she can look him in those mind bogglingly plain brown eyes.*
Maxwell: Geor-
*She cuts him off with a crash of chapped lip on rough stubble. Like sand against rocks washed up by a stormy shore. His mouth tasted like menthols and mint gum. His grasp on her waist tightened. She wraps her dainty arm around his neck. They kiss until the feeling in their lips was tingly. They slowly pulled apart eyes locked in place. Emotionless yet so saturated with every singe emotion imaginable. Confusion, anger, helplessness, the desire to help. They just stare for a long, long while. Him not wanting to ask. Her not wanting to tell. Just staring. A type of telepathic communication. A look in her eyes the made him understand that she didn't want to talk about it she just wanted him there.*
Georgia: Thank you.
