Seasons

Winter

🌨🌨🌨🌨

You're in your room.

You and your best friend are sitting in the middle of your rug, their head in your lap as you brush your fingers through their hair.

You two are talking about the weather and how convenient it had been that it started to snow right before your P.E class had to run the mile.

There are warm blankets surrounding both of you, keeping you two as warm as possible.

He suddenly moves his head off of you and stands up, going over to your window and watching the snow fall.

He sits on the window sill, sighing deeply.

You ask him what's wrong as you stand up and walk over to him, his sad eyes looking into yours.

He shakes his head and gives you a sly smile, telling you he's just tired.

You put your hand on his cold cheek and keep your eyes on him, letting him know that he can tell you anything.

He sighs once more before explaining to you how his parents had been fighting more and more recently, sleeping in different rooms, barely looking at eachother, only speaking to argue about small, insignificant things.

He tells you how scared he is and then quietly chuckles as he moves your hand off of his cheek.

"It's stupid", he says to you, "I'm seventeen years old, why should I be scared about my parents getting a divorce." 

You look into those sad, sad eyes of his and feel your heart hurt for him.

You look outside, watching the small snowflakes fall so gently onto the ground as the moon began shining on everything in sight.

You didn't really know what to say to him, all you could think about doing was pulling him into a tight hug and telling him everything was going to be okay.

So that's exactly what you did.

You grab him and put your arms around his neck, holding him tight to your body.

At first, he just sits there, letting you hold him, until finally you feel his arms around you, tightly wrapped around your warm body.

You feel him start to quietly sob into your shoulder so you rub his back and whisper in his ear that everything would be okay.

"I'm not going anywhere," you say to him, "I'm here to listen and to talk whenever you want to."

After a while, he lifts his head from off of you and grabs your hand,wiping a couple of tears off of his face.

"The simplest words coming out of your mouth can make such a difference."

You smile and lean in towards him, kissing his cheek.

He smiles back and gets up, going over to your bed and grabbing your old guitar your grandma gave you four years ago.

He sits next to you once again and places his fingers ever so delicately on the strings, looking up into your eyes and playing a sequence of chords before beginning to sing you a song.

Honey you are a rock
Upon which I stand
And I come here to talk
I hope you understand