. I think he's thoughtful.
I hum mindlessly while strumming my guitar, plucking each string individually with random rythyms. As I do nothing of importance, Ash notices. He stops drawing on his tablet and crawls over to me. He stares at me as I pay no attention to him, until he grabs the guitar and gently places it behind himself.
I raise an eyebrow at that, curious as to what he's doing. He looks at me, brushing his soft, brunet bangs out of his dilated, icy eyes. He stares at me for a few more seconds as I stay silent, not wanting to scare him away from whatever he's doing.
Ash scoots beside me before placing himself in my legs that are innocently sitting criss cross applesauce. He presses his back up against my chest, grabbing my warm, albeit sweaty, hands and pulling them around himself.
He brings one of my hands up to his face, just pressing it to his soft and chapped lips. His voice is quiet as I feel his mouth open and his spit land on my skin. "What are you thinking about?"
I sigh, looking up at the tiled ceiling. Yawning to prevent myself from hyperventilating, I shrug. "You."
Silence fills the air, before his voice comes out, barely noticeable. "I was thinking about the same thing."
I smile at that, replying in a soft and joking way. "No shit, Sherlock."
He exhales out of his nose in an attempt at a pity laugh, before hunching forward slightly. I stay still.
"Are you okay, James? I don't want a shit answer. You're quieter than usual."
"What do you mean?"
