"In California with my toes in the sand," he hummed, his body slowly swaying. I emerged from the corner I was hiding behind and smiled.
"Use the sleeves of my sweater," I sung. He turned around, a smirk playing on his lips. He approached me, intertw...
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I knocked on the guest room where Jackson was staying in. He muffled a few words which I made out to be "come in". At least I hope they were.
I open the door slightly just to see what he was doing. The blonde boy was cornered by sheets everywhere, which I assumed was homework. His hair was spread across his head unevenly and his eyes looked pale. He had one ear-phone in and one hanging off the wire.
After a mental argument in my head, I decided to talk to him now. If the conversation really dragged on, I'd help him with his homework or something. I took a step in the room but his eyes remain focused on the paper in front of him.
"Hi," I fiddled with the hem of my shirt, wondering what to do with my hands. He finally raised his head after a look of pride, probably after solving a math equation.
His eyes met mine with an unreadable stare. I felt myself drowning in the oceans of his eyes under the intense eye-contact.
"Hey," he breathed out and gave me a tight-lipped smile. I took this as a sign of fair-ground rather than awkwardness. "Can I help you?"
I lost myself in the depths of my thoughts again. The things I never noticed about him were all hitting me at once now. The light stubble that grazed his jaw and parts of his cheekbones. His hair reminded me of a sunflower, the yellow petals but the brown seeds. He had dirty roots but they blossomed into light canary yellow locks.
"Sierra?" he spoke softly. My name rolled off his tongue in a manner that Dylan could never even dream of imitating. It gave my basic title so much more than just a few letters.
I quietly cursed myself (something I find myself doing quite often around Jackson) for spacing out again.
"Don't worry," he chuckled. "I do that, too."
I smiled, "I didn't know you wore glasses." It's true. The blue in his eyes were popping much more than usual due to the thick-rimmed glasses he wore.
"Only for school-work and such," his voice seemed so empty in a way. I wanted him to continue to talk so that I could pin it on something. If you were speaking to him at the moment, you would have never thought he'd be making the innuendos he had been before.
"Right," I brought my gaze down from him to the floor. I could hear him shifting on the bed and straightening his papers.
"What brings you here, anyway?"
"Faith- I," I face-palmed myself. "Sorry, I can't talk."
He wore an empathetic smile, "it's cool. You wanna sit?"
I grinned and sat on the opposite side of him, only straightened papers and pens in our way.
"Sorry," he mumbled and swiftly threw his papers into one of his folders. I watched his fingers slightly shake as he picked at the skin at the bed of his thumb nail.
