Skinny Love

Chapter 35: Poet

Matt's P.O.V

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When we got home, everyone was super tired so everyone went up to their rooms. I followed Avi up the stairs and entered our room.

Avi went into the bathroom to change her clothes so I decided to take out my notebook.

I read through what I had written and decided they were all quite good. All of them were poems. Most of them were poems I had written for Aviani and a few were about Aviani.

Avi is always asking to read what's in my notebook but I say no because I'm afraid she'll think I'm weird. I'm afraid of her knowing that she means so much to me.

I feel like she wouldn't date me because I am who I am. I feel like I'm not her type and that she'll prefer someone more attractive or taller or just better.

I don't know. It's just really frustrating.

Avi pranced out of the bathroom with my jumper on, she rubbed her eyes under her glasses. I ran my hand through my hair and watched her make her way to the bed. She pulled the sheets back and jumped inside them and put them over herself so I could only see her head. She smiled up at me.

"Are you cold?" I asked Avi, pushing her hair behind her ear. She blushed.

"I'm fine, thanks. Has anyone told you how pretty your eyes are?" She whispered, sitting up and looking down at her hands. I smiled to myself. 

Avi's P.O.V

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"As a matter of fact, no. I'm actually quite curious as to what you see in them." Matt said, he grabbed my hand gently. I smiled. I saw him, that's what I saw in his eyes. I saw the color of forests and cloudy skies. 

"It's hard to explain. I see you. Your eyes betray everything you feel Matt. I..." My voice trailed off. He smiled crookedly.

"You can continue."

"No, I've talked a lot, too much really. I'm fine." I said. Matt looked at me with his eyebrows raised. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He pulled out his mysterious black notebook. I studied it closely hoping i could maybe guess or deduct what was in the sleek black moleskin notebook this boy carried around with him.

"You do this a lot you know." He said flipping through the pages of the moleskin. I exhaled through pursed lips.

"What do you mean?" I asked. Matt stopped at one page and smiled. He looked up and chuckled. 

"You start talking really fast and you move your hands in the cutest gestures. You bubble over with passion about what you are trying to say. Your eyes get light and your dimples show deep and then suddenly your eyes get wide. They get wide because you have realized something. What they have realized is that you've been speaking. You've been speaking your mind, you're saying what you want to say, you are excersising your freedom of speech. That's exactly what your body doesn't want you to do. You feel like the person you are telling this to is not interested or listening or thinks you're ridiculous. You shut yourself down. You trash your brilliant opinion because of the person sitting infront of you. Aviani, don't do that to me." He said making solid eye contact the whole time.

He looked down at his moleskin and started reading.

"I remember one time you told me about the first time you were called annoying. Remember the feeling you described to me. Remember how your breath stopped short in your chest. I can see the way the light must've drained from your eyes even though I know that your cheeks were probably ablaze. I could feel the way your throat tightened as you tried to form an argument that got lost in a sea of words. Your eyes didn't dare to leave the floor.

You were only 8.

You're 16 now and I still see the light drain from your eyes when you talk about your interests for 'too long,' apologies littering every other sentence, all of your words trailing off the ledge you haven't dared to leap from in almost exactly 8 years. 

I could listen to you forever, though i know that speaking for 3 uninterrupted minutes makes you anxious. All I want you to know is that you deserve to be listened to for 3 minutes, for 10 minutes, for 2 hours, forever.

I know that there will be people who cannot handle your grace, your beauty, your wisdom, your heart; mostly because they can't handle their own.

But sweetheart, you never have and never will be ' too much'." He finished with a laugh. I felt my fingers shake and a few tears escape my eyes. He embraced me with his loving arms and for the first time in forever, I felt wanted.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for crying and shaking." I whispered into his chest. He stroked my hair.

"It's okay. Even my dad does sometimes." He whispered.

"Well what iw as going to say was that your eyes were easy to read and that they were way prettier than mine." I said pulling back and sitting criss-cross apple-sauce infront of Matt on the bed. Hey chuckled at my words.

"It blows my mind that after everywhere you've been, by that I mean different galaxies and worlds with completely different life forms, nobody has ever bothered to tell you that your eyes aren't brown dollface. 

They are copper against honey and sage. When they water, they glow, two perfect orbs the same shade as nature after it rains.

You are definitely not as simple as you lead most everybody to think." He whispered bringing his hand to my cheek. I lifted mine and placed it on top of his larger one.