Where The Light Doesn't Reach

8.

"I said no, Gray." I huff, already becoming frustrated with the boy sitting across from me at the cafe table.

Having accepted that Gray isn't going anywhere anytime soon, I've moved back to my usual spot in the college cafe, the both of us currently arguing over something stupid.

Again.

"I just don't get why I can't see it."

I drag a hand over my face tiredly, already over this conversation.

"Because I said no." I snap, aggravated with his persistence. Although I guess the word no has never worked in my entire life, so why the hell should it start now?

Gray rolls his eyes.

"Come on Carter, don't you think you're being a little overdramatic? I've seen your doodles in class, I know how talented you are - so why can't I just see what you're drawing?" He pleads, light grey eyes wide and puppy-like, the sight of them making me bite my lip.

Shit.

"Don't give me that look." I groan, immediately tearing my eyes away from him and focusing on my sketchbook, blocking his view of what I'm working on with my arm.

There isn't really a reason for why I don't want Gray to see it, I just think it's none of his business and don't like that he's bugging me about it. Besides, my art isn't that good, I don't even know why he wants to see it in the first place.

"Carter—" He whines, and I run a hand through my hair as I shoot him another glare. Tired of his begging, I finally move my arm from around my sketch and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

"Fine, now can you please shut the fuck up? You're distracting me and I can't draw properly." I complain, not turning it around but allowing him to watch as I work. Gray chuckles, looking triumphant with his dumb wide smile.

What an idiot.

After about five amazing minutes of silence - besides the usual loud buzz of the many voices around us - the tall boy eventually gets out of his seat and moves around the table to sit next to me, studying my drawing while humming in amusement.

"You know, you draw a lot of monsters and demons." He observes, making me frown. "How come?"

My hand pauses for a second as I think of an answer, however I'm unable to come up with anything so I just shrug before continuing on with what I was doing.

"You don't know? But you draw them pretty often, so that seems kind of weird that you just don't know—"

"Gray, shut up. I don't know, okay? I just like drawing them, I guess." I sigh, annoyed that he always has something to say and can never just let me move on with my life in peace. "If it bothers you, go watch someone else draw."

He doesn't reply to that, simply sitting there and drumming his ringed fingers on the table's surface as he usually does when neither of us are speaking. It's a habit of his that I noticed when he was at my house.

Another thing that's happened since then is that I gave up trying to make him leave, finally giving in and deciding that his presence isn't too bad as long as he doesn't pry where he shouldn't. He can get on my nerves pretty often - and I mean often - but overall he makes everyday a bit more interesting and even gives me a cigarette every now and then, so I guess I can deal with him for now. We've had a few conversations about movies and shows since then - considering we've both watched a lot of the same ones apparently - and it turns out that we have a lot more in common than I thought.