Moonlit

thirteen

vote / comment / kiss me

whatever floats ur rainbow goat okay enjOY

—

"I hate to disappoint you, but class is back that way." A pale finger cradling a Marlboro outstretched to point back to where I came from. 

I couldn't concentrate on Jake. I just gaped at him: his signature smirk, the black hoodie I had never seen him wear before, his eyes that held a thousand mysteries. And that all of a sudden, he had appeared out of nowhere. I almost brought my hand to his chest to make sure that something in there was beating; that he was real.

"What are you d-doing here?" was all I could manage to splutter out.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied nonchalantly. Taking another drag, Jake turned his head and exhaled that way, so he wouldn't direct the curling smoke back at me again.

I watched the fumes as they tumbled on top of each other and eventually disappeared. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. I didn't want to imagine what damage his lungs were experiencing.

"I ... needed to get out," I mumbled, still astonished that he was just here. Why didn't he attend school the past week? I answered his question, now he should answer mine.

To my frustration, he didn't respond, but only escalated his eyes up and down my body. I noticed a shade of violet painted under his eyes, and that the jet black hair peeking out of his pulled up hoodie was matted against his clammy forehead. His eyelids drooped every now and again, the irises underneath a haze of extremely dark browns.

Hidden behind his small sideways smile, he looked a kind of tired that even sleep couldn't fix.

Again, he brought the cigar to his lips, watching me intently. I started to get annoyed. Surely he could tell by my facial expression that I despised the idea of smoking?

"I didn't know you smoke," I said casually, as though I didn't dislike it, or remember a single occurrence from friday night. Including Ava.

He fumbled with the morbid thing, bringing it up to eye level so he could examine it. "What's it to you?"

It's everything to me. I care about you and I don't want you getting hurt. 

"Nothing! Nothing," I squeaked, startled by my own thoughts. He raised a brow at my sudden change in pitch.

I sighed, backtracking. "It's just ... Why? You know it's going to do you harm sooner or later."

He blinked slowly at me for a moment, as though he was trying to take in what I said. 

Then he laughed. He just laughed. It started as normal chuckles, until he threw his head back while his body shook. His hood fell off him, but he didn't seem to care. 

I watched in amazement as he started to look like he was running out of air. Although the sounds escaping his lips were mesmerizing and beautiful in a strange way, I began wanting him to stop being amused at something I didn't know about.

"Harm? Harm me?" He was still clutching his sides. "If anything is going to harm me, it's not going to be this pile of junk," he dropped the cigarette and stamped his foot on it, grinding it into the rocky ground. His eyes were widened, a crazed grin stamped on his face.

In that moment, if I was asked to paint insanity, then Jake would be my masterpiece.

"If it's a pile of junk then how come you seemed so attached to it?"