i don't know [kiribaku]

i

I don't know what it was, but some kind of persistent noise forced me to jump up from my sleep, eyes darting open.

The noise was weird. Have I heard this noise before? I don't know. It sounded awfully familiar. It sounded like, like tapping, or even knocking, but I know no one was knocking on my door: the noise was coming from behind me.

Ah, fuck, I thought, having just now realized that someone was tapping on my window. Hopefully a murderer that can end my suffering because this noise was starting to irritate me.

Alas, unsurprisingly, it was not a murderer, but merely a boy with bright red hair and deep crimson eyes and sharp teeth and a smile, tapping away on my window, tap, tap, tap.

The tap, tap, tap quieted down as I roughly opened the window, staring down the boy as his smile grew. He jumped inside my room, unceremoniously, and almost collapsed on the floor as he lost his footing, but I yanked his arm to keep him on his feet.

"What," I shut the window and turned the nightlight on, "do you want, dumbass."

Looking at the clock, it was currently 2:43 am. I would, if it were not so late, blow his head off with my palms.

"I wanted to see you!"

When I talked, my voice sounded deep, rough and scratchy from not having talked in a couple hours. His voice, however, sounded bright and like his usual self, meaning he has been up for some time.

Maybe it was the fact that I'm sleepy, or maybe it was him, but I could not understand what he said. I must have squinted, or done something with my face that showed confusion, as he chuckled quietly and repeated what he said.

"I wanted to see you," he said, quietly.

I groaned. What an idiot. I rubbed my face with my hands, ready to fall back into bed, but his hand shot out and grabbed mine, keeping me standing.

He asked, "Do you trust me," and I must have nodded as he turned around and opened my window again, still holding onto my hand. We climbed out swiftly, landing in the ground with a soft huff escaping my lips.

I don't know what it was, the moon, the stars, the fact that it's midnight, the fact that his hand is holding mine, but he looked—I don't even know—amazing, I guess.

And at that moment, nothing mattered except for him and the way he was looking at me.

In that exact moment, I forgot how to be worried about the fact that I'm feeling all of these unintelligible emotions, I forgot how to be worried about trying to figure out what our relationship exactly was, because damnit we're both smart enough to know that this is not purely platonic; and then I sighed, or maybe he sighed, or was it both of us that sighed, because we know that we have all the time in the world to process through our emotions.

So, I let him lead me down the street, his hand holding mine.