Bewildered, Tom shakes his head at me, the glimmer of a smile in his eyes despite his confusion. Both hands now clamped over my mouth and eyes wide, I stare at him, and he stares back, both daring each other to laugh. It's Tom who gives up first, barely suppressing peals of laughter. "SHH!" I whisper-shout, but I can't help it either. When he's finally recovered, he sighs. "I'm not even going to ask. Shall we go for a walk?"
Nodding, I take the gentlemanly arm he offers me, and he bows like an idiot, so I dig my elbow into his side. Here we are again, walking in silence down his corridor at odd hours of the morning. We creep down the stairs, shushing each other's frequent laughs. The door opens with a creak and cool air works its way into my lungs. I breathe in deeply, and Tom does the same, the floodlights from the poolside making his eyes sparkle and his hair glint.
An owl hoots and Tom jumps. "Wimp," I tease. He eyes me then takes a casual side-step towards me, before very neatly knocking his foot into the back of my knee, which buckles. "Ow!"
"Wimp," he says, and I laugh. "Come on."
We take a few silent steps towards the edge of the pool and his hand brushes against mine. I flinch but don't move away, hoping with one part of me, and shoving that feeling away with another. "It's 4 in the morning," Tom says. "Why're you even up?"
"Couldn't sleep ," I say. Neither of us are talking loudly, our voices barely audible. He shivers. "It's colder at night here," he observes.
"I'd offer you my t shirt, but I doubt it'd fit," I blurt, before I can stop myself, then blush and look down, kicking myself. He only laughs though. "True. How tall are you, three foot six?"
Usually I'd provide a scathing comment to anyone who dared comment on my height, but I didn't seem to mind. "Nearly, three foot seven actually."
He laughs again, and sense he's grinning as much as me. I'm glad it's dark. I look up at the silvery sphere rolling around between the stars. Everything seems so calm. Everything seems right. He shuffles closer, then whirls around so he's facing me, standing so close I can hear his steady breathing. I'm so deeply aware of the small amount of space between us and I beg myself to close it, close anything that stops us from touching. He's looking at me intently but tenderly, like he's asking me a question, and I can't rip my gaze from his eyes which are blazing with some kind of unreadable emotion. Opening his mouth, he starts to say something then stops.
I can't tell what he was going to say, or what he was going to do, or even what I'm feeling. But I can tell that something isn't being said. I can tell that the sky is rolled out inside us, birds soaring like angels in our chest; and a burning feeling right between my lungs rises and falls every time Tom moves.
A/N I also can't tell if I like this chapter or if I'm actually making an sense but enjoy anyways. I promise something will actually happen soon.
