Disingenuous

Chapter 4- Negletful Freinds

ZANE
"So what did you want?" I asked.

His eyes left mine as they concentrated on his red solo cup, but he finally looked back up to me with a shy grin.

"I just wanted to know if you were having a good time at the party? You planning to join HRC anytime soon?" He shouted over the music. It was really just a casual question, but the way his words smoothly rolled off his tongue captured me.

"Um yeah, for sure HRC seems great, I love human rights. I bet you're a great leader, and the party's just mwah." I rambled, adding a chief's kiss at the end, which I realized immediately after could have been avoided. Who the fuck says 'I love human rights', that literally sounds beyond idiotic.

To my surprise King just laughed at my odd behaviour, His hand landed on my shoulder as he did so. The casual contact was greeted by a swarm of unnerving butterflies, highlighting just how deprived of human contact I truly am. When his laugh subdued his eyes stared into mine again as he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"That's not the real reason I wanted to talk to you" He shouted over the music. I yelled back asking him what he meant, he responded,  "Can we go outside for a sec?"

For the first time in the many years I've observed King, (definitely in the most non-stalkerish way of course), his eyes were filled with uncertainty, rather than the usual glaze of fervent determination. I could tell he needed to get something off his chest, so I shook off the nagging feeling that I should be somewhere else right now, and nodded my head.
He held my wrist as he maneuvered me through the house. Eventually the two of us arrived before a glass sliding door that opened to his backyard. He opened it and led us outside.

As my eyes adjusted to the sudden lack of light I noticed, to my surprise, that the moonlit yard was uninhabited by lingering teenagers. It was a farm-esque backyard that stretched for at least an acre and at its center was a quaint, clear-glass greenhouse, with white wood support beams on its borders and its roof. I followed him as we walked on the cobblestone paved path that led to it.

The warmth concentrated on my wrist from his hand vanished as he reached into his pockets and unlocked the door with a key. When we walked in I couldn't see much, until he turned on the lights that adorned the ceiling. The warm lights exposed the vintage looking black and white french style mosaic that the room was paved with. The rustic white wooden beams on the ceiling were clothed by pastel purple lavender that clung on in a tangle of vines. There were a multitude of plants sprawled about, some hung from pots hooked to the support beams, whilst others sat atop vases of different shapes and sizes on the sides of the room. In the center was a forest green picnic table with cute matching benches, and an unlit lantern at its center.

As we sat down he held my hand again, but this time, instead of gripping onto my wrists, his long fingers met mine, adding a new warmth to not just my fingers, but my face as well. He smiled, but this time it was much less confident than all his prior lighthearted grins.

"Is it cool if I hold your hand? Wait, sorry I did it before I asked." he spoke rapidly, removing his fingers from mine. This was the first time I've ever seen him anywhere remotely close to unsure of anything. However even now I could see his determination. Instead of responding, I extended my fingers towards him to interlock our hands. I'm not sure my voice could even work right now if I tried to say anything.

"I've noticed you before. Looking at me." his words were exhaled in one long breath, jumbling them together a bit. My eyes mirrored the diameter of Jupiter after hearing this, the whole time I could've sworn I was being slick.

"Why are you just now talking to me about it then?" I blinked, caught off guard by my sudden ability to gather words. 

"I don't know, I've always been kinda scared to talk to you, or even entertain the thought of doing anything about my feelings. It feels like your interest has been fading, so I either have now or never." my only response to his words was a quiet succession of slow blinks.