Gabriel: Prequel

two

Soft thuds hit the window of my bedroom, sending a light echo all around.

Attempting to get out bed, my body aches and stiffens at the punishment I had recieved, slowing down my pace to the window - leading to more thuds at the window. Harder. Once I reach the window, I peer out in the pitch black darkness of the night sky, squinting to make out a figure.

"Hey, dumbass, look down here," a familar voice calls out from down below; following the voice, my eyes fall on a sight I wouldn't ever forget. Harper.

"You really didn't wanna miss out on seeing me in the bedroom, huh?" I grin, leaning on my elbow on the window sill.

Even in the darkness, her unmistakable glare pierces through me, and I grin even wider, the aches in my body softening at the sight of her.
"You're an asshat, you know. Get down here before I come up there myself - and don't even think about making an innuendo, or I'll rip off your tongue."

She's kinda setting an impossible task here, asking me to sneak out of the house - if something goes wrong, the ache in my body will pale in comparison to what could happen next. Cautiously opening the door, my heart stops beating as I listen out to any noise or indication that my parents could be awake. The steps I take into the unknown down the stairs command me to stop breathing or make any noise until my hand falters on the backdoor. Am I really risking myself just to see her again: to see a girl that probably thinks I'm immature; who thinks nothing of me and who doesn't know how serious I am?
Chuckling lightly to myself, I nod. Yeah, I really am doing all of this for her, because then I'd just be some stupid kid who doesn't even know the extent of their own feelings.

As I open the door leading into the garden, the moonlight conveniently spills on Harper who stands there, crossed arms and annoyance etched on her face. Maybe I really just am a fool who's too head over heels, but something about her tells me that girls like her don't come around very often - and when they do, they don't stick around forever.
I slow down my pace to savour this moment - the moment of seeing her outside my window, and my body still feeling a rush of excitement, despite the pain spreading through my body.

"If you walk any slower, I will leave you here and walk away," she seethes, impatiently shaking her leg.

A genuine, hearty laugh rises from me and my pace quickens, just for her.

"I know you're going to kill me, but...you look beautiful under the moonlight," I breathe earnestly, only a few steps away from each other.

Her body stiffens, her eyes widening, and I think I've got her speechless, making me internally laugh.
She doesn't respond for a long time, instead she falls onto the grass, sitting against a tree.

Following suit, I take a place near her, gingerly sitting myself down as the coarsing pain in ribs intensifies.

We sit in a comfortable silence underneath the draping moonlight, both of us sitting on the opposite side of the tree, not looking at the other.

"What happened to you?" Harper asks after a while, shuffling against the autumn leaves.

"I play football - it was a football accident."

"I didn't know they let dorks play on the team," she mutters, her voice hinting at the smallest bit of humour.

I chuckle audibly, snaking around the tree, only a few inches away from her, "Do you really think I'm a dork, Harper?"

Whipping her head around, her eyes widen at the proximity between us. "No."

"No?"
"No I think you're a d-"
"A dashing, daring and dazzling man?"
"...No."

"By the way, do you even know my name?" I ask, curiousity snaking its way in.
"I don't need to. I don't care."

"It's Gabe. Or Gabriel, but yeah, no one says that."

She doesn't respond, letting us fall back into a comfortable silence. I wonder, however, what she was here for, or whether she needed a break from her life as much as I did.

________________________________________

(Harper's POV)

The leaves that are left on any trees sway silently in the night, the trees further behind forming dancing silhouettes in the distance, forming a perfect scene with the scarce sprinkle of stars.

I hadn't come to this ass' house to sit and play pleasantries with him in his garden at all, but the sincerity in his compliment threw me off: trying to hide his limp, he stood defiant as he called me beautiful. I had thrown rocks at his window, made it as clear as possible that I don't care, yet he still had the nerve to compliment me.
Something about the serenity of the night made it hard to tell him what I was really here for - to end ties with him in case he heard anything he shouldn't have, and return to our separate lives. But I can't.

I peek quickly at him behind the tree, watching him silently as he stares into the same far off distance; even though we're at two separate sides, we're seeing the same distance, sitting in the same silence.

No matter how much my dislike for him rolled about in my head, he needed this one night of nothingness, I know it because I've worn the same look before, too.

"It's pretty late, you should head in," I say quitely, matching the still of the world.

No loud response disrupts the quiet, so I look again to find him leaning heavily against the tree, his body in a rhythmic pattern of inhaling and exhaling.
I tentatively shuffle closer to him, watching the tiredness from his face fade away and he sleeps, his eyes fluttering slowly.
The cold of the night whips around us, blanketing the sleeping boy in a tight embrace of the harsh winter air, yet somehow, he still looks so calm and carefree - despite his pain he's probably kept inside.

Getting up, I take a step away from the house, but unable to resist one glance back, I turn around, towering over him.

"Damn it," I mumble, shrugging off my coat, gently draping it over him, tucking it in by his sides, and patting his ribs lightly, silently wishing him a good recovery. After my good act of charity, I continue to walk away, but a pull on my arm turns me around back to him.

Eyes still closed, a small smile spreads on his lips. "Thank you."

I don't move his hand off because something much stronger is pulling me to stay stuck in place, not letting me walk away. "Shut up, I didn't do it for you, okay?"

His smile widens softly at my response and I internally kick myself for smiling too.

"Goodbye...Gabriel," I whisper, removing his hand as he falls back into his slumber; walking back into the night, I resist the urge to look back, and brace myself to continue life without an annoying ass in my life.