Let's Fall in Love at 17

Let the night change

Something in the night makes me dream
Of the worlds far off
And oh! How peaceful the thought seems

***

The boy sitting on the ledge turned his head, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of some kind of alcohol in the other. His black hair had turned messy by the wind, forest green eyes red-rimmed.

"Hi..." He drawled, taking a drag out of his cigarette, the smoke mingled with the wind but the smell didn't reach the air around me.

"Umm... hi?" I hesitated, looking at his legs hanging down. "Aren't you afraid you'll fall?"

"Maybe." He shrugged his shoulders, "Why don't you come over here and maybe I won't be so afraid." He patted the spot beside him, the silver ring on his middle finger clinked with the glass as he took a swig from the bottle.

"I'm not really sure about that..."

"Why did you climb all the way up here, then?" He questioned, making a good point.

Oh what the hell!

Gripping the railing I easily swung myself over and onto the thin ledge. He offered me a hand which I gratefully took and carefully sat down beside him.

For a moment we were silent, just two strangers gazing at a sleeping town. Until he attempted to bring the cigarette back to his lips, my hand automatically reached out and slapped the stick out of his hand. It went flying to the ground.

"Hey, what the hell?" He shouted, throwing up his hands, the voice echoing in the quietness.

"I don't like the smell." I replied in a monotonous voice. He sighed, his hand searching the back pocket of his pants. He pulled out a packet of cigarettes and proceeded to light another one.

I slapped the whole pack from his hand, the weight of it made no sound when it hit the floor.

"Bitch." He angrily whispered.

"Asshole."

"No, actually, Ashton."

"What?"

"My name. It's Ashton." He confidently stated, seeming more vigilant than before, a crooked smile lit up his face.

I scowled at him, "Ella." I said, not wanting him to know my real name.

"Cute name." He gulped down half the content of the bottle in his hand. Now that I was looking closely at it, I identified it as whiskey, "So Ella. What brings you up on the tower of death, barefoot and with a shoe in your hand?" He pointed to the shoe I was still gripping.

"Tower of death?" I asked.

"See because if I did this," He put his hand on my shoulder blade and made a jerking movement, "And if I did this, you'd fall over and... die. So the death tower." He explained in his drunken state.

"You're really drunk, aren't you?"

He gave me a look that said "Duh, bitch look at me."

"Now are you going to tell me or what?"

"Here's a deal. What if I told you why I'm here and you do the same?" I offered, taking the emptying bottle from his hand and putting it on my other side. He didn't object to it.

"Alright. Yeah, that's fair. But you start." Nodding his head, he brought it closer to my ear, "I can't promise I'll tell you the truth though."

I put my hand over his face, pushing it back. "Personal space, my guy."