Evan's POV
Everyday I sit in this one, particular tree. This really big, dense tree. So long that no matter how much you climb, you can't reach its zenith. It has innumerable branches, the best I've ever seen. And I had to climb it. As soon as I saw it on a walk one day, I immediately thought "look at it. It's huge. Just look at it's beauty. Imagine climbing that. Imagine climbing that. I'm going to climb it." Then bam, I climbed it. Branch by branch, I did fall a few times on the first run but I got the hang of it. But that was when my stupid brain decided to hold my journal in my stronger hand so I couldn't climb. Now it's basically part of my routine.
I'm so high up, anyone who is scared of heights would only worsen their fear. Honestly it's a bit... tremendous- but I've climbed trees for years so you get used to it. The countless bright green leaves that stick out through the entire field, the thick branches to keep you steady, you're concealed from the eyes. I didn't even realize it until I started singing once to myself and someone at the bottom didn't know who it was, like at all. They kept looking around and couldn't even see me. I was unnoticeable.
I've been going to this tree for almost 3 months now, and it's been the best 3 months of my life. It's truly relaxing, having whatever the amount of time you need to yourself without any interruptions. You have a fairly decent view of the field, some leaves may get in the way from passing winds but that's about it. You can watch and observe as the world goes by, all kinds of people going on walks like me, spending time with their family, even a few dates where the guy tries way too hard to impress the girl. I even see a few couples whose partner is the same gender, it's comforting knowing everyone here is accepting. It's just been me for the longest time, sitting in a tree by myself.
Until he came..
A boy, around my age from what I can see- this height makes it a bit difficult. What I can see is his hazelnut brown hair, reflecting the sun as it shines down on his locks. It's a short length, it doesn't cover his beautiful ocean eyes that I can only see in glances as he wanders around the field. His fashion choice is out there but unique, basic yet different. He looks so cute but looks so lonely at the same time. Of course I would be a hypocrite when I say he's always here by himself when I do the same thing for an even longer period of time. Despite me being lonely, he shouldn't be.
He sits under the tree, resting against the trunk. Relaxing his muscles and his posture, seeming to not have a care in the world. Which means he hasn't seen me yet, as expected. This is the first time I've seen him, I wonder if he's new here. Or he just doesn't go outside much, he looks good though. It's a shame I've only just now seen him, he might never come back and knowing me I'll miss seeing his content attitude.
...
It's the next day and yet again I'm in my favorite tall tree. Hidden from all social interaction, I'd rather not have small talk from this elevation. I learned from... past experiences... no I just laughed once from a notification and fell down. That hurt. There's even a mark from when I fell, falling onto a thin branch on the way down. It left a very noticeable scratch, if it went any deeper I would've needed stitches. Thank god i'm not that clumsy.
Just by looking down anyone might feel queasy-... oh. He's back. The boy from yesterday is back. He's wearing another plaid shirt button up, with darker jeans. I do see a light jacket wrapped around his waist, a darkish gray that fits with his outfit. Oh yeah, I haven't tried talking to him yet. I wonder what his voice sounds like, I hope it's deep. It would really fit his personality- damn I sound like a stalker. Already knowing a random guy's personality solely based on his attire and posture, I wonder if I could get a job where my special abilities could be of use.
Back to the more important question, should I try talking to him? Wouldn't that disturb him? He looks too peaceful to bother. And I could be wrong on his personality, he could be passive aggressive or something and yell at people. Probably from someone hurting him- what the frick am I talking about? I guess that's a side effect from spending so much time alone, I need a friend group or something. He seems to fit the qualifications though, anyone would really. I'm not picky. Clearly.
I end up talking to myself long enough for him to leave when I look back down. Dang it. He left without a trace, I don't even see him in the field. How long did I have a conversation with myself? Must have been longer than I thought. Hm. Noted. I guess there is tomorrow, only if he shows up again. He has for two days in a row, there's a possibility.
...
It's been a week and I still haven't collected up the courage to talk to him. I've been writing small notes about the mystery boy, recording his clothing, his posture, his mood, everything until he leaves. Including the time he arrives and leaves. It's always been sometime around an hour and a half. It's strange how he can tell how long he's been here when he doesn't have a watch or anything to tell time. It's always consistent, everyday. I just bring my phone, notebook, and sometimes a regular book too. It's enough to keep me occupied for an hour or two, plus resting every once and while when I'm tired.
I'm just doodling when the boy arrives, right on time as usual. I smile like an idiot for only a moment, excited upon seeing him. This time he's on the phone, talking to someone who is potentially worsening his mood. I would fangirl over his voice but he looks frustrated and uneasy, his style even changed. It's more... sudden. Like when you woke up late and remembered you had an appointment, rushing to make it on time. It's rushed. So is his breathing. I feel bad. This might be a good time to make a note of this.
I reach beside me for my notebook and it's... not there. Hm. Maybe I forgot it? No, I climbed up with it so that means it-... oh my god. I look back on the ground below me and there it is, falling through the air. Then it fell. I stare at it as it makes it 'thump' on the grass. It's muffled but audible, audible for the boy to hear it. I'm dead. My cover is blown. Abort mission. Abor-
"A journal?" He talks to himself as he inspects the new journal that appeared next to him. He's going to read it. He's going to think I'm a creep. Dammit dammit dammit! Really Evan?! Clumsy idiot. I bite my hand in anticipation as he holds my journal, not opening it yet. Maybe he believes in privacy and will respect- he opened it.
Part 2 will be out soon!
Have a good day/night 💙🐈💙
