Paper Hearts | ✓ | [ e d i t i n g ]

Chapter Four - Hug someone sad

Exactly two days later, I found myself sitting on a park bench.

My mother forgave me, though she wasn't actually mad at me to begin with. She lectured on about how I was free to express myself and she didn't mind my over abundance of profanities used in one sentence. She was even impressed, from what I gathered. She thought I had come to the idea of opening up my true feelings on Cake Boss all by myself; that was cute.

In reality, it was a list that sparked the confidence and It was a list that was about to do it again.

I wasn't an outgoing person. I tended to stick to myself, watch netflix, and cook food. I didn't do a lot; I didn't have friends. it wasn't that I was mean or weird, it's just that I wasn't social. As soon as I went to talk to somebody that wasn't my mom, I got nervous. My palms got sweaty and my voice started to shake and soon I become a stuttering, bumbling mess who can't keep her hands out of her hair and can't meet anyone in the eyes. It really sucked.

I didn't have  a certain mission I was trying to accomplish, I was just waiting to see if an opportunity would arise. Maybe someone was walking their dog on the sidewalk at my feet. Maybe I would stand up at just the right time and their body would slam into mine and somehow the person walking the dog would find me okay enough to talk to. 

Hopefully, the dog was nice. 

Or maybe I'd see a homeless man sitting under a tree and I could offer to buy him a meal and give him some money. Maybe he'd tell me his story on how he'd gotten there or what hardships his life had given him before it gave him nothing.

Or maybe something else.

I turned my head to the right, looking for anything on the list to accomplish. 

Or maybe I'd turn my head to the right, a few of my red curls leaking from my bun, and I would see a boy crying. 

He looked about my age, with dark brown hair that lay tousled on his head. His elbows were on his knees, his face was in his hands and I could see the trails of tears and they traveled down the plain of his cheek. Under a tree, clouded by shade, he was beautiful.

Hug someone sad.

I felt my chest tighten with nerves and my palms start to prickle. It felt like a now or never moment, like if I didn't hug him I wouldn't hug anyone ever again.

So I found it in me to stand. That was the first step. The next step was taking literal steps. My feet felt like weights as I walked over to him. I hoped it didn't look like I was working to hard to walk. 

Placing myself next to him, I could feel the scratchy surface of the bench beneath my jeans and it was only a reminder that I wasn't on a bench in the sun, but on a bench in the shade with a boy who didn't know I was there. I had to move before I could stop myself.

Leaning forward, I wraped my arms around his biceps and squeezed. He tensed, looking up slightly to look at me. It felt awkward, but I didn't let go. 

My mind was dizzy with thought. This is awkward. He's going to think i'm a creep. He's going to hate me right away. This is not how you make someone feel better. He's going to.... or, he's going to hug me back.

Hesitantly, his arms look around my waist and his face gently burried into my shoulder. For a second, I was shocked. I blinked a few times and tried to remember how to move my jaw; mainly to close it. Then I hugged him a bit tigher gently put my cheek atop of his head.

My shoulder felt warm with tears but he didn't move. He just sat there for awhile, letting me hold him. And it felt like he needed it. It was almost like I could feel the burden wrapped around him, like he himself was so swallowed by demons that it was trying to swallow me too.

I wouldn't let that happen. I just kept hugging him.

He pulled back slightly, a strand of his hair falling against his forehead. I was struck by how beautiful his eyes were; like the ocean, alive with with so many shades of blue but dead all the same. I tried to hold his gaze, " um... are you okay?"

A small, unhumored smile touched his lips, " Yeah... I'm fine."

He wiped his eyes and I couldn't help but notice how collected his movements were; Like he was constantly on needles edge. I looked down briefly, " You sure?"

" .... I guess." He nodded, " yeah."

Gingerly, I held out my hand, " I'm Mari. Well, Marisole, but I go by Mari."

He took my hand is his, arching a brow just faintly, " Theo. Well, actually it's Connor Theoden, but I go by Theo." 

" Nice to meet you." I smiled slightly.

the ocean of his eyes met mine, " I suppose the feeling's mutual."

" I think that's nice to hear? I'm... I'm really bad with people." I replied, smiling shyly.

Theo shrugged, " That's fine."

We sat in silence for a little while. His voice was different. It was smooth, like silk, and measured. But the silk of his tone wasn't quite right; it was ripped. I pulled my legs up, crossing them, " So, does this make us friends?"

" Is this how you normally make friends?"

" I um." I played with my sleeve, " Don't really have friends."

" Oh." He said, " That makes two of us."

We fell silent again. With a sigh, he said, " alright here. If we happen to see each other again, we're friends. We'll go the whole nine yards, exchange numbers, maybe even hang out. Okay?"

I smiled, " yeah."

He moved to stand up. Quickly, I said, " Theo?"

The brunette turned slightly, looking over at me with stunning eyes, " Yes?"

" When we see each other again, we'll be friends. so i'm here for you, okay? I guess, yeah...." My voice faded out as I got to nervous to speak.

He looked away briefly, then looked at me again, " Okay."

It was kind of odd how he went. He followed the sidewalk and just breezed away, much like the wind. Into the park trees, out of my line of sight. He vanished.

I could still feel his arms around my waist, a bit colder than they should be on a nice summer day. That didn't matter, I had hugged someone sad. I had made a friend; no wait, excuse me. I was about to make a friend, sort of.

Looking down, I smiled to myself because I didn't feel so alone anymore.