Apr 07

short story beginning.

parting the seas of worry with worn hands, weary from carving your name into my heart. i should just. . . stop. i slap myself. this is not ok. running my hands through my hair, and wanting to touch your's so badly. . . what?! what is going on with me? "damn it!" i cuss at the heavens, this was not supposed to happen. i was never. . . never supposed to. . to. "damn it" i mutter again, my fists clenched, and my eyes squeezed shut, to keep the tears from streaming down my face. 

"hey, are you ok?" 

 i look up at you, your concerned smile. . . with your perfect lips. . and subtle blush. . . i look down again, and i feel my face flush, as i use a much stronger word of distress in my head. i try for a yawn, and push the hair back out of my face "yeah, im good." i say, shoving my hands in my pockets

you look at me suspicously, one beautiful eyebrow raised in a disbiliving manner "really? casue you were just yelling damn it at the sky."

i try to keep my composure "what? no, that. . .uh that wasn't me." 

your eyebrow lowers, and now your just plain not beliving me. this is bad, i should stop lying. but if i tell you that im not ok, your going to ask why. sh-tt, i think. your goign to ask anyway, and as predicted. . .

"what's wrong?"

god i think, she has no idea does she

"you know you can tell me anything right? i won't judge you. i promise." 

can i though? i wonder "nah, im fine, really." 

you sigh and punch my shoulder lightly, "stop being stuborn wont you?" 

i feint to the left, and land a soft blow on your right elbow

you roll your eyes, and flick my cheek, your long nails making a snappy sound as they click together. "let's go back to the camp, common!" you say, grabbing my wrist, and pulling me after you, i follow willingly, but not fast enouph for you to feel that you can let go. because i don't want you to.