Companionable Silence

by: Amy

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Man, I'm bored. She's looking at me with a smile, though, so I guess she's having fun. Who would have guessed? Miss Gossip About Everything Unimportant is loving the silence. I think I could drive a rusted nail through my head and be having a better time.

Except, it is kind of okay to look at her. She's got on a short black skirt, that's as soft as it looks and a dark green shirt that makes me think of gypsies. It fits her curves really well. Sometimes when we're in the dark, I notice how small her waist is, how tall she is. Sometimes when we're in the dark, I seem to take a better look at her than I do when we're not. Of course, why would I want to examine something that's so obviously wrong and just as obviously... working out?

Her hand is really soft in mine and she smells faintly like apple lotion. Or maybe that flower... Appleblossom. I think, whatever. She probably rubs it in after every shower, or every bath. Hm, there's something I don't know about her.

I break the silence. "Do you take baths or showers?"

She looks at me oddly. "Both, it depends. But that doesn't mean you can picture me doing either of them."

The quiet descends again. I saw this cartoon the other day with vampires in it. Maybe I was watching Spiderman. Anyway, there were these people pretending to be vampires to get attention and make a name for themselves, but who turned out to be pretty harmless. It made me think of her. All talk. Sometimes the talk hurts, but all talk anyway.

No, it was Batman.

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I wish he'd say something. Which makes me sick, because usually I can't wait for him to shut up. He's so annoying when he talks. But there are compensations. If I had known so far back that he would be able to make me feel... the way that he makes me feel, I wouldn't have been so harsh to him throughout the years. Or maybe I would have, I don't know.

But I do know that he makes me tingle.

He's sitting there, acting like he doesn't know that he's particularly hot tonight. He has a black t-shirt on that kind of hugs his skin, and for once doesn't have a picture of a cartoon or words on it. And his black jeans look just as good. Man, why is it that Harmony and the rest of the bitches I call my friends don't ever see him when he looks like this?

I don't think they've ever seen his eyes, either. He's got such great eyes. Like a hazel brown. Something. I'm not sure what to call the color, but I know they glow when he looks at me. I want to kiss him right now. But I can't just do it, I have to lead into it with a good fight, and he seems content to not talk. Dammit.

I heard this song the other day that was by Faith Hill. I like her, one of the few country music artists I can stand. The words went "It's the way you love me, it's a feeling like this. It's that pivotal moment, it's unsinkable. This kiss, this kiss. Unthinkable." I'm not sure if those were the exact words, but it made me think of him. I've never kissed anyone who was as good as he is.

Of course, I won't tell him that. How could I?

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She's just staring at me. I'm going crazy. That's it, I can't take this anymore.

I tug her hand until she falls forward into my lap. She looks up at me with a surprised smile, one that tells me she's as glad for the interruption as I am. Twisting her so that she falls neatly in my lap, I pull her head to mine and kiss her.

Ahh, that's what I've been waiting for.

Her hands lock behind my neck and she fiddles with the hair on the back of my head and I groan, leaning into her mouth. She opens it under mine, letting me explore it with my tongue. Who would have guessed? I wonder again. Who would have guessed?

Silence be damned.

The End

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