it's the night time that matters

4th lesson

i wait under golden earrings, tailing off from every rustle coming out the streets.
wish this graceful, alluring pit of hideous creatures and waltzing flashes would devour my fragile half-blurry soul before it becomes too late for...
the crunch of branches makes me turn my head to the left as every dark thought is fading away and sun awakes.

"now, i should remember you show up even earlier than on time."
the gold locks shimmer among the heavy earrings of the now familiar willow. his hair twinkles under the last traces of scarlet sunset and i search for his face, his eyes. his tired voice is whirling around me, whispering in my right ear then giggling in another one, making me dizzy and i don't wanna lose this feeling of carelessness.

"what you got for us today? hopefully it's something that you don't do with others," he finally appears in front of me, catching my eyes instantly, staring hungrily as if he knows i'm hiding those harpy's secrets.
the melancholy in the eyes of his devour me. i remember asking my mom what that word meant since she loved to use it when we were discussing love.
i've never thought i would use that word so soon but, oh, how couldn't i?
i'll always look where he does, even if we watch the streets burning.

"did you finish the book?" i settle down on the fluffy grass embracing all kinds of smells that are coming from the earth, the willow, the wind. he stands upon me with his head tilted down, his eyes still on mine.
he then shifts his weight and lazily flops afore me, getting all comfy while opening his small bag.
"i did. why?"
he takes out the book i firstly saw him with, and my mind is all over him, his slim fingers, the way he turned the pages.
"my mom reads it as well so i think it's a really great story. she reads me before i go to bed."
"lucky," the sigh catches me in surprise as he shuts the book and looks up. i wonder how his hair would feel in my hands. "my parents almost never home."

and we look at each other, silently. he grabs me by the shoulder as we stand up and drags me somewhere quiet. a small deserted bridge behind his house. i hope we will feed some fish.
hanging on the railing of the bridge, he throws bread crumbles as i quietly watch him, the hair covering his whole face as the wind meets us.
"the things that happened in that book are truly mind-opening, it makes you believe life isn't that bad," he whispers, noticing me staring at him and not at red fish.
"but who said i will experience something that's worth staying?"
and he throws what was left from the bread away.

i wonder why he thinks like that and i know there's no need to respond.
my hand finally reaches for his head, tucking the locks behind his ear. his whole body freezes and my hand still feels the warmth.

"do you want to go to my house?"