The Mind Of A Tipsy Teenager

16

"And in the end we were all just humans... drunk on the idea that love, only love could heal our brokenness"

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

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15th Sept 2017
1.15pm

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After what seemed like a very long period of time, I was finally done balling my eyes out on Zain's shirt.

My forehead lay a little below his shoulder, arms around his neck and hands loosely clutching his nape.

My chest felt lighter and mind clearer, however my puffy eyes hurt like hell.
Guess I really should have expected it with all the weeping I did.

With a clearer mind, the feeling of Zain's hands on my loose hair and my lower back became much more noticeable. His hand gently moved back and forth, softly caressing my helpless figure. I almost sighed in relief.

We shouldn't be doing this.

"Feeling better?" He questioned in a murmur. I managed to nod a little as I involuntarily gripped him tighter, sniffing lightly.

Angling my head a little towards Zain's neck, I opened a fraction of my eyes and observed a tiny bead of liquid stream down to his collarbone which then sunk into his shirt.

I'm not sure if it was the ticklish sensation of Zain's perspiration leaking down from his wet hair on my neck or the low sound of the school siren that snapped me out of my trance. I withdrew my hands from around him while his grip on my body loosened as I pulled away, keeping my head down. He silently regarded me with cautious eyes, tilting his head to get a better look at me.

While wiping away the remaining tears on my face, my eyes somehow landed on the big fat tear stain that I had left on his shirt.

Damn. It.

"Sorry for the...," I mumbled, nibbling my lower lip as I awkwardly pointed at the wet spot on his shirt.

Well this is embarrassing.

His hazel eyes followed my gaze and I internally cursed as I watched him peer at the stained spot and let out a smile, flashing that obvious dimple on his cheek.

"Ahh, it's no big deal. My shirt was drenched already," He stated, meeting my gaze before placing one hand on his hip while flipping back his wet hair with the other.

He grabbed the hem of his shirt and fluttered it dry, looking away to gaze at the school building, either oblivious to my stare or ignorant about it.

Suddenly realising how sweaty Zain was by the sight of him basically shining under the sun, I slowly crept my hand up to the side of my neck and wiped his dripped perspiration off with the long sleeves of my cotton sweater.

How did I even bear it?

"You're sweating so much...it's like you just...came out of the shower or something." I mumbled.

The boy in question lowered his head to casually shake off the excess water leaking down his hair before raising his head to reply in an amused tone.

"Yeah, well, training under the blazing sun has some side effects."

I sniffed, touching my cheek while he observed with attentive eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

I nodded my head, sniffing softly. The way Zain regarded me for a few following seconds proved that he didn't entirely believe me.