their thoughts on love

sunset on a bench

Silas watched from afar as Noah drew on her sketchpad. She bit her lower lip in concentration, and her brows were furrowed so that she almost looked angry to someone who didn't know her. Taking her eraser from her leg, she used it for something he didn't know before she started sketching with a pencil again.

Holding it out in front of her, she did the usual tilts from one side to the other. She was definitely focused, and she didn't even seem to notice how there was a bee flying nearby. It wouldn't matter anyway, seeing as she was too calm for the insect to even pay any mind to her. It flew past her and landed on a nearby flower that Silas knew she would like. It would look nice if it was placed in her hair or behind her ear too.

He shouldn't be thinking like this. He can't. This is the wrong place and wrong time. He had to figure out a way for...

His mind blanked and he watched in adoration as she unsuccessfully tried to use one of her hands to push back her bangs. she tried again, and finding that it wasn't working, she put down her pencil and used both hands to hold them back before moving her hands and huffing as they fell back onto her forehead.

Without thinking, he took the bobby pin out of his pocket and walked up to her, holding it out to her. "It looks like you need this."

She looked up at him, her mouth slightly open as she received it. She thanked him as she put it in her hair. It wasn't able to hold back all of her hair, but it seemed to provide some sort of help.

He carefully sat beside her, careful not to get too close so that he wouldn't disturb her as she went back to drawing. For reasons he couldn't understand, she scooted over a little to be right next to him, bringing her mechanical pencil and eraser along with the sketchbook still on her lap.
"What do you think?"

He looked down at the sketch she was tilting his way, and raised his eyebrows. "I don't remember you enjoying sea life."

"I don't. I mean, not usually... I guess I thought it would be easy to draw jellyfish because they're just... you know..."

"Water?"

"Mm, that too, but shape wise, it's only a circle and some lines. But-" she groaned, "This isn't as easy as I thought it would be. Maybe I did need a reference..."
She tapped her pencil on her chin before flipping to another page and looking up at Silas, starting to draw a circle.

He watched her face slowly change from pensive to focused again, listening to how the pen sounded against the paper. He looked away at the sunset for a moment, and he felt his breath catch when he felt a head lean against his shoulder.

She seemed as if she barely even thought about it, as her hands carefully moved the pencil on the paper to draw the basic anatomy he knew she used as a base. He, on the other hand, was now only able to hear his own breathing and rapid heartbeat. Trying his best to stay calm, he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before looking back at the sunset.

His brain was full of him cursing himself for not being able to keep his composure, but there was a small area that seemed to be growing. An area that was calm because of her. He looked back down at her and was only able to see the top of her head, but that was enough.

He knew full well what her light blue eyes looked like in the falling sun, and how they seemed to have more than just a glint of passion when she drew. He could easily imagine how her nose scrunched up when she made a mistake and needed to erase something, and he knew how soft her smile looked when she was proud of something or someone.

All of the things he thought about her were things he knew she couldn't appreciate about herself, and it pained him every time she avoided a mirror, or hid from a photo. He knew not to take any, out of respect for what she wanted, but he couldn't help but want some when he thought about her. One in the current environment, and maybe another when she's laughing, or talking, or-

Does she think the same? Does she ever think about what he says he enjoys the way he thinks about hers? Does she ever look at him and think about something she likes about him and compare it to something beautiful the way he does? The way he thinks of her when he looks at a calm sky or island waters? When he considers buying her art classes because he thinks she would enjoy it, but scolds himself because he would be implying that she needs it? Does she ever have the internal battle that he does every time he thinks of her? The way his heart aches and his mind fills with ideas, but he automatically tries to force it to the back of his mind because she can't possibly feel that way about him.

Sure, maybe some... more than some girls try to ask him out, or get close to him, but he knows that if he ever says anything that they dislike, his looks won't be enough to keep them with him. Only a few people knew about that and stayed, or kind of did.
Although, there was a part of him that hoped that maybe, just maybe she was different. She always talked about looking at the good aspects of things, so maybe she could do the same for him. Right?

But there comes a time where good outweighs the bad, and his bad wasn't just moodiness or some other stupid trope that they use in the romance books he's tried to read. It was his neglect that got someone killed, and he knew it would be hard to overlook something like that.

He could easily imagine her horrified face. The way her bright eyes would dim the way they only have a few times in his presence, and the way she would go silent for a while before the expected and experienced...
"How could you just let that happen?"

He felt his heart drop with just the thought, and pushed it to the back of his mind.

Noah shifted and laid her head on his lap, holding the paper up so she could see it. When he looked around, he noticed that the sun had almost completely set, and she seemed to be somewhat done with whatever she drew.

She laid the book open against her chest before looking up at him. He couldn't help but hope it wasn't an awkward view as she smiled warmly at him.

She was here, right? He could wait to tell her another time, when his world wouldn't immediately change from her warmth to loneliness again. When he wasn't running his hand through her hair and she wasn't falling asleep on him.

He knew he was selfish and manipulative for trying to hide something so big just so that he could enjoy the comfort she brought, but he had accepted that he was selfish a long time ago.