40. Are You Flirting With Me?

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"Okay, so the only things that I can find an interpretation for would be the blood on your hands and the rock climbing," I say.

I'm laying across Trevor's bed again, scanning through various websites. We'd been at this for awhile, but we weren't getting very far since we kept getting distracted. Trevor had stationed himself on the floor at the foot of his bed since he claimed his butt was numb from his desk chair.

"What do they symbolize?" he asks while turning around to face me, his laptop sitting lazily across his lap.

"Uh..." I scan through the article again. "Okay, the blood on your hands represents guilt," I say with a shrug since it's pretty obvious why he might feel guilty. "And, it says that rock climbing can represent determination."

"Hm." Trevor doesn't seem too impressed as he turns back to his own search. "Makes sense I guess. I was somewhat responsible for how James died, and maybe I'm determined to, I don't know, overcome that guilt?" He doesn't sound too sure.

"Ooh, wait," I say as my gaze lands on another possible meaning. "Says here that climbing something could also mean that you are trying to, or you have, overcome a great struggle." I look up at him where he's turned watching me. "So maybe you're not determined to overcome your guilt after all, maybe you already have."

"Works for me," he responds with a shrug and proceeds to jot down the notes on his notepad. "Okay, next. Let's just do both of mine first and then yours. We can just write up reports for our own dreams and then proofread each other's when we're finished. Sound good?"

"Yup."

"Okay, so I was in a dark room being chased, and then I was in a field surrounded by rocking horses, and one turned into a cougar." Trevor quickly gives me a recap on his dream.

"Right, so how about we find what a dark room would mean." I'm speaking while I type in the search and wait for the results.

Trevor grunts and I look up just as his head vanishes from view.

"You alright over there?" I ask.

He responds with a groan.

I army crawl towards the end of his bed and peek over the edge. Trevor is sprawled out on the floor with his computer lying next to him. He squints at me through one eye as I stare down at him.

"I'm just really tired," he answers with a moan.

"Why?"

"Some friends and I played cops and robbers last night, so I probably didn't get to bed until four this morning," he explains.

"Aw, poor baby." I pout with fake sympathy. "Do you need a wittle nap?" I ask playfully.

Trevor is glaring at me now and I'm wondering if I should be worried because he definitely has a gleam in his eyes.

"I would love a little nap, but you're on my bed," he tells me with a hint of amusement.

I fold my arms and rest my chin on them as I continue to watch him.

"Hey, I claimed this spot first," I defend.

Trevor turns so that he's facing me and then pushes himself into a relaxed sitting position with his arms propping himself up. My gaze jumps to the strength of his arms as they strain beneath his weight.

I blink a couple times to focus and notice that Trevor is watching me, and it's not the kind of watching where he's noticed that I've been staring and is waiting for me to snap back into it. No, the way he's watching me it's like he's in a trance of his own. His gaze is flickering between my features. He's looking at my hair, my quirked eyebrows, my curious gaze, my available lips, my bare shoulders, and then back up to my eyes.

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